by Claire Adams
“Are you sure about that, Punkin?” I asked warily. Nina had a bad habit of saying what she wanted when it wasn’t quite true.
“Check with her when you drop me off,” she shrugged.
“Well, good!” my mother declared. “I’m happy that I’ll have my whole family here at the same time!”
After supper, my mother packed up bags of cookies and food for Nina and I before we headed home. Brian carried the bags out to my truck before I could protest that there was more food than we could eat in a month, let alone the week between now and Christmas. I watched Nina hug my parents tightly before we headed out to the truck.
“See you next week!” Nina shouted through her open window as I backed out of the driveway. She rolled up the window and cranked the radio up saying, “Now, don’t screw up the lyrics this time, Dad!”
“I’ll try not to,” I promised, as I smiled and pointed the truck towards home.
Chapter Ten
Emily
Saturday morning, I woke up entirely too early, so I laid in bed enjoying Howard’s soft, fuzzy warmth under the flannel sheets and letting my thoughts wander back to Blake Gaston. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he’d left my classroom, and the thoughts grew progressively racier this morning. As I let them flow, I felt the warmth spreading as I slowly caressed my body with one hand. I closed my eyes and imagined Blake’s face above mine as I slid my hand between my legs and softly stroked my already-damp panties.
Just as I was about to move my hand lower, I felt a furry paw batting my eyes and ears.
“Knock it off, Howard,” I growled, as I tried to shift my focus back to Blake. The paw tapped my lips as Howard mewed loudly. I opened one eye and said, “I’m not kidding, buddy. Knock it off!”
Howard turned in a circle and then leaned his considerably large backside up against the side of my head as he began to methodically clean himself. I reached over and shoved him off my head, but he dug in and resisted, leaving me no choice but to sit up and pick him up. By the time I’d relocated him to the other side of the bed, I’d lost the train of thought that I’d been working on.
“You are a royal pain in the ass, mister,” I muttered, as I pulled a robe on over my pajamas and slid my feet into a battered pair of slippers. Howard lay on the bed looking up at me, blinking as if I’d disturbed his sleep. I waved a hand as I muttered a few choice curse words at him and walked to the kitchen.
The house was freezing cold, but while I hated waking up in a frigid house, I also knew better than to leave the space heaters running while I was asleep. I flipped the switch on the heater in the kitchen and then went and flipped the one in the living room on, too. I started the coffee and then turned my attention to breakfast.
Once the house had begun to warm up a bit, Howard strolled into the kitchen and hopped up on his stool.
“Nice of you to join me, Mr. Lazy Pants,” I said, as I grabbed his bowl off the floor and filled it with his breakfast. I set the bowl down on the floor and watched as he eyed it and then shot me an irritated look before finally hopping down and walking over to it. I reminded him, “Beggars really can’t be choosers, you know.”
As the coffee brewed, I set about making a full Saturday morning breakfast while I listened to the news. The Boston Celtics were playing a game tonight, and I was looking forward to kicking back on my couch and watching them increase their winning streak by one more game. Despite the fact that I always had work to do to prep or grade, I allowed myself complete freedom from work on Saturdays, and today was no exception.
I’d just flipped the last of the pancakes and pulled the crisp pan of bacon out of the broiler when Kendra knocked on the back door. I opened it and was surprised to find her standing on the back porch holding a bag full of groceries.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked, taking the bag from her and peeking inside. It was full of fruit, vegetables, a carton of milk, and a variety of pastries. “What’s this for?”
“I’m working all weekend and then leave on Monday morning bright and early,” she said. “Thought you might be able to do something with these.”
“Indeed I can!” I said, as she walked over and poured herself a cup of coffee then rooted around in the bag and pulled out the milk. “Good thing you brought that; I used the last of mine on the pancakes. Want some breakfast?”
“Yeah, sure, I could eat something,” she said, as she ran a hand through her curly dark hair and shrugged off her coat and tossed it into the living room. “You want some help?”
“Yeah, grab some forks and napkins; we’ll eat in front of the television,” I said, as I put the food on plates and grabbed a bottle of syrup out of the cupboard.
We sat down on the couch and I flipped on ESPN as Kendra doused her pancakes in syrup. We ate in silence as the commentators ran through the results of all the sports events the night before, and cheered silently as they, again, announced that the Celtics were leading the NBA and looked like they might win the championship this year.
“How are the kids?” Kendra asked, as she leaned ran her finger around the edge of the plate and then offered her finger to Howard, who had jumped up between us and was now acting like we didn’t exist. He sniffed Kendra’s finger, blinked once, and then turned and walked away. KO laughed. “Wow, picky little bastard, isn’t he?”
“He’s his own person,” I said, as Howard curled up at the far end of the couch and licked his paw before putting his head down and closing his eyes. “The kids are good. I met with one of my students’ fathers this week.”
“Oh yeah? Helicopter parent come to read you the riot act about his precious angel?” she asked dryly.
“No, actually he was a divorced dad who came to find out why his daughter is failing history,” I said, wondering if I wanted to tell KO just how hot Blake Gaston was.
