Chapter 3
Keanna
Harper shrieks. “Daddy’s not coming home?!”
She turns to me, eyes wide and quickly filling with tears. We’ve just watched the same thing on live television. I’m not crying like my kid is, but I am a little panicky. Is he really back for good?
Jett didn’t say that, Marcus did. Maybe he’s just being dumb. Or maybe my husband plans on returning to the life of fame and travel and they’ve already talked about it but he hasn’t told me.
“Nothing to worry about,” my friend Maya says, touching a soft hand to Harper’s cheek. “That’s just a joke.”
I’m so glad we came to her house to watch this race, otherwise I’d be all alone and freaking out right now.
She looks up at me and we share a silent, concerned look. I know we’re both thinking the same thing, but now isn’t the time to talk about it. We have a four year old to calm down.
“Yep, just a joke!” I say in my happy upbeat mom voice. “Things on TV aren’t always real, remember?”
I feel terrible if I’m accidentally lying to my daughter, but this information is something her dad should tell her—if it’s true.
Jett’s best friend D’andre returns from his kitchen with a tray refilled with snacks, three more sodas and one juice box.
He sits on the couch and cracks open the soda can. “Did I miss anything good?”
“Nope,” Maya and I say at the same time. The TV has gone to a commercial break now, and Harper is thrilled to discover that D’andre found more cinnamon Teddy Grahams in his pantry, so her tears have stopped. For now.
“That was awesome seeing my bro race again,” D’andre says, kicking back on the couch and throwing an arm around his wife. “Reminds me of the old days.”
“He still races now,” I say, referring to the fun hometown races we host at The Track for amateur racers. It’s not professional, and it’s in front of a small set of bleachers, not a massive indoor stadium, but it’s still a race.
“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he says. “Jett looks good out there.”
“Well, it’s getting late so we should head home.
” I stand up, stretching out my limbs and wishing I should shake off the stress of tonight.
Until I get to talk to Jett, I have no idea if it’s true that he wants to go back to racing full time.
And as long as I don’t know anything, I can keep telling myself it’s not true.
“Want some Teddy Grahams to go?” D’andre asks Harper. She nods, grinning like a kid who’s already had way too much sugar tonight. I don’t object though.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Husband: Hey babe are you still awake?
I roll my eyes. California is two hours behind us, but it’s only ten p.m. here in Texas. I type back: yep, about to leave Maya’s. Great job, btw
Husband: Thanks <3 Call me when you get home!
I thumbs up the message and then shove the phone back in my pocket.
It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true I tell myself.
We say our goodbyes and get in the car, and the knot of anxiety in my chest only gets worse now that we’re driving alone on the road without the comfort of our friends while my husband is two thousand miles away having a fantastic night celebrating his second place podium finish.
I sigh and rest my head against the back of my car seat as we drive home.
“Mommy, when are we getting my best friend?”
“Huh?” I say, turning down the radio. She’s four. She doesn’t have a best friend.
“My doggy best friend! When are we getting him?”
“Oh,” I say.
As soon as Harper heard the phrase that dogs are “man’s best friend" she asked if they are also a little girl’s best friend. Jett said dogs are friends to everyone, unlike cats who are very particular about who they like.
“Next week,” I say with a smile. I am so excited to adopt a retired working dog from a facility we found a few months ago. Our family has been needing something extra, and I’m not quite ready for another kid yet. A dog will be perfect.
“I can’t wait!” Harper says, pumping her tiny fists into the air.
“It’ll be so fun.” I smile at her from the rear-view mirror. I don’t know who’s more excited about getting a dog. The whole family is excited for it. We’ve already picked out a bed, food bowls, and multiple collars because we couldn't decide on just one.
Maybe if my husband decides to go back to professional racing full time, the dog will also help take my mind off how lonely I am while Jett’s traveling around the country. Ugh. Stop thinking like that, I remind myself.
We get back in town, and I pull into our neighborhood.
My random thoughts suddenly turn to confusion.
It’s late at night and the sky is black, punctuated by the occasional dim streetlight.
Except right now, in the center of the sky, a thick orange burst of moving light billows high into the sky.
I don’t even understand what I’m seeing at first. It’s so surreal, and so bright, flickering in the dark sky.
My body is on autopilot, driving me through the streets of our subdivision, turning onto the street where we live, all by muscle memory.
As we approach our house, the beautiful custom home Jett and I bought to start our marriage together, I see the source of the bright orange sky.
And it still doesn’t register at first. My thoughts are scared, panicked, and all over the place.
My eyes are wide, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers hurt.
