by Fiona Riley
“Where are we headed, Lieutenant?” she called toward Casey from the back of the cab, trying to project her voice over the roar of the engine.
“The Woodbourne neighborhood,” he called back without turning around.
“Woodbourne?” Sasha’s stomach dropped. That was her parents’ neighborhood. “Is this a fire or a medical call?”
He turned in his seat. “A little of column A and column B. We have reports of a person in distress with oxygen on the premises. Someone mentioned something about a spark. Also, maybe the smell of gas. So prepare for anything.” He directed that last part to everyone in the cab, but to Sasha, it meant something else entirely.
Sasha felt faint. She patted her pockets in search of her cell phone but found nothing. She must have left it on the table in the rec room. Shit.
“You okay, McCray?”
“Do we have an exact address?” She gripped the bench beneath her for stability. Her head felt foggy.
“We’re waiting on confirmation. There’s a possibility multiple homes are involved.” The radio crackled on the dash and he reached for it, redirecting his attention to the dispatch operator on the line. “Go ahead.”
From her location in the cab, she couldn’t quite make out what dispatch was saying over the engine roar. She leaned forward, nearly falling out of her seat when the truck took a tight turn. Burger’s hand was on her shoulder, pinning her against the seat.
“You good?”
Sasha didn’t answer. She strained to hear her lieutenant’s exchange with dispatch, but she’d missed it. She had to find out where they were going.
“Lieutenant?” Her last attempt to reach him fell on deaf ears. Within seconds, they pulled onto her parents’ street, and to her horror, her mother was in the front yard, waving the truck down.
This could not be happening. Not again.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Ma. You need to calm down. I can’t understand you.” She put her hands on her mother’s shoulders and tried to steady her. But it was pointless—her mother was a sobbing, blubbering mess.
“Sash. This can’t be happening, can it?”
She hadn’t seen her mother like this, ever. Not even when her father was hospitalized this last time, when things looked dire, did her mother appear this distraught. She felt helpless.
“Ma. Ma. Chill. Come here.” At a loss for what to do, she reverted to what had made her feel better as a child. She hugged her mother and tried to soothe up and down her back with her hands. “Slow down. Say it slow. Tell me what happened.”
Her mother hiccuped and gasped, her tears slowing enough for her to speak. “It’s a miracle, Sasha. A miracle.”
Sasha exhaled and nodded. Yes, this was a miracle. It was a freaking miracle that the fire call was for Mr. Dobrowski next door and not for her father. Her mother was the one who called 911 when she saw him fall off a ladder outside his house while trying to clean the gutters, portable oxygen tank and all. She’d been flagging down the truck for their neighbor and Sasha had never been so relieved.
“I mean, it’s physics and stupidity that resulted in Old Man Dobo hitting the deck, but if you want to call me being on shift a miracle, then that’s cool.” She shifted in her jacket. This gear was heavy when you didn’t have the adrenaline of the job pumping through you.
“That fool? No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Her mother shook her head, fresh tears in her eyes. “It’s all gone, Sasha. It’s all gone.”
“Are you feeling okay? Because the paramedics are right outside and I can have them check you out. You’re not making much sense.” Sasha had left the rest of her squad with her neighbor once she debriefed them on her knowledge of him. They had done a sweep of the property and neutralized any weak oxygen lines and seals. And there were many. Sasha was none too thrilled her neighbor was on oxygen and smoking cigars in the yard like a dumbass in such close proximity to her parents. Old Man Dobo was in deep shit, no matter how you looked at it.
“I’m fine.” Her mother slapped at her hand when Sasha tried to check to see if she had a fever. “Listen to me.”
“I’m listening to you ramble on like a madwoman.” Sasha ducked as her mother swatted at her again. “Okay, okay. I’m listening. What’s going on? Why are you crying?”
Her mother took a steadying breath and tried again. “Abby saved us.”
“Say what now? Abby? My Abby?” Sasha reached for her radio. Maybe her mother really should be looked at.
“The debt is gone, Sasha. It’s gone. All of it. And they are sending a check to pay us back retroactively for everything we’ve paid out. It’s going to save us, Sasha. We won’t lose the house now.” Her mother was sobbing again, but this time, Sasha recognized happy tears.
“What are you talking about?” That was a lot of information for Sasha to unpack. “What do you mean the debt is gone?”
Her mother sighed with frustration. She reached behind Sasha and pulled out a letter. “The debt is gone. All of the medical debt, all of your father’s bills and outstanding copays and equipment costs are gone. And this letter says they are going to help us find support to pay for his new caregivers. It’s a miracle.”
Sasha took the form but her hand was shaking. The only thing she could make out was Abby’s signature, over her name and title. Abigail Rossmore Davenport, Accountant, Davenport Charitable Foundation.
“McCray. We gotta go. You ready?” Burger stepped into the open door to her parents’ kitchen and thumbed toward the fire truck. “Oh. Hi, ma’am.”
“Hi, Aaron. How’s your mother?” Her mother wiped away tears as she took back the letter, holding it to her chest.
