Shared by the Firefighters: An MFM Firefighter Novella

by Eddie Cleveland

  6 | Ella

  “Annnnd, I think you’re just about all set. Ella, you’re so beautiful in all these pics.” Julianna admires her work. When she told me we would have a girl’s night, I never imagined we would be setting me up for a date on Tinder. If I’m honest, I didn’t know what to imagine at all. It’s been a long time since I’ve had real friends in my life.

  Empty bottles of wine litter the floor and I wobble on my shaky legs like a newborn colt, giggling foolishly at the pile of laundry with every single piece of clothing that hasn’t fit Sylvia over the years strewn across the bed. All her designer dresses, shoes, sweaters, and pants are lying there, finally being worn for the first time since they were bought.

  Julianna did a little fashion shoot on my phone to make it appear like I have normal profile pictures on Facebook. Of course, it would look really weird to have a bunch of shots of me wearing the exact same clothes, so she had me try on variations of everything in my drawers and pose around the house like she’s trying to get a cover shot for Vogue.

  It was fun, even if the images aren’t really real. Obviously the backgrounds in the photos aren’t really my house. The clothes aren’t mine either. But it was a fun way to spend a night, playing dress up and imagining the potential prince charming I’ll meet on my secret night out. That is, if I even go. It’s one thing to play pretend in here, with Julianna, but it’s another thing entirely to throw caution to the wind and actually go out on a real date.

  “Wow, I think this is the winner.” She turns the phone toward me to see what she’s talking about. “This should totally be your profile picture.” She taps the screen. I take in the picture of me in the dress Sylvia threw over my head the other day and a smile twists up over my lips. I want her to use that picture more than anything. I want to look like the woman Sylvia wishes she could be, wearing her dress, a dress she’ll never fit into and find a date that would make Raymond look like the sad, pathetic boy he is.

  “Use it.” My voice is eerily calm after how slurry my words have been all night.

  “Done and done.” Julianna flicks her fingers across the phone and sets everything up. “Now, to use Tinder, you just open the app,” she instructs me as she does it, “connect the profile, and, there you go. You’re all set up. Now, you go through the profiles of the guys and if you’re not interested, left swipe the screen.” She moves over to me on the bed and shows me what she means, flicking an elderly man off to the left.

  A new picture of a heavyset, balding man with glasses and a leering smile is up next. “Left swipe.” I giggle. Julianna flicks her wrist.

  “Ugh, why are you getting all the weirdos? Left swipe!” She flicks the next guy off the screen before I really have a chance to see him. However, the guy who pops up next makes me sit up tall and I grab the phone out of her hand before she has a chance to send him off into the ether.

  “Right swipe! Is that what I do? I want to meet him.” My voice is breathy as my heartbeat quickens. On my phone is a man with brown hair and gray eyes. His smile is natural and his body is so perfectly sculpted it’s making my own body react in ways I’ve only ever felt when I’ve been alone late at night and let my fingers slip under the edge of my panties, down between my legs.

  “Yes.” Julianna laughs at how frantic I am and I flick my twitchy finger across the screen, holding my breath.

  “Now what?” I raise my eyebrows as I wait for something, anything, to happen.

  “Now you keep going through the profiles and if he wants to meet up with you, you’ll get a match,” she answers matter-of-factly.

  Well, not exactly exciting or magical. Way to kill the buzz. I check the screen, disappointed that there isn’t some way to make him find me faster.

  “Uh, what’s the orange circle for? Oh”—I take a closer look—“wait a sec, I think he right swiped me too.” Excitement bubbles up inside as I bounce on the bed.

  “Really? Talk to him, set up a date.”

  Reality brings this fantasy to a grinding halt. “I can’t meet up with him. When am I going to go? Where would I even see him? My boss is back in two days.” I start making excuses.

  “Go to the fair, see if he can meet you there tomorrow. It’s just one night of magic, right? Just so you can experience some of this romance.” She pats the Harlequin on my nightstand. “The fair is close to here and it’s super fun. Come on,” she pleads with me, “I didn’t set you all up so you could get cold feet at the last second. Just give it a shot.” She nudges me in the ribs.