“Fire!” Harper says, unclicking her seatbelt and leaping into the passenger seat beside me. “Fire, Mommy!”
I swallow, stopping the car right in the middle of the street.
My house, the beautiful home we’ve built together and paid for with hard work, has a chasm ripped in the middle of it.
Flames fly out of it, dancing around the roof and the walls like some kind of angry dragon.
Sparks spray around it, drifting high up into the air, so much higher than I ever thought a fire could be.
The flames rage and roar, slowly consuming my house, shattering the windows and turning the crisp white trim ashy black before consuming it completely.
People filter out of their homes, everyone gawking in awe and horror as they stare at my home like it’s entertainment and not a tragedy in the making. Some have their phones out, recording the spectacle like it’s just something fun to get social media likes.
Somehow I’m now standing outside, next to my car, Harper’s hand gripped tightly in mine.
I don’t remember turning my car off, but the engine is stopped.
My neighbor rushes up to me. She’s wearing purple pajamas that say Fifty and Flirty all over them.
Her hair is in a silk bonnet and she’s not even wearing shoes.
“Keanna! You’re okay! Thank God you’re okay!” She squeezes me in a hug and then kneels down and hugs Harper. “Oh my sweet baby Harper, I’m so glad you’re okay! My little angel! You poor thing! I was scared to death!”
I normally know her name, but I can’t think of it right now. Maybe I’m in shock. She stands up, turning to look as a thick orange burst of moving light billows high into the sky. My neighbor wipes tears from her eyes. “Where’s Jett?”
“In California,” my voice says. It doesn’t feel like I’m talking. I can’t take my eyes off my house. Even from where we stand across the street, the fire is so hot I’m instantly drenched in sweat.
A guy who lives down the street runs up to me. He’s an off-duty sheriff's deputy. His name is Toby or Tony or something. My brain isn’t remembering things very well right now.
“Is anyone else inside the house?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Any pets?”
I shake my head again. No pets. Not yet, at least.
“The fire department is on their way.” He squeezes my arm in a way that feels weirdly comforting. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
All I can do is stare. The fire burns so fast, so hot.
I’ve never seen anything like it. This is a billion times stronger than the biggest bonfire I saw that time on the beach.
That was a fun fire. We roasted marshmallows and sang loudly and poorly to songs on the radio.
This is not a fun fire. This is a nightmare.
Everyone is outside now. Dozens of neighbors, some I know, and most I don’t.
A weird part of me is squirming in shame and embarrassment.
I’m not even sure why. It’s super awkward knowing that all these people are watching me as I watch my home burn to the ground.
I wish everyone would just go back inside and leave us alone.
I really wish they’d stop taking pictures.
This is my house. My home. Not some circus sideshow.
The roaring sirens of three firetrucks can be heard from miles away. It grows louder and louder until the trucks screech to a stop in front of our house. Firemen are already suited up as they leap out of the firetrucks and get to work, hooking up hoses to the fire hydrants.
It’s all so loud. The sirens, the gasped shrieks of my neighbors.
The house groans and creaks, putting up a fight but losing against the powerful flames.
The fire crackles so much louder than I thought a fire was capable of.
Even the water that’s here to save us is loud.
The fire hydrant water whooshes out, finally, hitting the flames but doing nothing.
Maybe it takes a lot longer to put out a fire than I thought.
I don’t know what I thought. I’ve never seen anything like this before.
I blink. Tears roll down my face. I know I should be grateful for our lives, that we’re all safe and unharmed, but all I can think of right now is how all our stuff is gone.
Clothes, food, memories. The couch we cuddle on, the brand new bath towels I haven’t even taken out of the shopping bag yet. It’s all burning up to ashes right now.
“Mommy?” Harper says my name several times before my brain snaps to attention and alerts me.
“Yeah, baby?” I bend down and scoop her into my arms.
“I want Daddy.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Her face presses against me and her arms wrap around my neck. I wish Jett was here. Right now, next to me. I wish it was him instead of my neighbors.
How am I supposed to tell him that our life just went up in flames?
He’s in the beautiful state of California, partying with his friends, probably wanting to go back to full time racing.
He’s having an amazing time. Am I supposed to just call him and break this devastating news over the phone?
Do I wait until he flies back in two days?
No, surely someone would have told him by then.
Hell, there’s probably pictures of my house up on Facebook right now thanks to all my nosy camera-obsessed neighbors. No, he needs to hear this from me.
I reach for my phone. He answers on the first ring.
“Hey, beautiful. What’s up?”
“Jett…you might want to sit down for this.”