Hot Shot

by Karina Halle

  Shane? Fuck! Of all people!

  “He wasn’t supposed to say anything,” I tell him. “And I’m going to kill him now. And you for fucking telling everyone like that.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” he says, his nostrils flaring, breathing hard. “I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “I was waiting for you to come home so I could tell you in person. This isn’t the kind of news to tell over text, phone or even Facetime! What, you wanted me to tell you that while you were out there fighting fires, do you know how dangerous and distracting that would be for you?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes holding flames inside them. “I texted you today. You should have told me right away. When were you planning on doing it? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

  Okay, so he’s got me there. But not without reason.

  “I was going to tell you as soon as you got back.”

  “So why didn’t you, Del?”

  “Because I saw you with her.”

  He flinches like he’s been slapped. “Who?”

  “Julie,” I tell him. “I was going by your house to feed Conan and I saw her drive out of your place. She saw me, too.”

  He closes his eyes, throws his head back and runs his hands over face. “Jesus.” He looks back at me and suddenly I’m aware of how tired and strung-out he looks, though, fuck, I definitely can’t blame him now. “I didn’t know she was stopping by. No one knew I was home. I got dropped off last night and passed out before I could even text you. I slept for almost the whole day. I woke up to someone knocking at the door and it was Julie. She had a bottle of whisky and wanted to come in.”

  I’m not sure if he’s trying to make me feel better or not but this is getting worse. “And you let her in.”

  “Of course I did. I was tired but she was there and she said that she had heard about Roy and the fires and I guess she was just sorry she dumped me, I don’t know.”

  “And so you let her in,” I repeat. “Your ex.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to turn her away.”

  I can’t believe this. I shake my head, trying to breathe. “Fox. You can turn her away. She dumped you. Right?”

  “I know but…”

  I raise my eyebrows expectantly. “But? Oh my god, how is there a but?”

  He shrugs, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Look, nothing happened.”

  And here’s where it gets tricky. I do believe him because I know him and I usually know when he’s lying about something and I’m not getting that from him now. But even if nothing happened, there’s the fact that he doesn’t really owe me anything because we aren’t exactly exclusive.

  He looks at me and continues. “We just talked. Or she just talked. I was still so exhausted, I wasn’t even sure where I was. I just drank with her for a glass and then she went home and that was that.” He takes a step toward me as if he’s going to reach out and grab my hand then doesn’t. “Del, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  I stare down at my shoes, pretending to study the scuffs on the tops of my boots. “You would have been allowed. We’re not exclusive. And you didn’t know I was pregnant.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I still wouldn’t have. Del,” his voice trails off and when I look up at him he’s staring at me with awe. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  “Are you…are you going to keep it?”

  I’m not sure how Fox is going to react to this. Now that he’s here I should include him in on all the decision making but at the same time, it’s my body and my choice.

  “I’m keeping it.” I don’t have to tell him my reasons why.

  He nods slowly, brows knitting together. “Okay. Okay.”

  Fuck. This is exactly what I thought. He would rather I didn’t.

  “I know it’s scary, Fox,” I say softly, reaching out and putting my hand on his bicep. “I know that this news is knocking you over right now and I get it. It’s doing the same to me. But I haven’t had to think much about whether I want to keep it or not. I just know I am. And…god, this is so weird to say because it’s our baby, it’s you and it’s me but no matter what you choose to do, I’ll be okay.”

  “What do you mean, what I choose to do?” he says sharply.

  I inhale deeply. “If you don’t want to be a part of the child’s life, then I get it. I do. I’m making this choice for me, not for the both of us and I’m not going to be that girl that gets pregnant and holds a man hostage. That’s not me. If you want to be involved, great. If not…I’ll be fine.”

  He’s speechless. His mouth is open a little, his eyes wide as they search mine. “Wow,” he whispers after a few beats.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  Oh god, what now?

  “What? What did I do?”

  “Do you honestly, seriously think that I wouldn’t want to be involved? Do you actually think that I would have nothing to do with this child, with my own fucking child?”

  “I’m just saying,” I say defensively and I know that I was wrong in thinking it. “You’ve been away for three weeks, I’ve had to deal with all of this alone.”

  “Not alone. You’ve had Shane.”

  “Oh for crying out loud! Is this what you’re pissed about? That I told Shane before you?”

  “Fucking right I am!” he yells. “Do you know how humiliating it is for me to find out from someone else other than you, from my own brother who I barely even talk to?”

  “Do you know how humiliating it is for me for you to storm on in here to my own bar and yell at me in front of everyone, on the busiest night possible, telling them all I’m pregnant with your child. You fucking yelled at me Fox, in public. You don’t have the right to do that!”

  It’s suddenly hitting me now. All the stress and the strain of the last three weeks, of having to keep this a secret, of feeling alone, so terribly alone, are all coming up, forcing their way out of me. I turn my back to Fox and blink back the tears, my eyes and nose growing hot.

  “I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t mean for that. I just…I’m angry Del.”

