Chapter Nine

Tim Fresco pulled into the parking lot at Fire Station Number Two, ready to begin his first day of work as a full-time permanent member of the Arlington Fire Department. His time as a medic in the Army had set him on a path that led him directly to a new career as an EMT in the civilian sector.

Civilian. Still not sure how I feel about that, to be honest. I thought I would be in until retirement.

He took a deep breath before grabbing his duffel bag and heading into the building.

“You must be my new partner,” a baritone sounded from his left as he stepped through the main entry.

“Yep. I’m Tim Fresco,” he said, extending his hand to the tall stranger.

“Jordan,” came the reply. “Jordan Baker. Nice to meet you, man. Follow me, I’ll show you around.”

“How long have you been here?” Tim asked as they moved down the hallway to the lockers.

“Four years,” Jordan responded. “Pretty great group here, too. Everybody gets along.”

“Good to know,” Tim observed. “Especially being the FNG.”

“FNG?”

“Freaking New Guy.”

Jordan laughed.

“Expect a bit of hazing but nothing over the top.”

He stopped and pointed.

“These two lockers here are unoccupied. Pick which one you want and get your gear stowed. Then we’ll go see the captain, and after that we’ll take the grand tour.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at his office?”

“You got it, Tim,” Jordan said, and strolled away.

Forty minutes later Jordan had introduced him to all the guys onsite, and he and Tim were doing a spot check of inventory on the rig before their shift started.

“Hey, new guy!” Dan called out as he passed. “You’re on kitchen duty this week. What’s for supper?”

Without missing a beat Tim responded, “Pizza, and it should be here in five…four…three…two…,” as he looked at his watch, then at the door.

Sure enough, a teenager wearing the local pizza chain’s uniform wandered into the bay with ten boxes and announced, “Order for Tim?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Tim said, and took the boxes to the station’s kitchen before returning to sign the slip and tip the young man. “Thanks.”

“You’re all right, Fresco,” Dan murmured in approval as he moved past to go grab himself a slice. “You’re all right.”

Tim grinned.

***

Sarah arrived at Karli’s on Thanksgiving Day with a bottle of wine.

“Here,” she said, holding it out. “I thought this would go well with our lunch.”

“Absolutely!” Karli exclaimed. “Speaking of which, it is just about ready. Come on in.”

“So, how’s your week been, girl?” Sarah asked as she followed her into the kitchen.

“Not bad,” Karli answered. “Got some surprisingly good feedback from my readers about my latest blog. For the most part, it was positive. What about yours?”

“Well, I may have to start making regular trips up to Denver at some point,” Sarah revealed. “There’s an anomaly in the monthly reporting they want me to physically ferret out. I was hoping I would be able to research it remotely. You know how much I hate to fly.”

“I do know,” Karli confirmed, her nose crinkling at her friend’s predicament. “But keep the faith, Sarah. One day your writing will take off, and you’ll be able to walk away from inventory accounting and be a full-time author like you’ve always dreamed.”

Sarah sighed.

“From your lips to God’s ears,” she muttered as she poured wine into two glasses. “Here’s to eventually seeing dreams realized.”

The women stood silently for a moment after the toast, each lost in her own thoughts. Sarah’s tall, slender frame, darker hair and brown eyes provided an interesting contrast to Karli’s shorter, curvier build and blond-and-blue combination.

But that was the only difference between them, and since they’d met, they’d become as close as sisters.

“I mean it,” Karli said quietly after a long pause. “You’re a brilliant writer, Sarah. Your time is coming, I can feel it.”

“Yours is, too,” Sarah replied. “I know you want to do more than blog about fashion. So, step out on faith and try something new. Why are you holding back?”

Karli shrugged.

“I’m not sure what else to write about yet,” she admitted, biting her lower lip. “And I also don’t want to alienate the few loyal readers I do have.”

“You’re so funny,” Sarah teased with affection. “Five hundred and seventy followers? That’s way more than ‘a few’. But I get where you’re coming from.”

The oven timer went off, and Karli grinned.

“Lunch is ready! Let me get it out,” Karli said as she pulled on her oven mitts and opened the door.

***

“So, what happened to your previous partner?” Tim asked as they settled in for their sixth overnight shift together.

“Moved away. His wife works in finance, and she took a promotion with her company that meant moving to Seattle,” Jordan explained. “He had family up there anyway, so, I think it worked out for them all around.”

“And what’s your story? You from around here?”

“I grew up in Decatur, about forty minutes northwest of here,” Jordan said. “Came to Arlington to go to college. I had every intention of becoming a doctor, but I couldn’t afford all the schooling. So, I got a Bachelors in Paramedic Studies, then sat for the certification exam, and landed here instead.”

“Married?”

