Firefighter's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  “Aw, come on… We were bonding.”

  “Is that what we were doing?”

  “Fuck you, Phil,” Kendrick yelled at my retreating back. “I don’t even know why I’m friends with you.”

  Laughing, I headed to Apparatus Bay Support to clean out my supplies and make sure all the equipment was ready for the next emergency call. I was sorting through my equipment when Sergeant Green walked in. He was a tall, impressive man with a thick silver mustache that matched his silver hair. I had a huge amount of respect for the kind of man he was, but more importantly, I had gratitude for him taking a chance on me when no one else would.

  “Phil,” Sarge said, coming forward when he spotted me.

  “Evening, Sarge,” I greeted. “How’s your wife?”

  “She’s nagging me to retire,” he said in his deep, clear voice.

  “Retire?” I said. “You’re much too young.”

  Sarge narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m pushing sixty and don’t pretend you didn’t know that.”

  “You’re not actually thinking about it, are you?” I asked.

  “I’ve been doing this job for thirty-six years,” Sarge said, and he sounded tired. “Retiring doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I have grandkids I want to see grow up.”

  I looked at Sarge, and I saw the kind of man I wanted to be. Seeing as how I didn’t have any real role models growing up, he was the first person I had to look up to and learn from. He was strong, brave, and decisive. He had fought in the thick of things for twenty-eight years before being promoted to chief. And with everything he did around the fire station, he had still done his best for his wife and their two children, both of whom were older than I was.

  “Sarge,” I said, looking at him as my mentor for more than just the job. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  He looked a little surprised, but he nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Well… I was wondering if you ever found it difficult to balance this job with your family?”

  Sarge listened intently and then nodded. “You met a girl, didn’t you?”

  I smiled. “It’s not near anywhere serious,” I said. “We’re purely friends. It’s just that… I don’t really want to take it any further if there’s no room in my life for a relationship.”

  “That’s crazy. You can’t put your life on hold for anything—not even this job. You just have to learn to balance it.”

  “How?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “By sleeping less,” Sarge replied, with an amused smile. “Family is a big commitment, Phil, and so is this job. You’d be taking a lot on if you decide to one day start a family, and not every woman can deal with that.

  “My advice to you is this: pick a woman who understands this job. Pick a woman who respects you for your service and respects what you do for the community. That’s the girl you need to marry.”

  “You’re getting a little ahead of me, Sarge,” I said. “I’m not even close to thinking about marriage just yet. I’ve just met this girl, and as I said, we’re strictly friends at the moment.”

  “But obviously, that’s not all you want to be.”

  “Well…”

  “What’s holding you back?” he asked. “This job?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “And the fact that her brother also happens to be my friend.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I’d be breaking a rule, wouldn’t I?”

  Sarge shrugged. “Depends on the friendship,” he said. “And depends on the friend.”

  “I’m just not sure what I should do at the moment.”

  Sarge clapped me on the back. “It depends on how strongly you feel about this girl,” he told me. “Some women are worth breaking friendships for.”

  I laughed. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “Maybe,” he said with a little twinkle in his eye.

  “Thanks for the advice, Sarge,” I said.

  “My door is always open.” He nodded before heading back out to his office.

  I thought long and hard about what Sarge had told me. It was good advice, but it still didn’t make my decision any easier. Sometimes I wished I had a family to talk to, but everyone from my childhood had scattered, and we had all taken different paths, some by choice and others by force. I thought about my father and the nights he would stumble home drunk and angry, looking for a fight. He had been buried for ten years now, and I still couldn’t find it in me to miss him even a little.

  I thought about my mother and the sad expressions she wore at different times of the day. She had been a beautiful woman, but she lost her beauty there towards the end. She had been so consumed with her disappointing life that it had eaten away at her. I think she must have finally realized that it was either her or us—and she chose herself. There were still days when I was hurt by her choice…but a part of me understood it, too.

  I thought about my fearless older brother. He had all the courage and conviction that I had lacked growing up. When I was five, my goal in life was to grow up to be like Paul. And then I got older and realized that my superhero of a brother was nothing more than a juvenile delinquent who was just as lost as the rest of us. He put on a better act than most, but it was an act all the same.

  I could see the broken threads of the family I had once had, and it hurt to think that we were no longer even that. I realized suddenly that we had never truly been a family. We were just separate people, brought together by a combination of bad choices and DNA that wasn’t really strong enough to hold us together for long.

  After I had been initiated as a firefighter and when I was out on different calls, I would come across families. They were all in different situations in various degrees of stress and emergency, but the one thing they had in common was fear of losing a loved one. Once the crisis had been averted, they came to us with wide eyes and tears of joy and thanked us.

  If I was ever in that position, I knew I would have no one to worry about me. I would have no one to pray for me. I would have no one. Period.

