Chapter 59
Tristan
(Nick, appropriately, is featured on the cover. I purchase a copy for myself, and vow to Vinnie and Charlie that I won’t enjoy their spreads too much. “Just send video evidence if you do!” Vinnie says, earning a middle finger from me.)
The station is decorated with streamers, banners, flowers, lights, and blow-up figurines from every possible faith and tradition we can think of. It’s a universalist’s dream and a fundamentalist’s nightmare, and I love it.
The holiday spirit is full and festive in the station—except for poor Vinnie, who ended things recently with John Michael and has been a bit mopey ever since.
We all try to treat him gently (though Mila does tell him at some point that if he doesn’t get off his ass and at least try to pretend to be festive, Santa won’t come down his chimney, and neither will anyone else).
The fundraiser is well-attended. We have holiday karaoke, hot chocolate, and an educational program about how to decorate your house for the holidays safely. No old lights! Don’t climb on your roof! Do not attempt to go down a chimney!
I’m thoroughly enjoying myself, serving hot chocolate to families as they come to the station, and talking with them about how to make sure they don't start a house fire with their turkeys for the holidays. Because I’m on the clock, I’m wearing my station uniform, but I have an elf hat perched on my hair.
“Thanks for coming!” I say to one family after they pay for their hot chocolate.
Nick comes up next to me and drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Having fun?”
“I am! You?”
He kisses the top of my head, just below the brim of the elf hat. “Oh yes.”
“Where’d Abbie go? I just saw her playing pin the tail on the reindeer with Charlie.”
“I think she convinced Captain Hyun to let her climb the ladder.”
“Oh boy.”
“Right?” He laughs ruefully. “Can’t let Raquel know about that. She’ll have a field day with that in the lawsuit.”
“God. Have they set a date yet? For the hearing?”
“First week of January.” He rolls his shoulders. “I just want it to be over.” He shakes his head. “She wanted to come here. Can you believe that?”
“Did she tell you that?”
“No, thankfully. She talked to her lawyer, who talked to mine, who talked to me. They all told her it was a bad idea to talk to me. Because the lawsuit is ongoing, the lawyers say that we shouldn’t really see each other. That’s fine by me.”
I often find myself wishing that there was something I could do to make things easier for Nick, but I know that there’s nothing I really can do.
Eventually, I might be able to help. He said that it’s not unlikely that the lawyers will have the other employees of Station 27 testify on Nick’s behalf. If that happens, I plan to speak as honestly and passionately as I can about his dedication as a father—and as a firefighter.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I have it set so that all notifications are silenced when I’m at work, except for Dad, Bobbie, and Yuritza.
I grab it from my pocket.
Yuritza is calling. Anxiety flashes through me.
Nick sees the screen. “Take it,” he says. “I’ll man the chocolate.”
I squeeze his hand in thanks and jog away from the table to a quiet corner of the fire station, holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Yuritza. Is everything okay?”
One of the things I’ve grown to love about Yuritza is her composure, that of a veteran nurse.
She could deliver absolutely devastating news with the poise and matter-of-factness of someone reporting the weather.
I had never quite mastered that back when I was a nurse—I was, and still am, too emotional to turn it off completely.
That’s why, when I hear the shakiness in her voice, I know that something is wrong.
“Tristan,” she says. “Sorry for calling you at work. I know you have the holiday fundraiser right now—”
“What’s wrong?” I hiss.
I hear her take a deep breath. “It’s your dad,” she says. “He’s missing.”