Last Girl

by K. S. Thomas

  “I want Peanut in our room with us.” I toss the tea bag I had seeping in my cup. I miss coffee.

  “I know she’ll sleep with us...but I still want her to have a designated room for all of her stuff. Changing table. Dresser. Here, look. There’s this awesome looking playhouse, too.” He leafs through his catalogue as if he’s five and it’s from Toys ‘R Us.

  “Playhouse? How old do you think this baby will be when I pop it out?”

  He frowns. “You’re taking all the fun out of nesting.”

  I chuckle. “That’s a mom thing, not a dad thing. You just want to buy stuff and spoil your little princess. That’s the dad thing.”

  “Fine. So let me do my dad thing.” He’s grinning from ear to ear as he drops the catalogue on the counter and places both hands on my hips.

  “Your room can be the nursery. We sleep in mine, same as we do right now anyway.”

  He kisses me.

  “Thank you.”

  Then he releases me to hurry from the room.

  I let out a whistle and he comes flying back. “What?”

  “Where are you going?”

  He beams back at me. “Hardware store. Gotta buy paint.” Then he takes off again, purposely denying me the opportunity to tell him not to pick pink.

  A week after he paints the nursery purple from floor to ceiling, we’re over visiting with Pops. It’s becoming a regular Sunday thing and I like it.

  “So, Penn tells me you’re rejecting all of his name ideas.” Pop settles into his seat out on the patio. It’s beautiful out. The perfect early fall weather.

  “That’s because they’re all names of women he’s slept with.” I take a bite of the apple pie we brought over to cover how amused I am by own joke.

  Penn doesn’t find it nearly as funny. His nostrils flare and his smile fades into a stern line. “That’s not how I’m coming up with the names.”

  Pop’s laughing though. “Boy, she’s sure got your number.” He reaches for the pie to serve himself a slice as well and I marvel at how lovely a man he truly is. I don’t think I’ve ever fully appreciated the fact that he learned ASL just to make it easier for me to talk to him. Of course, I was little when he did, so I just took it at face value, but the truth is no one learns an entire language on a whim. You have to have a reason. And knowing he saw one in me and the friendship I shared with his son even then, makes my heart hurt from feeling so full.

  “Seriously though, we’re running out of time here. If you keep nixing every one of my suggestions, our baby isn’t going to have a name when she gets here.” And he really does appear to be concerned about this. Like this could really be an issue.

  “If we end up having a boy that’s going to happen either way,” I tease him. It’s just too easy not to.

  “We’re not having a boy.” It floors me how certain he is of this.

  “We could have a boy. And this whole argument is silly. We have months to go before the baby is born.” I set down my half eaten pie. “Besides. I already know what we’re naming her.”

  A spark ignites instantly in his eyes and I don’t know if it’s because I picked a name or finally admitted that I think we’re having a girl as well.

  “What is it?”

  Even Pop inches forward on his chair as if I’m about to reveal an ancient secret.

  “Marianna.”

  Both men exchange a glance.

  Pop covers his mouth with his hand and his eyes gloss over.

  Penn leans in to kiss my forehead, and I can tell even he’s fighting an unexpected bout of emotions.

  “It’s perfect.”

  I know. I knew from the moment Penn announced our Peanut was going to be a girl that I would give her the name of a woman I never met but owed my whole life to. His mother.

  Penn

  In the last few weeks, Trix’s belly has started to pop. It’s totally mesmerizing to me, watching her body change as it grows to accommodate the little person inside of her. The little person we made. She’s getting more and more active now according to Trix, who can feel her move way more than I get to. I’ve started talking to the belly every morning in hopes of coaxing her into showing off her kicking skills. Mostly is just makes Trix giggle, which makes feeling any type of baby movement impossible. I still do it though. Because I love feeling Trix giggle in my palm just as much.

  Christmas is coming up fast and everything she’s gotten excited about in months is baby related. I’m all for loading up on baby gear, hell, I’ve gone a little crazy in that department several times already, but I want to get her something special too. Something just for her.

  “What do you think of these?” I hold my phone out to Tony so he can get a look at the earrings I’m thinking of buying.

  “I don’t think they’ll fit on her finger,” he says dryly, adding more seasonings to tonight’s Chili.

  “Look, just because I’m not getting her an engagement ring for Christmas, doesn’t mean I don’t fully intend to give her one.” I swipe the screen to bring up the necklace I was eyeing as well. It’s a locket. If I get it, I’ll put pictures of her and Bo in it from when they were kids. Actually, that is what I’ll do. She’ll love it. She’ll bawl her eyes out, but she’ll love it.

  Meanwhile, Tony can’t seem to stop pressuring me to propose to her. “I don’t understand what the holdup is here. You love her, she loves you. You’re having a baby for God’s sake. Is there something about this arrangement you all have that makes you think it’s not meant to be permanent?”

  I shoot him a dirty look from across the kitchen counter. “Of course it’s permanent, asshole. Which is why I don’t feel the need to rush it. I don’t want some cheesy Christmas engagement any more than I ever want her to think I’m only asking her because she’s pregnant.” I watch as he huffs his dissatisfaction. “I’m going to marry her, Tony. And I’m going to expect you to be my best man when I do.”