“Was he hot?” she asked, cutting through my question.
“Unbelievably,” I said, grinning as I fanned myself.
“Why didn’t you ask him out?”
“KO! Are you kidding? That would violate about ten of the clauses in my teaching contact!” I protested.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she shot back. “That’s utter bullshit. I mean, I can see you not dating students, but their parents? Bullshit.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s a specific rule against dating a parent,” I admitted. “But it would feel weird to date a student’s dad, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Em,” KO said, as she leaned back and laced her fingers behind her head. “We live in Waltham; it’s a small freakin’ town, and there are a limited number of eligible men around here. My theory is that if you like him and he likes you, you should go for it!”
“I have no idea if he likes me,” I admitted. “I just can’t stop thinking about him, but there’s no way I’m going to just call him up and ask him out.”
“What’s he do?”
“Firefighter,” I said.
“Oooh! That means he probably comes into the Clover!” KO said perking up. “You should come in and watch the game tonight! Maybe you’ll run into him! No harm, no foul if you meet him out on the town, my friend.”
“You’re so bad,” I laughed.
“We’re going to have the Celtics game on the big screen,” she teased. “And the drinks are two-for-one until 9!”
“Fine! Fine! I’ll come sit on a stool at the bar and watch the basketball game while you work,” I laughed. “How pathetic is that?”
“It’s only pathetic if you stay home and watch the game with your cat,” KO said. Howard opened one amber eye and looked at her disdainfully before rolling over and going back to sleep.
That evening, I put on jeans and my Celtics jersey in anticipation of the game.
“Sorry, buddy,” I said, as I flipped off the space heaters. From his spot curled up on the couch, Howard lifted his head, blinked once, and then curled back up and ignored me. “Can’t leave these things on if I’m not around. Stay curled up
. I’ll turn them back on when I get home, okay?”
I pulled up in front of The Lucky Clover and immediately found a front parking spot.
“Great, this is pathetic,” I muttered under my breath, as I made my way across the room and sat down at the far end of the bar closest to the television screen and the back door. KO smiled and poured me a beer without saying a word as I sat waiting for the game to start.
“Hey, darlin’,” a voice from behind me said halfway through the first quarter. “You waiting on your husband?”
“Huh? What the—” I said, shifting my attention from the game to the guy now standing next to me.
“You alone, darlin?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, scanning the bar for KO. She was at the other end pouring drinks for a group of guys who looked like they’d already had one too many.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone in a bar like this?” he said, before chuckling to himself.
“Um, watching the Celtics kick the crap out of the Pistons,” I said in a flat tone that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but utter annoyance at the interruption.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, ignoring the frosty chill radiating off of me.
“No thanks; I’m good,” I said, shifting my attention back to the screen but keeping him in my peripheral view.
“So, you from around here?” he continued.
“Look, I know you’re just a guy in a bar trying to make a connection with someone,” I said, turning to look at him. “But I’m not that someone. I’m here to watch the game, and I really don’t feel like being social. Not with you or anyone else, so I’m going to recommend that you pack up what you’re selling and move it a little further down the bar.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to get hostile, babe,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not hostile; I’m just trying to watch the game!” I repeated, as I turned and looked up at the screen. “And you’re making me miss all the scoring! Now move on, buddy!”
He picked up his drink, and as he moved several seats down the bar, I heard him repeating his opening line to a pretty brunette sitting alone nursing a drink. I muttered good riddance and then quickly felt my spirits lift as I watched Thomas sink a three-pointer from the side and take the Celtics lead into the double digits.
“Hell yeah!” I shouted, as I pounded the bar.
“Man, you turned that guy down cold,” KO grinned, as she nodded at the guy several seats down now intensely involved in a conversation with the brunette.
“Didn’t seem to stop him from moving on,” I shrugged.
“Girl, you’re a piece of work,” KO said, pouring me another beer and sliding it across the polished wood surface.
I watched the Celtics cream the Pistons in peace as I drank a couple more beers, and by the time the game was over, I was in good spirits. KO and I talked for a bit as the late night patrons began to filter in, and as business picked up, I waved goodbye and headed home for the night wondering what Blake Gaston was doing.
Chapter Eleven
Blake
I pulled up to the station on Christmas Eve and saw that Chief had gone all out on the annual cookout we threw for members of the community. The lawn in front of the fire station was covered in lights, and off to one side was an enormous blow-up Santa blaring Christmas carols from the bag next to his feet. I laughed as I grabbed my bag out of the truck and walked up the drive.
Inside the station, Tony was in a foul mood as he slammed cases of soda and bottled water onto a dolly. I went back to the locker room and stored my stuff before I returned to the kitchen to help.
“What’s up, man?” I asked, as I took a couple of cases of soda from him and set them on the dolly.
“She’s driving me crazy, B!” Tony shouted, as he hauled three cases of water out of the storage closet and dropped them on top of the soda. “She’s got me doing things that aren’t my job!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I said, as I swung the dolly around and pushed it toward the back door of the garage.
“She’s supposed to do the inside stuff, and I’m supposed to do the outside stuff!” he protested. “She’s got me wrapping presents! You know I have no idea how to do that shit!”
