Hot Nights with the Fireman

by Lynne Silver

  How Jason willingly and voluntarily entered her worst nightmare on a regular basis, she couldn’t fathom. And now he’d been hurt.

  “Come on.” She tapped and banged the steering wheel, letting the car inch forward. The second it changed, she shot forward, racing to get to the hospital in time. She prayed she’d be on time. He could be dying. He could already be dead. No, she couldn’t think like that. He was alive, he had to be.

  Ten speeding-ticket-worthy minutes later, she skidded into a parking spot in the large covered garage of the hospital. She’d been here often, for many of her doctors were in the medical center wing of the building. But she’d never been to this particular burn center. She wasn’t even sure which direction to go. She ran toward the nearest entrance and practically accosted the first hospital employee she saw.

  “Burn Center. Where?”

  The woman felt her panic and didn’t waste time. “Through this building. Across the courtyard, first door on the left.”

  She sprinted, sliding a little on the slick hospital floors, and soon she was bursting into the Burn Center.

  The receptionist at the desk greeted her, eyeing her sweaty, half-crazed self as a possible danger. Val could almost see her hand inching toward the emergency panic button ready to call for backup should the crazy lady prove violent.

  She took a breath and tried to compose herself. Slapping on her most professional PR persona, she politely said, “I’m looking for Jason Moore. He’s a firefighter.” So much for professionalism. Her voice cracked on the word firefighter, but the receptionist’s frosty look softened, and she slid over a sign-in binder. Valerie hastily scrawled her name and followed the directions down the hall and up the elevator one floor.

  She didn’t know what to expect. Thinking hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of her mind when she’d streaked out of the station to find Jason by any means necessary. She rode up alone in the large elevator, trying to calm down and be ready to face whatever greeted her. The doors slid open and she was met by a few of the firefighters she’d come to know, except for one all-important face.

  “Hi, Valerie,” came a chorus of greetings, but it was an acknowledgment. No one looked enthused to see her or even surprised. They were sprawled in chairs across the small waiting room. Some stared at a TV set mounted to the wall, some were sipping from foam cups. Fighting back panic, she approached the group.

  “Where’s Jason?”

  Rebecca, the only female firefighter in the waiting area, stood. With a puzzled look, she said, “He’s downstairs, in the emergency room. I’ll show you.” When they were a few steps away from everyone, Rebecca turned to her with sympathetic eyes. “He’s fine, really.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, wondering why he was in the ER and not with the rest of the off-duty crew. She took the elevator back downstairs and went hunting for Jason. After getting directions from a few nurses and doctors, and giving a few white lies about being a family member, she was finally sent to what she hoped was the correct bed. She placed her hand on the edge of the pale blue curtain. She didn’t know what she’d find inside. Slowly she pulled it aside, expecting the worst.

  “Valerie?” Jason was sitting up in bed, looking groggy. “What are you doing here?”

  She raced to him and launched herself on him in a bear hug, at least as much as the bed with rails allowed. “Jason,” she whispered against his hospital gown. “I was so scared.” The emotion of the day caught up, and sobs erupted out of her.

  His hand came up to awkwardly cradle her. “Hey, baby. Don’t cry. I’m fine. How did you know to find me here?”

  She pushed back from the embrace and perched on the bed. Now she saw he was not as fine as she’d first thought. A fresh-looking cast braced his arm from fingers to elbow. “You broke your arm,” she cried, reaching for it, but stopping before touching it.

  “I’m fine.” His good hand stroked her hair back from her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t show to help you move. Were you waiting with your bags to move?”

  She nodded.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a small house fire. Nothing that would make me late. And then this”—he lifted his arm and winced—“happened, and I didn’t want you to come racing here.”

  She thought it was sweet he’d tried to protect her, but, “I hadn’t heard from you all morning. I got worried when you were late,” she confessed. “After Friday night…after your note…

  “Are you really all right?” She knew she was babbling, but her brain struggled to process her emotions right now, because a large part of her knew that the reason she was so freaked out by Jason’s accident was that she cared. Too much.