  I look at Julianna and then back at the screen. I would like to see what it’s like to go out and have some fun for once. And he is easy on the eyes. I let my thumbs hover over the screen for a second and then start typing. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” I answer her and Julianna cheers like her team just won the championship.

  Then I realize I have nothing to wear to go out. I don’t have fancy clothes. I don’t have anything. Self-doubt creeps up inside me. I stop texting and my shoulders slump over.

  “What’s wrong now?” Julianna frowns at me.

  “I don’t have any proper clothes,” I protest.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” She nods to the pile of designer labels on the bed.

  My eyes grow wide. “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

  “Why not? You said yourself your boss is out of town. She’ll never know. It’s just one night. Pick an outfit and go. Put it back when you’re done. She’ll never have a clue.” Julianna puts her hand on my shoulder.

  “Well, it is just one night.” I let myself get persuaded. “And she is in San Diego right now.” I build up on Julianna’s logic.

  “Exactly. No more excuses. Set it up and have some fun for once.” She smiles.

  “You’re right.” I nod and go back to texting the man I swiped right on: Jackson. “It’s about time I had a night of my own.”

  7 | Jackson

  “Oh, you look so handsome!” Mom brushes her hands over my shoulders and smiles proudly. The lines etched into her skin fold deep as she picks a tiny speck of fluff free from my arm.

  “You don’t think it’s too dressy?” I take stock of the navy blue, button-down shirt uncertainly. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. It’s been an even longer time since I’ve gone to the county fair. I’ve been second-guessing my decisions about every aspect of this date all day. You’d think I was nervous or something.

  “Not at all, you’re handsome. Doesn’t Daddy look wonderful, Chloe?” Mom calls over to my daughter, who is in the middle of kicking Ryan’s ass at a game of Candyland.

  “You’re okay,” she answers slowly, giving me a squinty, critical eye. “Oh, Daddy, don’t go yet. I have just the perfect thing for you to look bee-you-tiful!”

  Before I have a chance to answer, she leaps from the chair and thumps down the hall, disappearing into her room. Seconds later, she’s rushing back up toward me, grinning so wide her smile takes up the entire lower half of her face while she holds one hand behind her back.

  “Here you go, Daddy.” She thrusts out her hand at me, confident that she has the secret ingredient that will make this night magic in her palm.

  I can’t help but laugh. Mom and Ryan look over and burst out into a fit of loud laughter. Chloe’s holding out her favorite princess tiara for me in all of its sparkly, pink glory.

  “Now that is exactly what you need. Trust me, man, I’ve seen this in action and no woman can resist Princess Jackson.” He laughs.

  “No, he’s Princess Sophia.” Chloe pouts a little at the laughter and keeps holding out the gift insistently. “Take it, Daddy.” She grins.

  When a four-year-old hands you her favorite tiara for your date night, you take it. I gently place it on top of my neatly combed hair and my heart almost bursts when I see the sparkle of pride and happiness in my daughter’s eyes.

  “See”—she points her chunky finger up at my head—“now you’re ready to go.”

  “I’ve gotta get a picture of this.” Ryan w
hips out his cell phone and grabs a quick shot before I have a chance to react. I shrug it off. I don’t care if I look silly. Obviously I’ll take it off in the car, but right now the joy it brings Chloe is worth a dumb picture.

  “Okay, I’m all set now. Thanks, Chloe.” I lift her from the ground and swing her around in a hug as she squeals happily. “Now, I want you to be a good girl for Nana and Ryan, okay? Go to bed properly and I’ll see you in the morning.” I give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I will,” she answers solemnly, “as long as Ryan does his magic trick again.”

  “You strike a hard bargain, kid.” Ryan smirks. “I think we can work that out, though.”

  I put Chloe back down and she runs over to finish the Candyland game.