“You know, you’re kind of a dick, Tony,” I laughed, as we began pulling the plastic off the water and tossing it into the large tubs we’d set up near the grills. “Wrapping packages isn’t a gendered thing, my friend.”
“But I shovel the walk and hang the lights!” he protested more loudly. “I’m supposed to be exempt from that girly shit!”
“Oh, Tony, you have my sympathies, man, but you’d be wise to get with the program,” I laughed. “This is, after all, the 21st century. Besides, who are the packages for?”
“My parents,” he said.
“Jesus Christ, man,” I said, shaking my head. “You are so lucky your wife doesn’t kill you in your sleep!”
“Hey, guys, who's killing who?” Cal asked, as he joined the conversation. Tony stared at him without saying a word as I ducked behind the cart and grabbed a couple boxes of soda and began putting them in a second tub. Cal tried again, “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“Why don’t you go grab the rest of the drinks, rookie?” Tony asked, without looking at him. Cal sighed and then slunk away as Chief and two of the guys lit up the grills and signaled the start of the party.
“Why do you have to be so tough on the kid?” I asked, as Tony rapidly threw bottles into the tub and then dumped bags of ice onto them.
“He’s an idiot,” Tony grumbled. “Asking questions when he should keep his mouth shut. Doing stupid shit that he should have learned not to do in basic training. Idiot.”
“We were all idiots, Tony,” I reminded him, as I grabbed a bag of ice and covered the cans I’d put in the tub.
“Well, he’s a special kind of idiot,” Tony muttered. I knew Tony’s irritation was about more than the rookie, so I let him stew while I helped Chief get the meat ready for the grill.
Every Christmas Eve our station threw a party on what was normally the slowest night of the year, to celebrate another successful year, and every year the members of the community came and brought food, drinks, and toys that we would donate to the Marines Toys for Tots drive and brighten the holidays for kids who might not otherwise get anything from Santa. We provided the food, and the community provided gratitude and gifts.
It was more than a fair exchange.
“You ready to light up the grill, Chief?” I called, as he emerged from the station wearing a tall white chef’s hat and a long white butcher’s apron. Chief loved playing the role of the chef every year, mostly because at no other time did he do any cooking at the station.
“Ready and waiting!” Chief bellowed, as he cranked the gas and lit held a match to each of the three gas grills we’d borrowed for the event. Soon the grills were flaming hot, and Chief began dropping burger patties on one and hot dogs on the other.
The smell of sizzling meat made my mouth water as the guests began to arrive, each carrying a side dish or a dessert. One after another they deposited their offerings, until the long tables groaned under the weight of all of the food. My stomach growled as I hugged two elderly women who’d been attending the festivities for longer than I’d been on the squad.
“Come and get it!” Chief hollered, as he set two trays, heaped high with still-sizzling meat, on the tables next to the buns and condiments.
“You guys eat first,” Bill Reynolds, the owner of Lexington Hardware, said as he gestured to the tables. “The rest of us have the luxury of knowing we definitely won’t be sent on a call tonight.”
The firefighters crowded around the table and made quick work of the first grill offerings as the guests served themselves appetizers and drinks. Chief threw more meat on the grill, and someone cranked up the Christmas carols as the party shifted into full gear.
Somehow the holiday magic extended
to our station, and as the night wore on, things remained quiet. By midnight, the last of the guests had headed home to dream of the next day’s celebration, and we finished cleaning up the remains of the party. Tony’s mood had lifted a little, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught him telling the rookie that he’d done a moderately good job of keeping the drink tubs filled.
I smiled as I stored the rest of the leftovers in the fridge and then headed to the bunkroom to get some sleep. With any luck, we’d sleep through the night, and I’d be well rested for my family’s Christmas celebration in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Emily
I was sunning myself on a warm beach as Blake Gaston began slowly rubbing sunscreen up my leg. I tipped my head back and sighed as his strong fingers worked their way up the inside of my thighs, spreading the slick substance higher and higher.
“What the hell?” I spit, as something fuzzy lodged itself in my mouth. I sat up coughing and spitting as I slowly realized I’d been dreaming. I whipped around to find Howard perched on my pillow, licking his wet little paw and ignoring my outraged utterances. “You are a little bastard, you know?”
The air in the room was well below a comfortable temperature, so I pulled the comforter around me as I quickly crossed the room and turned on the space heater. I hated using them, but until my landlady fixed the furnace, I really had little other option than to do what I could to keep the place warm.
“Damn it, I told that woman I wanted the heat fixed before Christmas!” I muttered, as I slid my feet into my slippers and moved into the living room to flip on the heater before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.
I turned on the oven so I could make a pan of baked French toast, and soon the house was warm enough for me to drop the blanket. Howard padded out to the kitchen and sat at my feet mewing as I brewed my first cup of coffee.
“You think I’m going to feed your dream-wrecking ass, do you?” I asked, as I grabbed his bowl off the floor and filled it with dry food. He shot me a look that told me he was not the least bit amused before turning his attention to his breakfast.