  He about drops his wooden spoon in the pot he’s been stirring. “You’re serious?”

  “Who the hell else would I ask?”

  He shrugs, still somewhat taken aback. “I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me to stand up with them at the altar before.”

  “That’s probably because I’m your best friend and I haven’t been married yet.” I watch him still mulling the whole concept over. “Seriously, dude. I’m feeling more pressure waiting for you to say yes than I’m expecting when I finally ask her.”

  He looks up from his chili and laughs. “I thought my answer was a given. Of course I’ll stand at your side. You’re like a fucking brother to me. There’s no way I’d miss it.”

  “Good. Now how long before you stop stirring that chili and put some in a bowl for me? I’m starving over here.”

  He shrugs. “It’s been done for twenty minutes. I’m just letting it simmer until enough people express interest.”

  That’s all I need to hear to round up the crew so we can have dinner. It’s been quiet in here for nearly two hours now. Won’t be long and we’ll get a call. It’s bound to happen. Especially this time of year. We have one of the mildest winters in the entire country and yet we see more house fires come November than any other season. I think it’s lack of practice and preparation, honestly. It’s like people panic when it gets cold, go all balls to the walls with their heating efforts and then just can’t figure out how to warm the place up without burning it down in the process.

  The night is slower than anticipated. After dinner, a bunch of us sit around and bullshit for nearly two hours before I decide I might as well get some sleep. Trix is working tonight too, so there won’t be any lengthy chats before bed. It’s my least favorite thing about working twenty-four hour shifts. Going to bed without her.

  I send her a text, telling her I love her, and then I roll over and shut my eyes. With any luck, by the time I open them again my shift will be over and I can go home to find her there. In just three more months, it’ll be them.

  The last thing I remember befo
re drifting off is how my face hurt from smiling so hard for so long, just imaging the sight of the woman I love holding the baby we made.

  Unfortunately, the next thing I see, is Tony’s face as he’s yelling at me to wake up.

  “House fire.”

  No shit.

  I’m up and in my gear in no time. Then we’re on the truck, sirens blasting and all of us mentally prepping for what we’re about to find.

  When we arrive, flames are already to the roof and a crowd of neighbors has gathered all around the property. The police are already here and they’re doing their best to get everyone to back up and clear a path for us to get to work.

  Tony and I exchange a look as soon as our feet hit the ground. It’s routine now. A silent understanding that neither of us walks in or out without the other.

  “Everyone out?” I ask the cop closest to us.

  “Yes. Fire started in the living room. Old space heater, they think. Mom woke up when she smelled smoke and immediately got the kids out.” He peers over at the house quickly being engulfed by flames. “Think you’ll be able to save their home?”

  It’s doubtful. “We’ll try.”

  And we do. For three hours, until the place is nothing but smoldering remains of a structure that used to be a house. I hate calls like these. Seeing the devastation build on people’s faces while they have no choice but to stand by and watch everything they own be destroyed. But they’re just things. And they can be replaced. I know that. They know that. It still sucks though.

  When we get back to the fire station I’ve got less than an hour to go before the end of my shift. I actually start to hum while I do my part and finish up chores to clean up from our last fire and get things ready for the morning crew coming.

  Tony comes up beside me to give me a hand. “I’d get her the locket. It’s way more her style.”

  “You been thinking about this the whole time?” I toss him a new loop of webbing from the supply locker since his was damaged on the last run.

  “Not the whole time.” He shrugs, grinning sheepishly. “Just somewhere between you asking me which I liked best and watching you smash windows while flames were busting out of them made me realize that you could die without my ever telling you which one I liked. So, thanks for not dying before I could tell you. That would have really pissed me off.”

  “Sure, no problem.” I stop what I’m doing. “Hey, what about you? You going to be buying anything extra special for anyone I need to know about this year?”

  He throws his hand up as if to slow me down. “Just because you’re all about commitment and settling down and shit, don’t think the rest of us are ready to follow you.” He shoots me a disgusted look and takes a step back.

  I laugh. “You don’t have to keep your distance, man. It’s not contagious.”

  “Whatever you say.” He smirks. “For real though, you’ve set the bar high, my friend. And I appreciate it. At least now I know what to be on the lookout for.”

  “You’ll know it when you see it.” I pat him on the shoulder. “And if you don’t act on it, you know I’ll be there breathing down your neck and giving you shit until you do.”

  We start walking toward the door. “That’s good to know.”

  I’ve barely got one foot back inside when the alarm sounds. I glance at the clock. It’s six twenty-seven.

  Apparently, so did Tony. “Shit. We were so close.”

  “Let’s do this and do it fast. I’ve got a pregnant woman to get home to and a belly to chat with.” I hear a general grunt of agreement from the rest of the crew. We’ve all got our own reasons for wanting to get home.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Trix

  I pull my phone out to text Penn. I’m going to be late coming home. There’s a massive fire at an assisted living facility and I’m on call for the ER. Even with my replacement showing up, there’s no way I can leave until after we take care of everyone that’s bound to be affected by this fire.