  It was a sad reality, but it was my reality, and I had made my peace with it. At least, I thought I had. But these last few weeks talking to Megan had made me realize that I missed having a shoulder to lean on. I missed having someone I could confide in. I while I hadn’t actually confided anything too personal to Megan, I realized was that I felt comfortable enough to want to—and that worried me. Or maybe it scared me; I couldn’t really tell the difference sometimes.

  Once I was done cleaning out the supplies, I walked back into the day room and contemplating calling Megan to check in. She had been abrupt the last time we had spoken, and I didn’t want to overstep, but I was started to realize that I was growing dependent on our conversations. They helped me sleep at night. She helped me sleep at night.

  Chapter Six

  Megan

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Megan,” Phil said, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to call.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know… I suppose the last time we spoke, you left kind of abruptly. I sort of got the impression that you were upset with me about something.”

  I tensed up a little, wondering if I should answer him back with the truth or just a casual excuse that meant avoiding the topic altogether.

  “I wasn’t upset,” I said because I was a coward. “I was just…tired.”

  “Hey, I can understand that.”

  “I’m sorry I hung up so abruptly,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Phil said easily.

  I paused for a moment, realizing that I’d been looking forward to talking to him all day. It was not the healthiest place for me to be right now, especially considering that Phil didn’t seem to feel the same way. It had been a month now since we’d met at Brent’s party and we hadn’t seen each other since then. And yet, we had shared dozens and dozens of phone calls. We had literally spent hours talking to each other, but I felt like he was a mystery to me and I n
eeded to delve deeper.

  “Phil, can I ask you something?” I said, speaking on a whim.

  “Of course.”

  “We’ve been talking for a month now, and I still don’t know much about you.”

  “Seriously?” Phil seemed surprised. “You know tons about me.”

  “I know your movie preferences. I know what music you listen to. I know what food you like. I know all about your job, even though I’d like to know more. But I don’t know about your childhood, your family life, your parents.”

  There was a pause on the other line. “I don’t like talking about my past, to be honest,” Phil said, finally breaking the silence. “I like to keep that stuff in the past where it belongs.”

  I nodded. Then realizing that he couldn’t see me, I spoke. “Okay… I understand if you feel like you can’t share that with me.”

  “It’s not about you, Megan,” he said gently. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying I don’t trust you. I just don’t like to bring up the things we can’t change. You just end up dwelling on them and that makes you bitter. I spent a good portion of my life being angry about different things, and I don’t want to hold on to that anger anymore.”

  “Okay,” I said quietly. “I hear you.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “How was work?”

  It was a predictable turn to a more acceptable topic, and I felt a little disappointment creep in. I had to face the fact that I was crushing deeply on Phil. Our late-night conversations had only served to make matters worse.

  “Work was fine,” I replied distractedly. “I’m getting the hang of things. I like the working environment, and I’ve made a friend, too.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Her name is Marta,” I said. “She sits in the cubicle next to mine. She mentioned that this company offers a wide range of courses to their employees at discounted rates. They’re all about educating their staff. They believe it translates into long-term productivity.”

  “That’s smart,” Phil said approvingly. “I’m glad there are companies out there who do that kind of thing. You think you’ll take up a few courses?”

  “Not right now,” I said. “But it’s nice knowing I have an option. I know this makes me a nerd, but I quite enjoy studying.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” he laughed.

  “Would you have gone to college?” I asked. “If you had been given the opportunity, that is?”

  Phil gave himself a moment to think about it. “It’s hard to say really. The kid I was seven, eight years ago was not right for college. I wouldn’t have had the patience or the diligence to stick to that kind of commitment. I did complete my GED when I was twenty, though.”

  “So that you could become a firefighter?”

  “Yep,” Phil agreed.

  “What attracted you to this career out of all the others?” I asked, realizing that I had never asked him that particular question before.

  “I saw a rescue,” he said simply.

  “You saw a rescue?” I repeated.

  “I was taking my lunch break, standing outside of the convenience store that I was working in at the time, when I saw smoke from a building two blocks down. The smoke wasn’t stopping, and suddenly, I realized it was a full-scale fire.

  “Within minutes, the firefighters showed up. They not only stopped the fire, but they got fourteen people out of that building.

  “I just watched them work in the aftermath of the fire. They were calm, patient, and kind to the victims. There was one person…she was an older woman, probably in her sixties. She was just wailing, screaming about something, and grabbing one of the firefighter’s hands. She was trying to communicate something to him, but she was speaking another language, and no one seemed to understand her.

  “Finally, one of the civilians who had been watching the whole thing alongside me stepped forward and translated for her. Apparently, her dog was stuck inside during the fire, and she was scared he hadn’t made it out. She kept screaming that the dog was the only family she had left. And the firefighter holding her hand did the most amazing thing.”