  “Well I’m angry too,” I say, my voice breathless, shaky. “I’m angry and lost and afraid and alone, so alone. You don’t know what it’s been like, to have to figure out my life all over again. This was never part of the plan.”

  “You never thought I was part of your plan?” he asks quietly.

  Before I can say anything to that—what, I don’t know—I feel his warm, strong hands on my arms. “Del, you’re not alone in this. Whatever you’ve been thinking while I’ve been gone, forget it. It doesn’t matter. Your thoughts and fears are yours to have but I’m here telling you that you’re not going to be alone. I will be with you every step of the way.”

  Don’t cry. Stay strong.

  “You mean the world to me,” he says, his voice beautifully sincere. “You are my world. You always have been. You’ll never stop being my friend.”

  Oh fuck.

  The pain is excruciating, the word friend is a quick knife into the heart and out, following the same path lined with scar tissue for the years of him saying it. But it hurts just as much as the first time, hurts because I should be overjoyed that he’s sticking with me and not going anywhere even if it’s as just a friend. That’s the best I can hope for and I have it.

  But god, I want his love. I want this baby, I want him to love the baby, and I want him to love me, too. Is that too much to ask for?

  “Come here,” he says quietly. He physically turns me around until I’m facing him and brings me into him, wrapping his arms around me.

  Any chance of holding it together like I have been doing is gone.

  I break down.

  Into pieces.

  His arms are the only things that are holding me together, preventing me from shattering into a million more fragments. Fragments of a girl I u
sed to know.

  So I cry.

  He holds me.

  Kisses the top of my head.

  Makes me feel like he’s going to turn back time.

  Makes me feel like he’s going to fast forward time.

  Bring us back to a place where we felt safe.

  Bring us forward to a place where we’re happy.

  He does this all for me and he doesn’t even know it.

  He doesn’t know how he makes me feel.

  But I can’t tell him. I can only cry and sob into him and let the strength in his arms, the sound of his heart beating in his chest, soothe me like nothing else.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, running his palm down the back of my head. “We’re going to be okay. We have a great support system…friends, family, a whole town who loves you, knows you. This baby is going to be very loved, that much I can promise.”

  What about me?

  But I’m a selfish cow for even letting that thought enter my head.

  I push it away, bury it somewhere deep. It can be dealt with at some other time. Right now, all that matters is that I have Fox’s support. I know he’s angry and he’s a mess and I’m a mess too but if we’re both in it together, both on the same page, we might be able to make this work.

  I wish this wasn’t so damn complicated.

  16

  Fox

  My world is on fire again.

  It’s a dream but it tells me that it’s real, whispers my name.

  Believe it, Fox.

  It wants me to believe all of it.

  I’m standing on the other side of a freshly dug fireline, the Pulaski axe beside me, across from a towering inferno.

  But this time it’s not a forest that is up in flames. It’s the whole town of North Ridge.

  All the buildings are burning, the high school, the grocery stores, the fire hall, the YMCA, the senior living apartment complexes, everything up in flames.

  Even The Bear Trap Pub.

  This is what I was trying to save.

  Trying to save and couldn’t.

  The flames keep growing, coming for me, and yet without even glancing at the hose on the ground beside me, I know it will run dry. There’s no stopping it, not this time.

  And that’s when I see it.

  I had been searching the flames for the sign of the woman that I often glimpse, the one I want to save.

  My mother.

  I don’t see her.

  Instead I see a little girl.

  She comes running out of the pub, the walls around her on fire, but she’s miraculously unscathed. Light brown hair, bright hazel eyes that shine brighter than any flames.

  It’s my daughter.

  “Come to me!” I try and yell at her but my voice is nothing more than a whisper. “Keep running!”

  But my daughter doesn’t hear me. I don’t even think she can see me.

  To her I don’t exist.

  But I do, I fucking do.

  And I can save her.

  I try and move across the fireline but there’s an invisible wall, an unseen hand holding me back. I scream and pound my fists into it, throw my body into it, but it doesn’t move. I try again and again, sweat pouring down my fast, so real I can taste it, the heat burning my hair, the acrid smell permeating every inch of my soul.

  I call for her. She has no name but I know her heart and I call for her.

  Parts of the pub are starting to burn off. A window explodes here, a beam falls there. The front door swings on one hinge.

  The sign above with the bear and his beer crackles in the fire, threatening to fall.

  “Please run baby, run.”

  But the words die on my lips.

  The building starts to implode.

  The little girl stands there, unaware of how close she is to death, and that’s when she sees me.

  “Daddy!” she screams, arms out, just as the walls collapse and a giant hand of fire wraps around her, pulling her back into the building until there’s nothing left but ash.

  I think I wake up screaming.

  I sit right up in bed and I’m soaked, my skin feeling it’s on fire, sweating profusely. I cough and cough, as if I inhaled ashes right into my lungs, then try to get my bearings.

  It’s dark out but my phone says it’s 7 a.m., which means morning is here and the darkness will be fading soon.