  I’m half through my message when I have second thoughts about sending it. He’s probably at that fire as we speak. The last thing I want is to have his phone go off and distract him. Ever since he found out I was pregnant he’s had the thing on him twenty-four seven. He never leaves it unchecked.

  I make my rounds with my existing patients one last time while it’s the calm before the storm. When I reach Mrs. Morgan’s room I’m not surprised to find Nat sitting in there with her. That woman really needs to lay off cosmetic surgery. The last round with her nose didn’t go so hot and wound up in an infection which landed her here.

  “Hey, Mama! Look at that belly.” Nat greets me with outstretched arms, ready to hug my midsection.

  “She was kicking up a storm earlier.” I run a hand over my stomach. “Penn will freak when he feels her going at it. He’s been dying to feel her for weeks.”

  Concern moves in over her bright blue eyes. “I heard about that fire down at Water’s Edge. He working it?”

  “I would imagine. He was still on duty when the call went out.” I squeeze her hand. “He does this every two days, Nat. Every shift he goes to work. We just don’t hear about it on the news every time.”

  “I know. I just don’t know how you stand it.”

  I shrug. Some days I don’t know either. “It’s who he is.”

  Nat grins shiftily. “And you looooove him.”

  That I do.

  “So, how long after this one greets the world before you start working on baby Natalie?” She’s still not thoroughly convinced naming our first child after someone other than her is a wise choice, but she’s willing to settle for second born. Provided we don’t wait too long apparently.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that.” I start toward the reception area of our floor to check in with the other nurses. I wouldn’t mind an update on the fire if they have one.

  “Pretend away, I gotta get to work anyway. Harriette is settling in nicely with everyone, but she’s not as thorough as you were.” She leans in to give me a hug before she heads for the elevators and takes off.

  I don’t miss working at Dr. Patterson’s office, but I do miss getting to spend my days with Nat. We still see each other regularly, but it’s not the same.

  I approach Belinda, the nurse in charge of this unit to ask her about the fire, when I feel my phone vibrate at my side.

  It’s the ER. A burn victim was just admitted. He’s got third degree burns covering nearly seventy percent of his body and they’re prepping him for emergency surgery as we speak.

  I wave a never mind toward Belinda and run for the elevators, pushing the button repeatedly until the doors slide open in front of me.

  Within seconds I’m on the main floor, rushing out into the ER. It’s chaotic in here as usual. Senior citizens fill the bulk of the beds, most of which seem to be suffering from smoke inhalation. Some, minor burns accompanied by cuts and bruises. A few seem to be suffering with health issues not related to the fire itself but rather the trauma and stress of the experience.

  I turn the corner onto the back corridor filled with the private rooms reserved for the more severe cases and I stop dead in my tracks when I find myself suddenly face to face with Tony. It’s not the sight of him that stops me. It’s his expression. I’ve seen it before. At the airport. When he was coming to find Penn...to tell him I was dead.

  A lump forms in my throat so big I feel like I’m suffocating. I start to move again, running at full speed and prepared to take him out if he doesn’t get out of my way.

  But he catches me. He holds my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him. To see his mouth. To understand his words.

  “He’s not dead.”

  Something inside me breaks and every last feeling I’ve ever felt rushes through me like a tidal wave unable to be contained.

  Tony has to move fast to catch me before I hit the floor.

  “There was a woman trapped inside. She worked there. She was supposed to have left hou
rs ago but decided to stay late to keep an elderly patient company after they’d had an episode. Penn found her. He saved her life.”

  I can tell Tony is struggling with the words, in spite of doing his best to seem confident.

  “But as he was bringing her outside, the roof caved in. He managed to push her out before she got caught in the debris, but he wasn’t able to get himself out in time.”

  His composure falters and his eyes are drowning in regret. “I swear to you, Trix. I was in there the second it happened. I got him out as fast as I could.”

  I nod because it’s all I can manage. I feel sick. I don’t have time to feel sick.

  I take a deep breath and do my best to erase any trace of fear or pain from my face. Penn needs me to be strong. To hold it together. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  I twist my arm out of Tony’s hand and start to walk toward the room I know he’s in. The room I was headed to all along.

  As soon as I see him, I know it’s bad. Nearly his entire body is covered in fresh gauze and the doctors are in the process of intubating him to help him breathe. When Penn sees me, he stops them.

  I have no idea what he says to them because I can’t see his lips from this angle, but whatever it is has everyone’s eyes fill with pity as they turn toward me. Ignoring every last one of their stares, I walk up to the bed.

  I want to hold his hand, touch him in some way to offer him comfort and strength, but I can’t. The only exposed skin I can connect with mine is his face. Gingerly, I rest my palm on his cheek, using my other hand to comb his hair back out of his face. It’s covered in so much soot and dirt from the debris, the usual dirty blond looks black.

  I do my best to muster a smile and whisper, “I thought we said we weren’t going to do this anymore.”

  His lips begin to curve up in an attempt to match my gesture but wind up faltering in a painful grimace. “I screwed up, Trix. I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t be talking. It brings on a coughing spell that shakes his chest violently and sends every medical personnel in the room into a frenzy around him.