Saved by the Fireman

by Allie Pleiter

  “I don’t, either, but I’m pretty sure moving to Vermont isn’t the answer.”

  “But it could be. I’ve lost my job and Mima. I’m not in a good place to think smart right now.”

  “Have you talked to him about any of this?”

  “We were going to talk at dinner tonight, but he called me earlier and said he got pulled onto duty and we have to postpone. What if some time and distance is exactly what I need? The cottage will still be here in a year, and I’ll be stronger.”

  “And Jesse? What if he’s not here?”

  That would be okay, wouldn’t it? That would mean God had helped her shut a door she wasn’t strong enough to shut on her own. That was what she’d prayed for, what she’d come to understand as the opportunity this Vermont job offer presented. Only if that were true, where was that sense of assurance, that ability to leap forward that had always been her strength? “Then I’ll know it wasn’t supposed to work out.”

  Melba gave her a doubtful stare. “You need to talk to him, Charlotte. You need to tell him in person that you’re thinking about the Vermont offer. You need to ask him outright what’s going on between the two of you.”

  “I know. I know. We’ll have dinner tomorrow and I’ll do it then.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was a reason most firefighters hated the Fourth of July.

  It was as if the world was ganging up on him to make sure he didn’t have enough time to think through what was going on with Charlotte. Three false alarms, two parades, multiple firecracker-related incidents and four guys sick on the squad. As Jesse was fond of joking, “Some weeks it just didn’t pay to be a volunteer firefighter.” And that wasn’t even counting the two construction jobs that were stymied by the holiday and back-ordered supplies.

  He’d used the time away from Charlotte to go over that night at the talent show a dozen times in his head. It wasn’t as if he’d planned what he was going to do when he went into the audience, but the way Charlotte looked at him had practically pulled him offstage. He loved what his voice did to her eyes, the way his touch could raise color in her cheeks. They had such a strong connection that he felt just a bit out of control when he sang to her.

  That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. The leap in his gut made him pull back, made him resort to old tricks and play up to other women in the audience. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he’d shifted his attention to the high school teacher, had even guessed how Charlotte would react. It didn’t surprise him that the other women were as entertained as Charlotte was. It did stun him that he didn’t enjoy their blushing smiles. He’d walked back to the stage that night not wanting to sing the final chorus to anyone but Charlotte. That was not who Jesse Sykes was. He wasn’t ready to be so serious with Charlotte, or with any one woman right now.

  Still, he couldn’t stay away. The tone of her voice—the hurt and confusion when they’d spoken on the phone—echoed in his head no matter how hard he tried to shake it off. He told himself it was okay, maybe even a good thing, that things felt off-kilter when they’d talked. It was for the best that things had cooled off considerably when he was forced to postpone their date for Dellio’s until after the Fourth. This unpredictability was part of his life, part of why he couldn’t get serious with a woman. It was better that they’d have to take separate cars, because he was still wearing a beeper tonight, on call in case one of the other firefighters called in sick with whatever nasty bug was still making its way around the firehouse.

  If he got called in out of their dinner, the interruption would be a sore spot for Charlotte. Still, the firehouse and its demands were part of who he was. If anything were ever to work out between them, they’d have to figure this part out. He just didn’t know if that was possible. He still wanted to take this in small steps, and he just didn’t know if Charlotte was capable of small steps in anything.

  Even though it had been his idea, Jesse found Dellio’s an annoying opposite of their first dinner. It was a local favorite; a noisy, greasy, delicious diner—one of the few places Jesse felt produced burgers nearly as good as his own. And the French fries? They were legendary—everybody loved them.

  She was waiting in his favorite booth. That had to be a good sign. Despite all the complications, he still wanted tonight to go well, still wanted to move things forward and halt the backward slide they’d taken. Other women had never wandered continually into his thoughts like this—even on the job, where he used to be known for his single-minded focus.

  “Glad you finally made it.” She was trying to make a joke of it, to keep things light, but it was clear the long postponement had hit a nerve.