“Good. She’s starting a new knitting group on Wednesday. It’s called something like In a Stitch or some shi—stuff.” Burger blushed.
“Tell her I said hello. Oh, I baked some brownies. Take that plate with the tinfoil back to the station. Make sure you save some for the other guys.”
Burger’s blush deepened and he nodded, thanking her sheepishly.
Her mother turned back to her and added quietly, “Tell her thank you. No, better yet. Bring her by. I want to thank her myself.”
Sasha felt totally blindsided. She had no idea what to say or what even happened.
“McCray?” Burger was fidgeting behind her.
“I’ll call you later, Ma. I want to talk about this.” She stared at the back of the letter pressed to her mother’s chest, trying to make sense of what she had said.
“Fine, fine. Just don’t tell your father.” Her mother lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t want him to know we were struggling.”
Sasha nodded. “Okay, Ma.” She grabbed her helmet and headed for the door, following behind Burger.
The truck ride back was a blur. Sasha’s mind was spinning from everything her mother had said. How was any of this possible? What did it mean? This seemed too good to be true. She was eager to get to her phone to text her mother for details. And then…Abby. What would she say to her?
The radio crackled and her lieutenant called back into the cab, “We got another call. We’re closest, so we’re heading over now. Hydrate. This one’s got an active fire. It’s a biggie.”
Burger handed her a bottle of water from under the bench and she took it without acknowledgment. She looked out the window and mentally prepared for what was next. She’d need all her focus for an actual fire call. So far, tonight had taken a strange and unpredictable turn and suddenly she was dreading what else it might bring.
*****
Abby checked the clock as she paced inside the rec room of the fire station for what seemed like the millionth time. Luke had assured her they were on their way back, but that had been over an hour ago. She was getting worried. Correction, she had been worried for a while. Currently, she was worried and nauseous. Both of which seemed to be increasing the more time passed.
She’d grabbed ice cream with her mother and caught a movie but they had gone their separate ways w
hen her mother mentioned that Luke was coming over, and Abby had gagged because that was way too much information. Shortly after midnight, her mother called to ask if she’d heard from Sasha. Evidently there had been a bad fire downtown and multiple fire companies were on the scene. Luke had been called in to help manage the chaos after a few firefighters had gotten hurt, and Edie wanted to make sure Sasha was okay.
Since then, aside from a few texts from Luke and his assurance they were on their way back, there had been radio silence. Sasha wasn’t answering her texts and no one in the station could tell her anything.
So she paced and waited for them to get back. It seemed like eternity before the trucks pulled into the station. The sun had been up for hours and Abby was practically delirious. One by one they filed in, some limping, all of them covered in soot and ash with their faces obscured by smudges of dirt. Burger’s arm was in a sling and black grime framed his nostrils. He coughed when he tried to say hello to her.
Before she had a chance to ask him about Sasha, she walked in, her jacket singed along the right arm and her face weary. Abby ran up to her.
“Oh, thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you okay?” She cupped Sasha’s face and did a quick pat down of her body, pulling back when Sasha hissed in pain. “What’s wrong?”
Sasha cradled her right arm gingerly with her left. She shrugged off her jacket and exposed a freshly bandaged right forearm. Abby could see it was oozing through the dressing. Her heart broke.
“Oh, Sash.” She reached out to take Sasha’s hand, but Sasha stepped back.
“Abby. You can’t be here.” Sasha looked around the rec room and appeared to be embarrassed.
“You didn’t call me back. I was worried, Luke said—” Abby couldn’t figure out why Sasha was so annoyed. Abby had been an absolute wreck for going on nine hours now. She’d been worried sick over whether Sasha was okay or not.
“Can we not do this right now?” Sasha frowned, her forehead creased with fatigue.
“Do what? Why are you so mad at me?” Abby’s temper flared. Sasha was being rude for no reason.
Sasha grabbed Abby’s elbow and led her out of the rec room into the quiet hallway space beyond. “Abby, you can’t just show up at my work like a worried mother and make a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene.” She pulled her arm away from Sasha’s grasp and huffed. “You’re the one dragging me into hallways.”
“What did you plan to do, huh, Abby?” Sasha held her injured arm to her chest, her other hand on her hip as she spoke. “Did you plan to swoop in here and save the day, just like that?”
“What are you talking about? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I figured we could grab breakfast after your shift. What’s your problem?” Abby had no idea why Sasha was being so antagonistic.
“My problem? My problem is you people think you can just solve everything by throwing money at it.” Sasha’s anger was palpable. “First you come in here and humiliate me in front of my crew by babying me after I came back from doing my job. Then you’re annoyed that I’m not all sunshine and giggles about you interfering in my family’s affairs.”
Abby was starting to wonder if Sasha had oxygen deprivation. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And who are you people? What does that even mean?”
Sasha laughed in her face and Abby recoiled. “You don’t get it, do you? This is the job. It’s dangerous and scary and sometimes there are more important things happening in my day to day than texting you back at your every whim. You can’t show up here after every fire and mother me. I have a mother. She’s not you. I get plenty of flak from her about this. That position has been filled—you’re off the hook.” She scoffed. “But you probably don’t get that, huh? That I have to work for a living to pay for things. It must be such a foreign concept to you. You’re so used to writing checks and making everything all better—you don’t know any other way, do you?”
