Chapter 3 #2
He nodded once, and I didn’t miss the sparkle in his eyes. His expression eased into a hint of a smile. “Your father would be proud, son.”
I had to work to swallow around the emotion that suddenly surged up from my chest. My only response was a nod as a bittersweet trifecta swelled in me.
There was the warmth and satisfaction of following in my dad’s footsteps and continuing his legacy.
That was offset by the grief and pain of knowing he wouldn’t be here to witness it, eyes gleaming with pride, his big, beefy arms open for a fatherly hug.
And, not going to lie, I felt more than a little apprehension at the idea of taking on even more responsibility in my life.
“Yes, sir,” I finally managed, shoving down the emotions as much as I could.
“There’ll be the written exam, of course, and the physical assessment. Once you pass those, the interviews will be scheduled.” He told me the dates to clear for each of the steps, and I added them to the calendar on my phone.
I nodded, none of this news to me. I’d lived with it my whole life, first through my dad, then firsthand. The fire department and its traditions and regulations were old hat. Routine. As familiar as the back of my hand.
The carrier full of living, breathing baby was not. Living, breathing baby that was beginning to fidget and fuss instead of falling asleep as I’d hoped he would.
I fought to keep my focus on the chief, silently begging Oliver for ten more minutes. He gave me less than one before he scrunched his face up, grunted, and let loose with what sounded like the bowel movement to end all bowel movements.
“Ah, hell,” I said, unable to keep my professional face on when hit with the sounds and smells of my son.
Chief chuckled and shook his head as I groaned. “Again?” I asked Oliver. “I cleaned a poop fest literally minutes before I walked in here,” I informed my boss.
“Sounds about right,” Chief said, grinning. “Now you know where the saying ‘shit happens’ comes from.”
“Hammered home,” I muttered as I tried to figure out the right move here. My boy’s dirty diapers were anything but unobtrusive. Sitting here and continuing our meeting as if we didn’t need to call in hazmat was not an option.
“Go get that boy changed,” Chief said. “We’re done anyway. The news about Schwartz is going out on Monday. Keep it quiet till then.”
“Of course.” I stood and picked up my fragrant son in his carrier. “On a different topic, we need a changing table in the men’s restroom.”
“That’s not the first time it’s been brought up. I’ll see about prioritizing it.”
Shifting the carrier to my left hand, I extended my right to Chief. “Thanks for the heads-up on everything.”
“I suspected you could use as much notice as possible now.” He nodded toward Oliver.
“You suspected right,” I said, managing a grin. “I’ll get him outta here before you have to evacuate your office due to the odor.”
His only response was a laugh. “You’re gonna do just fine, son. When’s your next on-call shift?”
“Monday.”
“Are you able to cover that? You have a plan for him?” Chief asked.
“Working on it.”
Our department assigned volunteers to be on call for twenty-four hours at a time. I usually had two shifts a week. Sometimes there were no calls during a shift. Sometimes there were multiple. You never knew. You just had to be ready.
Officers—lieutenants, captains, and the chief—were paid positions with regular shifts.
At least one officer was scheduled at all times, usually twenty-four on, forty-eight off.
If I got the lieutenant position, my life would have to change yet again.
I hadn’t even wrapped my head around the changes fatherhood would demand, never mind a promotion.
But one thing at a time, and right now, a toxic shitty diaper was the priority.
“Good luck,” Chief Thomas said as I walked out of his office. “Hope you get some sleep.”
“Me too,” I called over my shoulder.
The halls were still quiet, though I could hear commotion in the garage. Instead of the men’s room, I ducked into the ladies’, searched out the changing table, and got busy with decontamination and cleanup.
“Dude, your little rear is a disaster,” I said as Oliver’s discontent gradually increased, even as I cleaned him. “Let me guess. Lunchtime?”
I could use some lunch myself, but I was already learning that would have to wait until my son got his belly filled.
I was used to being at the beck and call of the fire department whenever I was on call.
Even though it was unpredictable, I knew what to expect.
Knew it was only for twenty-four hours at a time.
Though there was always uncertainty as we headed out on a call, we usually had some basic information, like what kind of medical emergency or where smoke was coming from or how involved a fire was.
Parenting? I was learning it was a full-time, on-call shift that required me to drop everything and tend to my baby’s needs, and most of the time, all I could do was guess as to what those needs were.
As a courtesy, I packed up that vile dirty diaper, planning to dispose of it in the trash receptacle outside the building. I got Oliver’s outfit back on, secured him in his carrier once more, and headed out of the station just as he switched into full-on crying.
“We’re on our way, Oliver. Can you hold on for five minutes?”
His answer was an angry cry that pierced the neighborhood.
I needed to get better at this. If I’d had a bottle ready when he first started fidgeting back in Chief’s office, we could’ve avoided this escalation.
It couldn’t be good for him to scream his lungs out every time he was hungry.
It sure as hell wasn’t good for my nerves.
As my stress level ratcheted up six or seven more levels, I secured him in the back of the SUV. The penguin toy he’d taken so willingly twenty minutes ago was now meaningless to him. Nothing was going to make him happy until his tummy was full.
As hungry as I was, I wished a big meal would be enough to solve my problems too.
As I tried to tune out the cries from the back seat, everything started to sink in.
Daycare. A night nanny. The brewery, which I’d neglected for a week.
An online class. Job application. Résumé update.
Studying for the written exam. Keeping up on my workouts.
Learning how to care for my son. Trying to balance two jobs and a demanding baby. Functioning on very little sleep.
I didn’t have the first clue how the hell I was going to do it all. I couldn’t even think straight due to almost no sleep last night, but it seemed as though this might be my new normal.
I’d functioned without sleep regularly in my adult life. Whenever there was a big fire or some other demanding emergency, sleep wasn’t an option, but adrenaline got a guy through, kept the brain sharp.
With a baby, ongoing sleep deprivation seemed to be a real thing but without the adrenaline.
“Shit,” I bit out quietly, not that my son could hear a thing over his cries.
All I could do was feed this kid, figure out one step at a time, and hope like hell I’d get better at being a dad and juggling all my roles.