“Nope,” Jordan said with a strange look on his face. “Not dating anyone, either. I focus on work. What about you?”

“I was engaged once,” Tim answered, managing to keep a light tone. “But it fell through.”

“Sorry to hear that, man. So, where are you from?”

“Adrian, Texas. And yes, it’s as small as it sounds. I graduated and went straight into the service. I had planned on staying in until they retired me, but a bullet shattered my lower leg and that was it for me, man. I was a medic in the Army, though, so after I got my EMT certification I went ahead and did the Advanced EMS program, too.”

“John Duncan’s group?”

“Yep.”

“Nice! That’s who I went with to take the exam. And here you are,” Jordan said with a flourish.

“Yep, here I am,” Tim agreed with a chuckle. “Not exactly what I’d planned, but I like it so far.”

The crackle of the radio coming to life stopped the chit chat.

“We’re up,” Jordan said solemnly. “Let’s get going.”

***

“Really? It’s not enough we didn’t get to spend time together for Thanksgiving?” Karli lamented to her husband Evan on their call.

“Sorry, babe,” he told her. “You know they’ve expanded my territory. I can’t not go.”

“I know,” she said, eyes closed in frustration. “Any chance at all you and I will at least see each other on Christmas Day?”

A long pause, then, “I’m just not sure.”

When she got off the phone she paced back and forth across the living room, finally giving in to the urge to vent to Sarah.

“Hey,” she said when her best friend answered. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I’m thinking ice cream and girl talk, if you’re free tonight.”

“I don’t know, let me check my schedule,” Sarah said mischievously, then paused on purpose for several seconds before saying, “yep, the Chippendale dancers canceled on me tonight so yeah, I’m free.”

“Smartass.”

Sarah laughed.

“You know you love me.”

“You’re right, I do. I’ll be there shortly.”

Per their custom they settled in with ice cream, and Sarah added chocolate syrup to hers as she listened to Karli rant about Evan’s work.

“It’s ridiculous,” Karli said between bites. “It’s gone from once a month or so on the road to now I’m lucky if I even see him once a month.”

“Well, what can you do?” Sarah asked. “If his company’s making him travel that much, what can you do about it really, except look into going with him?”

“I’ve tried,” Karli sighed. “I’ve mentioned it several times. He keeps telling me it’s not allowed.”

Something sounds fishy here, Sarah thought to herself. I think Evan’s feeding her a line of crap. Unfortunately, I can’t tell her that. It will just upset her more, and I have zero hard evidence to prove anything, just a gut feeling.

“Bummer,” Sarah commiserated. “And it also doesn’t make much sense, especially if you two covered your plane ticket out of pocket.”

“I know, right?” Karli chimed in. “It’s not like I would expect his company to cover my travel costs.”

She paused for a moment, then said, “I think this might call for chocolate syrup.”

Sarah pushed the bottle toward her. “Help yourself.”

***

Unbeknownst to Sarah, the man she still loved was pulling into his apartment complex on the other side of the city, exhausted after a hectic shift.

Thank God I decided to relocate closer to work, he realized. I can’t imagine driving more than ten minutes after the night we just had.

He parked his truck and wearily climbed the stairs to his apartment door. Once inside, Tim kicked off his shoes, then wandered down the hall to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in front of his refrigerator in his sweatpants, trying to decide whether he had enough energy left to cook himself something to eat. A random thought popped unbidden into his tired mind and set every nerve ending alight.

One of Sarah’s omelets would be perfect right now.

“Damn. I haven’t thought about that in forever,” he muttered with a scowl, running his hands over his face and then through his still damp hair.

But the thought, once loose, could not be bottled up again, and Tim found himself rummaging through his fridge and pantry for the ingredients needed for an omelet. As he did, his mind replayed one of many favorite moments he had shared with the woman of his dreams.

What are you doing? he’d asked her on a rainy Saturday morning at her parents’ house. You know I’m not a big fan of eggs.

Just trust me, Sarah had giggled. You will like this, I promise.

Tim had watched, transfixed, as Sarah had diced green onions and ham, sautéing them together in a tiny pan while the egg mixture cooked in another. She had deftly flipped the egg mixture and cooked the other side, sprinkling a bit of steak seasoning over it as she went. At last, Sarah added the onions, ham, and a handful of shredded cheese before she folded up the omelet.

Now we give it just a minute, let the cheese melt, she’d said, covering the pan with a lid.

Three minutes later, he’d scooped up a forkful of heaven, and grinned at her once he’d chewed and swallowed.

This is outstanding, he’d told her. You’re gonna spoil me rotten, you know that, right?

She had beamed with pride.

That’s the plan, she’d said, and kissed him.

“God, I miss her,” Tim found himself saying with a sigh as he cracked the eggs into a bowl.