by Claire Adams
“I wanted to know what it meant that the residents of Boston saw the Irish as totally separate from them,” I said, repeating the question.
“I dunno,” she shrugged. I let it go and moved on asking questions until the class was almost over. I passed back the essays, saving Nina’s for last.
There were the requisite groans and muttered curses, but no one complained too loudly. I held Nina’s paper in my hand as the rest of the class filed out after the bell.
“Nina, can I see you for a moment?” I said. She walked up to my desk with a stubborn expression on her face. I knew that there had to be a little bit of worry mixed with the defiance, so I said, “Here’s your essay. You did very well in the introduction, but you didn’t back your argument up with evidence this time.”
“Okay,” she shrugged, as she took the paper from me and stuffed it into her backpack.
“Nina, you’re a smart girl. I’m concerned about the fact that you’re barely skating by in this class,” I said, as I studied her face. “I’m concerned that you’re going to get too far behind to catch up and that you’ll miss out on scholarships for college if you don’t bring your grade up.”
“Uh huh,” she said, looking past me out into the hallway.
“I’m going to have to schedule a conference with your parents so we can talk about how to motivate you to get your grades up,” I said, trying spark some kind of response.
“Okay,” she shrugged. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s all,” I said, shaking my head. Nina walked out of the room without so much as a backward glance. I watched her leave and then sighed as I pulled up my email and began composing a message to Nina’s parents, inviting them to meet with me.
Chapter Five
Blake
By the time I got to the firehouse, Tony was already standing by the rig waiting for me to help him do the morning run-through on the equipment. I quickly stored my gear in my locker, refilled my coffee mug, and then headed back out to the garage to complete our morning task.
“Late night?” Tony grinned, as he handed me the clipboard and began pulling open the doors at the back of the rig.
“Meh,” I shrugged, as I checked off the equipment as Tony pulled it out and then put it back properly. Both of us hated this task, but we’d been on more than one call where someone had skipped out on their duty, and the last time it had happened, it almost cost two firefighters their lives. As a result, Chief had cracked down on the whole squad.
“The swingers again?” Tony asked, eager for the sordid details.
“Nah, just me, Nina, a pizza, and the Saw trilogy,” I said, shaking my head. “The pizza gave me heartburn.”
“God, you’re getting old,” Tony sighed, as he slammed the doors that enclosed the oxygen tanks and moved around to the side of the rig. “If I ever get to be as old as you are, shoot me, will ya?”
“Fuck off; you’re a year younger than me,” I said dryly. “And you’re still married. That counts for double in my book.”
“No joke,” he said sadly. “I’m never getting laid again, B.”
“Have you tried doing things her way for a change?” I asked. I knew that Tony’s problems with his wife were largely self-made, but since he’d shepherded me through my divorce from Remy, I wasn’t about to throw stones.
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“Because maybe she’d be impressed that you’re trying and would then decide to reward you, you big dumbass,” I said, as he pulled out the hoses, called out the status of each and then stored them back in the compartment.
“Yeah, well, that would mean I have to admit that she’s right,” he grinned. “No way in hell I’m gonna do that.”
“Sometimes I wonder how you got that woman to agree to marry you,” I muttered. Tony’s wife, Anita, was an OB/GYN who ran the clinic in town. She was smart, beautiful, and even more stubborn than her husband. I often joked that their marriage was nothing more than a war of attrition.
“Shotgun, my friend; I relied on my father-in-law’s shotgun to seal the deal,” he grinned. The truth was that Tony and Anita had been childhood sweethearts, and although they’d married young, they’d managed to forge a strong marriage despite some devastating losses. I knew that when Tony complained about a lack of sex, it was usually because Anita had been busy delivering babies.
“You’re a Neanderthal, you know that, right?” I laughed, as we finished up the engine check and moved to the squad car.
“How’s Nina doing?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“She’s fine, a teenage pain in the ass, but overall, good,” I said, without looking up.
“Uh oh, what’s wrong?” Tony asked.
“Eh, the usual. She hates her mother and she’s let her grades slip,” I said, trying not to let on just how concerned I was.
“Ease up, B; she’s a teenager,” he said, as the alarm went off and a voice came over the intercom announcing a call. “It’s what they do.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I nodded, as we grabbed our gear and got ready to take our places on the truck.
It was a quick drive to the scene, where we found a woman who had misjudged a curve out on the edge of town and run off the road into a tree. Tony and I grabbed the Jaws of Life as the EMT took her blood pressure and tried to determine if she had any major injuries. Once she was cleared, we cut through the door of the car and put her on a backboard.
“They ought to put a sign out here,” Tony muttered, as we wiped down the gear and stored it back in the truck. “That’s the third accident this month. And in that exact same spot.”
“Write a letter to the mayor,” I suggested. “I’m sure he’ll give it all due consideration before filing it.”
“In the trash can, maybe,” Tony muttered, as we climbed back up into the engine and headed back to the station. “I’m serious, Blake. This is a dangerous curve. Someone’s gonna get killed out here one of these days.”
My phone went off as we were storing our gear. I pulled it out and frowned as I saw an email from Ms. Fowler, Nina’s History teacher. I opened it and quickly read it.