  I’m alone.

  Del should be lying here beside me. After last night at the bar, I wanted more than anything to bring her back here. She has that way of banishing the cobwebs, of giving me a heartbeat in the darkness.

  But things are strained between us. I didn’t want to push my luck, push her. And in some ways it’s probably for the best that I left the bar when I did and came home. I have a lot to think about, a lot to process. My nightmares are constant proof of that.

  I’m just starting to hate waking up in this big empty house.

  Except for a squeak coming from the cage where I see Conan staring at me.

  The fucking squirrel.

  It’s almost as if God was testing the two of us out when I picked up that baby from the ground. Thinking I could rescue it, save it, give it a better life.

  I guess I had but it was all thanks to Del. With my work, there’s no way I would have been able to take care of Conan. Del helped out, Del fed the little guy until he turns into a big, fat curious little thing with the fluffiest tail you can imagine. Del did it all.

  Which means my dream isn’t that far off.

  I’m going to be a rotten father.

  I’ll never be home.

  I’ll always be out working.

  Sure, half the year I will be here but there’s still the other half where Del will have to raise the baby by herself, then the kid. I know it’s no different than fathers who are in the military, who go off for long tours, if anything it’s a lot easier doing what I do.

  But still, even now as I’m trying to think about when Del could be due, that would be what, May or June? Fire season will be starting right then.

  I’ll miss everything.

  And more than that, Del will have to do it all alone. I know she has friends and family, I know she’ll get by just fine. But this is our baby and it’s hard to be in it together when I’ll be out of the picture.

  Something in my gut twists, a pain that comes from someplace deep.

  Fear. This is pure fear.

  Fear that I’m going to be a deadbeat dad and fuck up this kid’s life.

  Fear that the easy comradery and friendship I have with her is at stake.

  Fear that I’ll mess up the one good thing in my life.

  Because underneath all this fear, I know the truth. The truth that this baby may have been an accident, but it’s not unwanted. It may change everything but there’s a chance that if I can somehow ‘grow the fuck up’ as Shane so eloquently put it, get my life together, that this baby might be the answer to everything.

  Or, for once, I’ll be ruining more lives than just my own.

  The melancholy is after me this morning, hot on my tail. I need to get up out of bed and get moving, even though this is the first time in a long time that I don’t have any jobs to do. I should let myself rest or inquire at the ski lodge about returning for another year as a ski and snowboard instructor, something I do during the winter months to bring in extra income. But I know that if I rest too much, I’ll think too much and my brain will keep going around in circles.

  I say hello to Conan, who really wants to get out of his cage, and then head straight to the kitchen to make coffee and have a shot of Julie’s whisky and a pill. The sun is starting up over the mountains and the shadows start to fade.

  I notice a notebook on the counter that wasn’t there before and open it.

  There’s a pencil sketch of a squirrel on the first page.

  “Conan’s Owner Manual by Delilah Gordon,” I read the scribbled words out loud. And laugh.

  This woman has somehow turned this notebook
into a step-by-step instruction book on how to take care of him. It’s got little drawings for each one, which reminds me what a good artist I used to think she was back in high school when we were in art class together.

  There’s also a little diary every other page, telling me how he was when she fed him and by the end, she goes on about how she can let him out of the cage with no problems and sometimes she’ll walk around my place with him on her shoulder. Apparently he’s also graduated from applesauce and now tries to eat as many avocados as possible, along with shelled peas, blueberries (but he tends to eat the inner berry and leave the squishy skin, as she says) and of course, nuts of any kind.

  This little book was like a tonic to my soul. It’s not the whisky, not the pill. It’s Del and her sunshine heart. It’s that while I was out there, she was here trying to prepare for the life inside of her while at the same time, making sure some silly squirrel was taken care of. Because she’s looked after Conan with dedication and love and joy and I know this baby, our baby, is going to have the best mother in the world.

  I think I know what I have to do.

  I have to do the right thing.

  There’s only one person I need to talk to about that.

  I throw on black jeans, a thick grey sweater and jacket and go out to the Jeep, scraping frost off the windshield, the cold biting my skin. It’s early still and it’s almost November and the world is covered with sparkling white. The clouds are a dull grey and soon they’ll be bringing snow to our neck of the woods. Beyond that will be Christmas and the holidays and then a new year.

  I can’t predict how the year will go or what’s in store but I know there are some things I can control. I may not be a great man but I am a man of honor and loyalty and my word and though this is beyond frightening, I can be brave for this too. I can at least try.

  I get in the Jeep and head out to the ranch.

  Because it’s early I pull up to the house just as Shane and my father are standing on the porch, pulling on their shearling jackets.

  “Hey,” I say to them with a nod as I get out of the Jeep. “It’s cold as balls out.”

  Both my father and Shane don’t say anything. Shane looks a little wary of me and then everything from last night comes flooding back into my brain and I feel shame. Shame for the things I said to him, shame for the way I treated him, shame for stealing from my father.