  The fact that he was downstairs not in the Burn Center was salve on her emotional wound, but her body had yet to come down off the adrenaline rush from when Dan had mistakenly told her he was in the Burn Center.

  She stroked a finger lightly down his cast. “Then you’re okay? You’re not burned?”

  His uninjured arm reached across his body to pat her, but he had a dark look on his face. “I’m fine, but José’s not.”

  Remembering the sweet, slightly older firefighter, her eyes widened. “What happened to José?”

  He took a breath. “It was a rough night. We had back-to-back calls.” As she’d suspected. She noticed now how tired he looked. It was partly her fault for keeping him up late Friday. Maybe if he’d had a full night’s sleep, he would be healthy now with no broken arm.

  “This last call was a doozy. No smoke detector and a whole bunch of kids playing in the attic. By the time we got there, a lot of the house was gone, but we had to get the kids out. It was a kitchen fire and they were trapped upstairs.”

  He paused, and she heard the gritty quality of his voice. She leaned for the cup of ice water and held the straw to his mouth.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t talk if it hurts,” she said, but it would kill her not to hear the whole thing.

  “Nah, I’m okay.” But he held on to the water cup. “Anyway, José and I got on the ladder to get the kids.”

  She held her breath, waiting and praying they got the kids. Please God, let all the kids be alive.

  “We got all the kids out.” Her breath whooshed out. “But a roof joist caved in. Got my arm. And José.”

  “Is he…alive?”

  “He’s hurt pretty bad. Is everyone still up in the waiting room?”

  She nodded and squeezed his hand. He looked somber. “I didn’t want to call you until my arm was set. I didn’t want to frighten you.”

  “Too late,” she said.

  “Val?” His eyes searched her face. “Were you really? Frightened, that is?”

  She looked away and nodded.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I never wanted you to be scared. Especially over something as minor as a broken arm.”

  “It’s not minor to me. You could’ve been killed.”

  He frowned at her. “Val, relax. It’s just a broken arm.”

  “It’s more than a broken arm. You were in a fire.”

  His palm stroked her forearm. “You are so spooked right now. This is why I didn’t want to call you.”

  She sat straight. “What do you mean, you didn’t want to call me?”

  He leaned back against the hospital sheets, the corners of his mouth pinched in pain. “Because a lot of women think it’s cool or sexy to date a firefighter until something like this happens. Then shit gets real.”

  He was offering her an out, and a tiny part of her was tempted to take it, because the fear she’d had for him had brought up too many bad memories. Yet staring at his handsome, tired face, she couldn’t take the offered out. She cared for him too much. “You think I’d walk away, because I’m too weak or shallow?” The worry and fear rolling inside her all morning while she waited for Jason started to fester and bubble.

  “No, I think you’re incredibly strong, but you’ve told me we’re having a fling. I didn’t know if my strong feelings wer
e one-sided. I didn’t want to make you come to a hospital when we’ve been dating less than a month. That’s not exactly fling dating material.”

  She fiddled with the sheet while perched on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t deny that every cell in her body was screaming to get the hell out of there. The days followed by weekly appointments spent at a hospital like this had stolen enough of her life. No, she didn’t want to be back here and wouldn’t be except for Jason, looking fatigued on the bed with her. “I’d prefer to make my own decisions. I thought after Friday night, I’d made it clear we’re more than a fling, which means, I’m going to have to be strong enough to handle stuff like this.” Her words sounded brave. She wasn’t sure her soul could live up to the brave words.

  The truth was, she’d burst into the Burn Center upstairs running on adrenaline, but now that her brain had caught up to her body, she was terrified. As in, she wanted to curl up under the covers with Jason with the sheet over her head. Or better yet, race out of the hospital to hide under the covers of her own bed.