“Dammit,” I swore, as I shut the phone off.
“What’s the matter?” Tony asked.
“Nina’s teacher wants to have a conference tomorrow about Nina’s History grade,” I said.
“So, go and hear what she has to say,” Tony shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”
“Not only am I going to have to hear about how Nina is failing to live up to her potential,” I said, “but I’m going to have to deal with Remy blaming me for it.”
“Oooh, ouch,” Tony winced. “Kinda sucks.”
My phone began ringing, and when I looked at the screen, I let out a string of swear words that drove Tony into the lounge in search of food.
“Hello, Remy,” I said flatly.
“I assume you got the email from Ms. Fowler,” Remy said in a clipped voice.
“I did,” I replied.
“Well, I simply cannot drop everything and be at the school tomorrow, Blake,” she huffed. “My schedule is tight, and I’ve got a meeting with the development committee at 2. I can’t exactly tell them that I need to postpone their multimillion-dollar contract negotiations because my daughter’s teacher says we need to discuss her History homework.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of asking you to inconvenience your precious strip mall developers,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t be an asshole, Blake,” she warned. “You’ve got a flexible schedule tomorrow, so you can go without me.”
“Why do you always assume that my schedule is so flexible?” I shot back. “How do you know I’m not working?”
“Because you work one day on and three days off,” she said. That was one of the complaints she lodged in the divorce filing. Despite the fact that it was incredibly flexible, my work schedule was the primary focus of our married life, and it always had to be accommodated first. “You’ve worked the exact same schedu
le for the past 20 years.”
“Are you saying I’m predictable and boring?” I asked angrily.
“No, I’d call it boringly consistent,” she replied. “Are you going to go or not?”
“You know I will,” I grumbled. She had me up against a wall because she knew that I’d do whatever I needed to do to ensure that Nina was happy, healthy, and well-educated. She did not seem as dedicated to the task as I was, and that had always irked me even though I loved spending my free time with my daughter.
“Thank you,” she said, without sounding terribly grateful.
“Yeah, whatever,” I grunted, before hanging up. It wasn’t that I missed being married to Remy; I didn’t. It was that I resented the way she treated me as if I were another one of her office staff. As if my sole purpose in life was to raise our daughter so that she could later take the credit for what a great job we’d done. I knew she loved Nina, but it was at times like these that I wished I’d been widowed rather than divorced.
Chapter Six
Emily
Late Tuesday afternoon, I was cleaning off the board after a particularly productive class discussion when I heard a knock at my classroom door.
“Excuse me, Ms. Fowler?” a deep voice said from the doorway. I turned around to find a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark brown eyes standing in the entrance to my classroom. He smiled as he stood uncomfortably, waiting to be invited into my room adding, “I’m Blake Gaston, Nina’s dad. I’m here for a conference about her History grade?”
Unable to speak, I simply nodded as I stood frozen in place. It had been a long time since I’d felt the zing of attraction, and it took a moment for me to shake off the surprise and remind myself that, handsome or not, he was here to discuss his daughter’s academic progress — or lack thereof.
“Mr. Gaston, so nice of you to make it; please come in and have a seat,” I said, putting on my brightest parent-teacher conference smile as I offered my hand. He looked around, and then crossed the room to shake my hand. His fingers were warm and strong, and I bit my tongue to keep from gasping as I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us. He didn’t seem to notice as I quickly pulled my hand back and motioned for him to sit down. “Will your wife be joining us?”
“Who? Oh, Remy can’t make it; she’s got a meeting,” he said, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. He unzipped his coat as he eyed one of the front desks before squeezing himself into the seat behind the desk. I had never been more aware of a man’s body than I was at this moment. His voice broke through my private thoughts, “It’s just you and me.”
“I see,” I nodded, as I reached across my desk and pulled my gradebook out from under the stack of homework I’d collected that morning. “I don’t know if Nina has told you anything about her History grade, but it’s not good.”
“I know she’s been slacking a little,” he said, looking around the room as if he were the student. I handed him a report I’d prepared detailing all of Nina’s missing assignments as he added, “She’s having a bit of trouble adjusting to the divorce.”
“Oh, you’re divorced?” I said, trying unsuccessfully to hide my surprise. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said with a mirthless grin. “It was for the best for all of us, but Nina has struggled to get used to living in two places, and I know she’s clashing with her mom right now. Nothing major, I think; just teenage stuff.”
“Well, at least you’re aware of the challenges,” I said, looking down at my gradebook as I tried to avoid openly gawking at Mr. Gaston’s handsome face. He had a square jaw that, when combined with his day-old scruff, gave him an air of rugged danger.
“Indeed I am, but I was not aware of her failing History grade,” he said, as he scanned the report with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t quite get it myself,” I admitted. “She’s a very bright student, and she’s capable of writing quite brilliantly, but for some reason, she’s stopped doing her homework or turning in the assigned essays.”
“I’m not sure what to tell you about that, but I can guarantee that this will not stand,” he said firmly. I couldn’t stop myself from noticing the way his jeans were stretched tightly across his thighs as he absentmindedly ran a hand down one of them.