  “Bye Daddy.” She doesn’t even look over her shoulder as she dismisses me for the night. It’s not like this is the first time she’s been babysat by my mother. With my job in security, she’s had many evenings where Mom has been the one to tuck her into bed. However, I thought she might be a bit nervous about having Ryan here too. As I gaze over at their rousing board game, I know I have nothing to worry about.

  Who knows, maybe this will all work out and I’ll have a great night.

  “Okay, get going. I don’t want you to leave the young lady waiting.” Mom urges me to get moving.

  “I’m going, don’t worry.” I give her a half hug with one arm as I wave goodbye with the other. “See you later, Chloe. And be good.”

  “She will be,” Ryan answers, waving me off.

  “I wasn’t talking to her. You behave yourself too.” I give Ryan a pointed stare and then nod down at my mom, making it perfectly clear that she’s off-limits. He shakes his head, smiling.

  “I will.” He laughs.

  I take one last look at what could be a Norman Rockwell painting of my family. My mother, a man I chose to be my brother, and the daughter who found me. It’s just perfect. I head out to the car, taking a quick glimpse in the rear-view mirror as I turn the key in the ignition. The tiara is still resting on my head. Tugging it off, I toss it over onto the passenger seat and chuckle. That could’ve been an interesting icebreaker. Now I’m ready to find out if this is the perfect beginning to a perfect night, or if this is the beginning of a perfect disaster.

  8 | Ella

  I twist my ring around my finger, lifting it up to the tip before sliding it back down again as I stare out into the parking lot beside the main entrance. There’s a distinctive nip of autumn in the air as a breeze fragrant with cotton candy and French fries swirls up around me. I pull the Chanel sweater closed and search the rowdy crowd for a face I’ve only ever seen on Tinder.

  I love the brisk, fresh air in the fall. It’s such a clear reminder that the long and hazy days of summer are over and the bitter cold days of winter are just ahead. I could do without the winter part, if I’m honest, but autumn has such a nostalgia about it. It just transports your thoughts to other times, other places. Like when my mother was still alive and the world wasn’t so bleak. I can remember her making us natilla on the weekends when we had our huge family dinners. The mixture of all the spices and sweetness wasn’t all that different than the scents whipping around me now.

  This ring, with its simple gold band and row of tiny diamonds encrusting it, once rested on her finger. It was her wedding band. I remember admiring it for hours as a young child, asking her tons of questions about their wedding and creating a fairy-tale in my mind. When she was taken from me, my father gave me her ring. He told me that it was always her wish to give it to me one day, although not under such horrific circumstances. My mind slips back to the night I was shipped away.

  “Take this, Ella. Your mother, she wanted you to have it.” Tears lined his eyes as he handed me the humble band.

  “No, you should keep it,” I argued in hushed whispers. The truth was, even though the ring was tiny, it carried a heavy weight. Knowing that it was on my mother’s hand when she died, it was too much for me.

  “Please, Ella.” He looked over his shoulder and pleaded with me urgently. “Someday, when you and I meet again, you can give it back to me, okay? But for now, hold onto it. Keep it close to your heart. One day you’ll be happy you have something that meant so much to her.” He dropped the ring in my palm and shut my fingers tight over it before lifting me into the back of the truck and disappearing into the night.

  I found out after I crossed the border that the men who killed my family found my father. They eventually ended his life too, leaving his almost unrecognizable body in the street outside our house like a head on a pike. A grim warning to anyone else who would consider crossing the Úsuga Clan.

  The ring has given me a constant connection to my mother over the years. A glimmer of light shines off the modest diamonds. The same ones I stared at as a child on her finger, and feel closer to her. My father was right. I’m happy I have her ring. After I lost everything else, I still have this symbol of love that once lay on her hand.

  Blinking away my tears, I tug my phone out of my bag, checking the time again and any missed messages. It’s not that he’s that late. Only ten minutes so far, but I’m already nervous that I’ve made a huge mistake by coming out here. This is so unlike me. In six years, I’ve never snuck around behind Sylvia’s back for anything. I haven’t even snuck any of the good food that she sets aside for her and Raymond in the fridge. I’ve obeyed every rule. I’ve never made a fuss or given her any reason to get rid of me. And now what am I doing? Going out on a date with a man I don’t know in clothes that aren’t mine, pretending to be someone I’m not just by how I’m dressed.