  “What did he do?” I asked, finding myself being drawn into his story.

  “He put both his hands on her shoulders and made direct eye contact with her until she calmed down. Then he spoke to her as though she could understand what he was saying. He told her that he was going to try and find her dog. Then he turned and walked back into the building while the civilian translated for the old woman. Half an hour later, he came back out of the building with this shivering little dog tucked into his left arm.”

  I smiled. “That’s quite a story.”

  “The fire was out at this point, but I suppose I was amazed at how much extra time he had invested into finding this woman’s dog,” Phil continued. “He was so compassionate and patient. It floored me that he would take so much time and effort for an animal. I was so intrigued by that, I actually went up to him later and asked him why he had gone back in for the dog.”

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He told me that he didn’t go in for the dog. He went in for the old lady. She was obviously hysterical, and the animal meant something to her. He told me that firefighting was not just about putting out fires and saving lives. It was about being there for your community. It was about making people’s lives a little safer and easier and better.”

  “And that’s when you knew you wanted to be a firefighter?” I asked.

  “I wish I were that smart,” he replied. “No, at the time I just thought the guy was completely off his rocker. It wasn’t until months later that I realized I needed something that made me feel…worthwhile. I needed to give something back to the community. I needed to make a difference.

  “I had seen it in that fireman’s eyes that day. He was doing one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, but he was content. He was content because he was doing something that meant something. He was of use.”

  “Is it everything you wanted it to be?” I asked.

  “At first it was hell. The training was grueling, and the simulated situations you’re put in make you question preserving your own sanity. But once I’d gotten through that part… I realized that I had achieved what I’d always set out to do.”

  “Purpose.” I smiled.

  “Exactly—purpose.”

  “You’re an inspiring guy; you know that?”

  “Aw, shucks,” Phil said, feigning embarrassment. “You’re going to make me blush.”

  “I'm serious,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”

  His breathing grew very still for a moment, and for a second I thought we had been cut off. “Phil?”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Uh…nothing,” he said, and he sounded embarrassed.

  “Come on, tell me.”

  “It’s just that…no one’s ever said they were proud of me before,” he said softly. “I suppose it just took me by surprise.”

  “Gave you the feels, did it?” I said, only slightly teasing so that he didn’t feel too awkward.

  “Little bit,” he admitted.

  We laughed together, and our laughter harmonized, making me feel slightly hopeful again. That hope was dangerous because it was starting to make me impulsive.

  “Phil,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Yes, Megan?” he said, with laughter still lingering in his tone.

  “Do you like me?” I asked bluntly without stopping to rethink my words.

  “Of course, I like you—”

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” I said slowly.

  “I… What are you asking?” I sensed that he was just as nervous as I was, and he didn’t want to put his foot in it by assuming something I wasn’t asking him.

  “I suppose I’m asking you if you see us as being…just friends?” I said, unable to turn back now.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” I repeated. “Is that your answer?
”

  “No, of course not,” he replied. “I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard.”

  His reaction was slow coming, and that made my nerves ratchet up like a tidal wave. “Megan,” he began, and I felt my heart break just a little.

  “There is something between us,” I jumped in and spoke before he could continue. The courage that had ensconced me a moment ago and compelled me to ask the question had now vanished completely, and I was just scared and nervous once again. “We have this amazing connection that I’ve never had with any other guy before… Or is it just me?”

  “No,” Phil said slowly. “No, it’s most definitely not just you.”

  I felt a little flutter brushing up against my heartstrings, but I sensed that there was more he was going to say, and I probably wasn’t going to like it.

  “We do have a connection, Megan,” he said. “But my life is…crazy at the moment and I don’t know that I can invest in a relationship. Right now all I have room for in my life is a friend.”

  “I see,” I said, feeling dejected and cold.

  “And, you’re Brent’s sister, and I don’t want to cross that line with you…for the sake of my relationship with Brent,” Phil continued. “I do like you; you’re an amazing, funny, interesting, beautiful woman. But…”

  “You’re just not looking for that right now,” I said, keeping my tone calm and unaffected.

  “Right,” he said. “Can you understand that?”

  What could I say? I had no choice but to force some lightness into my voice before replying, “Of course I understand, Phil.”

  “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Megan,” he said. “I like our relationship the way it is, and I want it to continue. I still want to be friends.”

  “We are friends, Phil,” I assured him, even though I could barely stomach the disappointment. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “So you’re not just going to say goodbye now, hang up on me, and never speak to me again?” he clarified.

  “Would it hurt if I did?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said immediately.

  It felt wrong somehow. He was telling me he didn’t want a relationship right now. But he was also telling me that he needed to speak to me every day. He wanted to be my friend. It would hurt him to never speak to me again. Something was not adding up. Either I was just delusional, or he was in denial.