“I think we can work together to get Nina back on track,” I said, forcing my attention away from Blake Gaston’s rock-solid body and back to the papers in front of me.
“Oh, I’ll get her back on track all right,” he said, as he slid out from behind the desk and stood in front of me.
“Well, don’t do anything too drastic,” I said, as I looked up into his eyes. I could smell the scent of smoke and pine wafting across the space between us, and the masculine smell only intensified my attraction. “I’m sure that if you speak to her and point out the need for her to consider her grades as part of her college goals, we’ll be able to move her back toward a more productive study path.”
“The hell with that; I’m going to tell her that I’m taking her phone away until she gets her damn grades up!” he declared, as he folded the report I’d given him into a neat little square and stuffed it into the front pocket of his shirt. “This may be the only thing her mother and I can agree on anymore.”
“Well, I’ll be here to support Nina and encourage her to live up to her potential,” I said, as he turned and stalked across the room toward the door. When he reached it, he stopped and turned back toward me.
“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Ms. Fowler?” he asked.
“No, that’s all,” I said, even though my body was clearly giving me signs that there was a lot else I wanted to discuss with this man. He nodded and exited out into the hallway as I sunk down into my chair and ran a hand through my hair, trying to compose myself.
It took me awhile to get myself and my things together as images of Blake Gaston filled my mind. As I headed out to my car, I wondered if KO was working tonight and briefly considered making a detour to The Lucky Clover to have a drink and tell her about the conference, but the heavy bag of homework assignments I’d slung over my shoulder told me that this would not be a good choice.
I sighed as I started the car and headed home to feed Howard and get started on grading papers.
Chapter Seven
Blake
Friday morning, I rolled into work just as Tony pulled up and parked. The storm had left several feet of snow in its wake, but Chief had made sure the street in front of the station had been plowed first. It was the little things that he took care of that made a difference in the morale at the fire station, and we all appreciated the effort.
“What’s shakin’ Big B?” Tony called, as he walked toward me. “How’d the teacher conference go yesterday?”
“Good news, bad news,” I said. “My kid is failing History, but her teacher is gorgeous.”
“Ooooh, hot for teacher!” Tony yelled, as he slapped my back. “I’m liking the sound of this!”
“You’re such a damn pervert,” I sighed, as I pulled open the door to the station and walked inside. “She’s Nina’s teacher, for God’s sake. I mean, sure, she’s a knockout, but I didn’t exactly ask about her marital status or whether she’d like to go out for dinner.”
“Why not just ask if she wants to do you on her desk?” Tony asked, as we shoved our backpacks and coats into our lockers.
“You have got to be shitting me,” I laughed. “It was a parent-teacher conference, not some cheesy porn flick, you idiot!”
“I know, but I can dream, can’t I?” Tony asked.
“Not about me or my sex life, you weirdo,” I laughed, as I smacked the back of his head.
We joined the rest of the crew in the kitchen for a breakfast spread that included eggs, bacon, and pancakes. As we dished up our plates and poured ourselves coffee, Chief came into the dining room with a serious look on his face.
“Gentlemen and ladies, we have a new addition to the squad today,” he said, stepping
back to reveal a tall, serious-looking young man standing behind him. “I’d like to introduce you to our rookie squad member, Cal Jordan. I’d like you to welcome him and show him the ropes.”
Muttered welcomes rose up from the lips of the squad members bent over their plates, trying to shovel in a meal before a call came in.
“Thanks, it’s good to be here,” Cal said, as he ducked his head and grabbed a plate. Chief shot me and Tony a look before walking back to his office.
I said nothing as I scooted my chair closer to Tony to make room for the new guy. The rest of the squad began asking questions and teasing Cal about his rookie status.
“Fucking great,” Tony mumbled, as he shoved another forkful of pancakes into his mouth.
Suddenly the station bells began ringing as a voice came over the intercom informing us that we had a call. Tony quickly shoved the last piece of bacon on his plate into his mouth and pushed himself away from the table.
“C’mon, rookie!” I yelled, as we all headed for the rigs. Once loaded, I reached over and adjusted the closure on Cal’s coat, telling him, “You have to make sure to close it properly or you’ll end up with a shitload of ash going down your neck and chest.”
He nodded solemnly as he looked down and took note of the proper way to fasten it. I didn’t mind rookies; I just didn’t want to have to babysit them while I was trying to do my job. This kid looked like he’d just graduated from high school, and I worried that he was too green to be of any use at the structure fire we were headed to.
“Rookie, hang back once we get there and just watch,” I said, as we pulled around the corner and parked. “There will be plenty of time for joining in the action, but today’s not the day.”
Tony and I hopped out of the rig and walked over to where Chief was standing, looking up at the two-story house. Flames were shooting out of the upper windows on the west side of the building, and two women stood on the east side of the house pointing up at the windows yelling that there was a man trapped on the second floor. Chief gave us our orders before Tony and I donned our masks and grabbed a hose. The other guys began hoisting a ladder up to the second floor as Tony and I busted open the front door and headed up the stairs. There were flames jumping from the ceiling in the upstairs hallway, and the large wooden banister caught fire as we slowly moved up the stairway toward the second floor.