  “Okay. My bad. I’ll call you next time.”

  Before she could retort that there better not be a next time, the curtain slid to the side and a nurse walked in. “One more BP check and we’ll be getting you discharged and back out with your friends,” she said. She bustled around the room, gathering up equipment and a rolling cart with electronics.

  Valerie made to stand off the bed, but the nurse shooed her back. “You’re fine where you are. I can get his vitals with you sitting there.”

  Silently she watched Jason get a final checkup. “The doctor will be along any minute to get you officially out of here.”

  “Thanks,” Jason said, keeping his eyes on her, not the nurse. As soon as the curtain closed behind the nurse, he eyed her. “Are we good?”

  She stared back for a long second, repeating a silent mantra in her head that he was alive and whole. Her hand remained in contact with his body, because she irrationally worried that if she let go, she’d lose it. Touching him anchored her, and she was able to tamp down her fears and speak in a relatively calm voice. “Yeah. We’re good. I was just really scared when I didn’t hear from you and you didn’t answer your phone.”

  “Oh, Val.” He threw his arms around her shoulder and yanked her into his chest.

  “Ow,” they both said at the same time.

  “My shoulder,” she said, sitting back and rubbing the spot his cast had bumped.

  “My arm,” he said, gingerly holding his cast straighter.

  The door to the hospital room opened again and a young doctor with a clipboard walked in. “Okay, Mr. Moore. It’s time to get you out of here.” She stared at the clipboard and acted as if she didn’t see Val in the room. The doctor scrawled some things on a piece of paper and placed three prescription sheets on the rolling cart next to the bed. “The cast stays on for six weeks. And no work.”

  Jason groaned. “I hate medical leave.”

  Val’s eyes widened and the fear was back nearly suffocating her in its depth. “How many times have you been on medical leave?”

  “I’ve been a firefighter for more than ten years. It happens.” He smiled up at the doctor. “Thanks, Doc. How’s my buddy José doing?”

  The doctor frowned. “Sorry, privacy laws don’t allow me to release medical information without written consent, and what makes you think I have tabs on what’s happening upstairs?”

  Jason kept staring at the woman, who finally sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “He’s alive, but he inhaled a lot of smoke. Third-degree burns on his neck.”

  Valerie’s grip on Jason’s thigh tightened at the words third-degree burns. She knew intimately the kind of pain José was in now. Her brush with fire had happened more than twenty years ago, but it didn’t stop her from remembering the pain. Not to mention the fear and shame. At least her own scars could stay hidden. If José’s were on his neck, he’d be showing them off to the world on a daily basis.

  A tear dripped down her cheeks, and she turned away on the pretense of looking for a tissue.

  “Thanks for telling me, Doc.”

  “You’re welcome. Now go rejoin your crew in the waiting room.” Finally she turned and nodded at Valerie, who was half hiding her face behind a tissue.

  She surreptitiously wiped her eyes. “Has someone called José’s wife?” she asked as the door shut behind the doctor. José was likely in a lot of pain. He’d need support from his family, just like she’d needed. Only she’d woken from her pain to discover only her father remained and that Mom had not made it out of the fire. More tears. More tissues.

  If Jason thought her reaction was over the top, he didn’t say a word.

  Jason slowly swung his legs off the side of the bed. “Sure, the captain called.”

  “What about your parents? Did anyone call them?” Her voice didn’t sound at all calm.

  He stood and glanced back at her where she still sat cross-legged on the bed. “Why would anyone call my parents?” He held up his cast. “For this minor boo-boo?”

  “It’s not minor,” she said sharply. “You could’ve been killed.” Jason narrowed his eyes at her, but finally spun and presented her with his back.

  “Help me?”

  She swallowed hard, tossed the tissue in the trash, and rose and yanked on the strings holding the flimsy hospital gown together. His clothes were folded into a large plastic bag on the rolling cart. She tugged the bag open and shook out a white undershirt. It was still damp with sweat. She pulled it over his head for him, standing on tiptoe to reach. She ran her gaze over every inch of visible skin, checking for burns or bruises. Other than the need for a good long shower, he looked hale and hearty. Thank God.