  This is a mistake. I should leave.

  “Hey, chiquita! Wanna check out my banana?” A young, decent looking man walks up to me with his hand on his crotch. For a brief second I blink and hope I’m not looking at Jackson. From a distance, it’s hard to see the details of his face. Plus, people put up pictures of themselves on the Internet all the time that aren’t exactly accurate. I’m relieved to see it’s not him as he approaches, but I’m so stunned by his blatant rudeness that my cheeks flush and I avert my gaze to the ground, not wanting to say anything to encourage him.

  “I bet you’d love to have a big ol’ banana in your mouth, wouldn’t ya?” His breath billows over me and makes my stomach lurch. Clearly he’s been drinking. His eyes are bleary and his words reek of a mixture of alcohols.

  “Sir, I’m waiting for my friend.” I try to step back, but I thump into someone and get even more flustered. I turn around and am pressed up tight to a tall, hard-bodied man with gun-metal gray eyes that are intensely staring down the drunken jerk at my back.

  It’s Jackson. I’ve never been so happy to see someone and so nervous at the same time. He pulls me into him, wrapping his arm around me and stepping me over to his side. His thick forearm falls so naturally around my waist. Like the curve of my hip was designed just for him.

  “I’m sorry, what did you just say to my girl?” He snarls at the drunken idiot like he might just jump on him and tear his throat out with his teeth.

  “Hey, man, I, uh, I was just playing.” The walking liquor cabinet holds up his hands like he’s ready to go off with the police peacefully and he slowly steps back away from us.

  “Get out of here and don’t let me see you around her again.” Jackson juts out his jaw, narrowing his eyes.

  The drunken banana man twists on his heel and takes off. Why are the biggest talkers always the biggest cowards?

  Gratitude swells up inside me as my heartbeat thuds out of control in my chest. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “I know that’s not the best way to introduce myself. Sorry about that. I just hate that crap. I was never a big fan of guys like that, but now that I have a daughter, it makes me crazy,” he explains as he drops his arm from my waist.

  “Don’t apologize.” I find myself wishing he’d pull me back in close. That he’d keep holding me tight against him, protectively showing the world he’s not afra
id to take on anyone to keep me safe.

  “I’m Jackson.” His eyes twinkle as he holds out his hand.

  “Ella.” I shake it with a smile. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe this is the magical night I’ve been craving for all these years.

  9 | Jackson

  I get lost in the golden warmth of her brown eyes, the gently sun-kissed honey hue of her skin, her long mahogany locks, and her thick, perfect pout. I blink hard and force myself to stop staring, only to realize I’ve been shaking her hand for an uncomfortably long time. I let go and drop mine by my side, nervous and uncertain about my game, like a kid who finally had the training wheels removed from his bike.

  “How about we go inside? Do you like going on any of the rides?” I lead her up to the ticket counter and buy us a couple of bracelets.

  “I’m not sure.” Her eyebrows scrunch together.

  “Haven’t you ever gone to the fair before?” I watch as she fidgets with her ring and looks around at the overwhelming collage of people yelling from game booths. She stares at the flashing lights as adrenaline-fueled screams coming from the rides assault our ears. It’s easy to get intimidated by the bustling crowd that’s buzzing around from spot to spot like bees collecting nectar from the last flowers of the season.

  “Uh, me? Yes, yes, of course. Just, um, I haven’t been to one since I was a little kid. Back then I just went on the merry-go-round.” She stands a little taller, throwing back her shoulders.

  “Oh, well, normally I love the fast, crazy ones.” I point to a rickety zipper whipping people around inside as blasting music competes with the shrieks inside. “But, maybe we’ll just stick to stuff where we can actually talk. Oh, first, though, how about I win you a prize?”

  I scan over the maze of people shuffling around until I see the games where you can win huge stuffed animals for shooting targets. Perfect. This will be an awesome way to break the ice.