Abby felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. What was Sasha talking about? What money? Why was this even coming up? “Sasha, clearly you’re mad about something but I have no idea what.”
Sasha was exasperated, that much was obvious. The feeling was mutual. “When were you going to tell me that you waved your magic pen and all of a sudden all of my family’s medical debt was going to disappear? I thought we agreed on no secrets, Abby. That’s a pretty big fucking secret.”
“Sasha, I don’t know—”
“Save it.” Sasha threw her hand up in the air, cutting her off. “I saw your signature on the page, Abigail Rossmore Davenport, clear as day. I don’t need your charity, Abby. I can provide for my family plenty fine without your fucking handouts.”
Abby didn’t know what to say. She had no idea where any of this had come from. What handout? Sasha didn’t give her the chance to ask.
“Maybe it’s best if you leave. I have a shift to finish.” Sasha turned on her heel and stomped away, leaving Abby with all the questions in the world and no answers in sight.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Sasha’s jaw ached from clenching it. She had been lying in her childhood bed, tossing and turning for hours before she gave up entirely, unable to sleep. It was hopeless. All of it.
She sighed and rolled to her side. The smiling faces of her parents and a younger version of herself greeted her. She groaned. This was awful. Nothing about any of this was easy. Everything was always so damn complicated.
Her chest felt heavy. She fought the memories of better times in this bed, so many nights and mornings wrapped up in Abby. Whispered affections and intimacies shared over naked flesh and under cotton sheets. Being in this bed, in this room, with those memories, felt like prison.
She replayed the conversation she’d had with Abby yesterday at the fire house, over and over. She’d been harsh. Mean, even. But for what reason? Because Abby had humiliated her, that’s why. But she wasn’t upset about her being at the station. In fact, it made her feel very emotional and vulnerable to have someone there who cared for her so deeply they’d wait and pace and panic because she wasn’t back yet. She’d never had anyone worry that way, outside of her mother, and it was refreshing to be so loved and cared for. And yet, she’d told Abby it annoyed her. She told her it made her feel small and insignificant. Both were so far from the truth she couldn’t imagine why she’d breathed them at all.
But that wasn’t true either. As she looked back at her family’s photograph she acknowledged she was upset because Abby had done the one thing she had never been able to: financially free her parents. And she wasn’t quite sure what to do with those feelings. On the one hand, it was a freedom she doubted she would ever see. They weren’t exactly worry free or anything, but they were no longer digging out of debt. They had opportunities and support from the community that they hadn’t had before. She’d read and reread the letter, evaluating all the terms and conditions again and again. Before the end of the day yesterday, a social worker showed up from the hospital to help them navigate the home health care system and seek out extra financial support and equipment donations. They had gone from being all alone and piecemealing things, to having a case manager in place who did all the heavy lifting overnight. It was unreal. It was all because of Abby. And Sasha wasn’t sure how that made her feel.
Shameful wasn’t the right word. No. She felt inadequate. She did feel insignificant. She felt useless. For years Sasha had believed she could do her part by helping them make ends meet, even if it was to the detriment of her own life or credit score. She was there to serve. She wanted to be the hero to her father that he had been to her all her life. And now, there was no need to sacrifice. No need to break her back taking every catering job and every extra shift imaginable. Her parents wouldn’t need her in that capacity anymore. And she wasn’t sure what that meant for her identity.
Sasha swore that the sheets smelled like Abby. That her perfume lingered on her pillow, and every time she moved, more of it drifted into the air. It was all a
round her and it was killing her.
Her mother knocked at the door. “Pancakes are ready, Sasha. Come down.”
She groaned and pulled the Abby-scented pillow over her head, because why not? She might as well suffocate in designer perfume. That’d be an okay way to go, she decided.
After attending the pity party for one for a while longer, she managed to stumble into the kitchen. Her newly bandaged arm throbbing even with the pain medication. She was on injured leave for now, and it would likely be a week or two before she could go back to work. So basically she was just going to be hanging around her parents’ house, feeling sorry for herself until work was available to distract her. Fantastic.
Her mother had left a foil-covered plate on the table, and a tall stack of pancakes and some breakfast sausage waited for her.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it down. I was going to feed them to your father.” Her mother entered the kitchen and sat next to her at the table. “You look like hell, Sash.”
She felt like hell. “Thanks, Ma.” She cut into the pancakes and sausage, savoring each bite and pouring extra maple syrup on them as she went. “These are amazing.”
“Fresh blueberries from the market. Only the best for my little love.” Her mother tapped her on the nose before nodding toward her arm. “How is that today?”
“Better. Not really. It sucks.” Sasha shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it but let it heal, she supposed.
Her mother frowned and changed the topic. “Will Abby be coming by today? I’d like to bake her something.”
That stung more than the forearm burn. “No. She won’t be.”
“Tomorrow, maybe?” her mother pressed again.