  Together they worked to get him fully dressed and ready to head out upstairs to the hospital waiting room with the rest of the crew. A large part of her wanted to find an opening to excuse herself and head home. Yet an equally large part was feeling terrified solidarity. She felt as if she owed it to Jason and José to stay. Even though neither of them knew her internal struggle, it felt like the right thing to do was to stay.

  “Moore.”

  “Jason.”

  A chorus of greetings met them as they walked hand in hand from Jason’s private hospital room to the public lounge. No one commented on their obvious couplehood. Very little talking was happening at all. An air of despondency and exhaustion had settled over the group as a whole. Valerie glanced out the window and saw that the afternoon sun was pouring into the waiting area and it would be dusk soon. The firefighters in the waiting area had been off duty and had obviously rushed to the hospital when they’d heard news. They’d likely sit here today until their next shift started. They could use a break.

  Unfortunately, no break was in sight, but she could offer sustenance. “I’m going to pick up some food,” she announced. She wished she hadn’t dropped the entire platter of burritos on the station floor now. She could’ve used them. Turning to Jason, she pushed him gently toward a chair. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Her generosity was really self-serving. By going on a food run, she got a much-needed break to find her equilibrium and breathe deeply for the first time in hours.

  A while later she was back with bags of sub sandwiches and a vat of coffee. One or two of the crew were gone and a new face here or there was collapsed in a chair. She knew Jason wasn’t going anywhere until José was deemed stable.

  Silently, she handed out turkey or meatball subs to everyone then settled next to Jason with her own sandwich.

  “Thanks,” he said. “This was really nice of you.”

  “Of course,” she said simply, and took a bite of the sandwich, which tasted like unflavored dough. Food in a hospital always did. She didn’t know why. Nevertheless, everyone in the group sat chewing in silence as if eating the sandwich were part of the job assignment. The night stretched on.

  Every so often someone got up to stretch or change chairs or use the bathroom. It was a mos
tly silent waiting game. Her dad had done this for days on end. He’d sat in the waiting room alternating between anxiety and total grief. She’d have to thank him again.

  At one point the dullness was broken by the arrival of José’s wife. She’d been at work, and didn’t have the kind of job that would let her off without docking her pay. Valerie’s heart went out to her as the woman spoke to some crewmembers then raced to José’s room with her infant clutched in her arms.

  She glanced at Jason, who had his feet up on the chair opposite and head back with eyes closed. His newly broken arm rested on the seat next to him. Was this what it was like, being a firefighter’s significant other? It had all been sexy fun and games until now, but this…this was unbearable. He’d said most women split when shit got real. She didn’t like being lumped in with them, but she wasn’t like most women. She had real and valid fears surrounding firefighters.

  She didn’t know how the others stood this. She was right back to being in a hospital, only this time on the outside of the patient room.

  “You should go,” Jason suddenly said, opening his eyes and rolling his head to look at her. “You don’t have to be here all night. You have work tomorrow. And you want to move back into your apartment.”

  “Of course I’ll stay,” she heard her mouth say, but her brain was already in the parking lot pulling out.

  Jason grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss on her knuckles. “You’re amazing,” he said, keeping hold of her hand. She gave his a squeeze.

  “You need me. I’m here,” she said. Inside, her stomach churned and her brain protested the idea of being here another second. The fact that it was José and not Jason in danger was the only thing keeping her in her seat and not jumping out of her skin like a wild woman. The overly loud clock on the wall ticked on, marking off hours with all the speed of a sloth.

  Her back hurt from sitting in the chair, her eyes hurt with unshed tears, and her heart hurt at the thought that one day in the future it could be her racing in to see Jason badly injured. They’d gotten off light today with only a broken arm.