  “Yeah.” He surprised himself by hiding the beeper in his pocket and switching it to Vibrate so that she wouldn’t see he was on call. Cut her some slack, okay, God? He was equally surprised to feel the tiny prayer rise up out of him, hoping the God she spoke to so easily had enough kindness not to rub salt in the wound tonight. No calls—I’d consider it a favor. He switched subjects. “How’s Mo settling in?”

  “Generous of you to ask, considering. He’s doing okay. He hasn’t broken or shredded anything, if that’s what you mean, but there isn’t a lot to shred just yet. I can’t really hang curtains downstairs until the new windows get installed.”

  Of course she had to mention the back-ordered windows. “They’ll be here in ten days, they tell me. The two new doors are supposed to come in tomorrow, along with the closet fixtures, so I can get started on those as soon as things calm down.” She’d ordered top-of-the-line interior doors for the upstairs bedrooms, but the master bedroom closet was the thing that really stunned him. She’d moved one wall and taken a corner of the upstairs hallway to build out what she termed “a decent-sized closet.” Jesse would have considered something half that size “decent.” This was edging closer to decadent. And expensive. She’d gotten defensive when he made even the tiniest remark about the cost.

  “The sink’s working great, and everything in the bathroom is just perfect.” She was picking at the edge of her menu with one fingernail.

  “Glad to hear it. That tub looks just as good as a new one, don’t you think?” Come on, you’re supposed to be patching things up with the lady and the only conversation you can manage is plumbing fixtures?

  “It was a good idea. I’ve got a few more ideas I want to try out on you, but let’s order first.”

  Things eased up once the food came, but while he waited for her to bring up the subject of the talent-show night, she failed to raise the topic. Should he bring it up first? That didn’t feel right—it was mostly her issue; he should follow her lead.

  Instead, Charlotte said a quiet grace over the food—not as long as the prayer she’d said over their previous dinner, but it had the same effect on him. To be continually thankful like that—over something as mundane as burgers and fries—it got to him. When she added a plea for safety for Jesse and all the Gordon Falls Volunteer Fire Department, his heart did a startling twist in his chest as if the prayer had physically embedded itself there. Her voice took on a different quality, soft and lush, lively and yet peaceful at the same time. Jesse found himself easily and even gladly saying “Amen” to her blessing over the food.

  The effortlessness he was so drawn to in her cottage came back to their conversation bit by bit. Maybe things had settled on their own—and that was okay, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to make this more complicated than it already was. That smile—the one that managed to tumble his insides in a matter of seconds—came back. Still, it was easy to see she had a lot on her mind, and at some point they were going to talk about whatever went haywire between them the other night.

  “So.” He decided to press the issue when they were halfway through the heart-attack-on-a-plate hamburgers and they still hadn’t talked about whatever she needed to say. “What’s up?”

  �
�You mentioned your apartment lease was nearly up the other day.” He’d expected a deluge of emotional questions and concerns, not that. She fiddled nervously with a French fry, drawing artistic circles in the puddle of ketchup on her plate. What was going on?

  “I did,” he replied slowly, cautiously.

  “I don’t know if you’d find this at all appealing, but if I ended up taking a job offer out of town, would you consider renting the cottage for a year?”

  Where had that come from? And what did a question like that mean given everything that had gone on between them? “You’re leaving?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. What if I have to? It hasn’t...well, it hasn’t been as easy to find a new job as I’d hoped.”

  If this was about how he’d behaved at the talent show, the cottage was no place to take it out on him. Rent? Why? “Well, sure it’s a tough market out there, but...” It surprised him how much the thought of her leaving stung him.

  “I don’t want to spend my days marketing widgets just because it’s the only marketing job I can do from home. I want to work in the fiber industry. Textiles at the very least. There are only so many companies big enough to hire. I’ve gone a whole month with no serious prospects. Now there is one in Vermont that’s starting to sound promising and...well...I may need to go where the work is.”

  This seemed a hundred miles from the impulsive, passionate Charlotte of just a few days ago. He reminded himself that she’d wanted to slow things down. She’d put the brakes on their relationship, and he was happy about that. Wasn’t he? That didn’t explain the irrational annoyance climbing up his spine. He hadn’t wanted to get serious with anyone, least of all her, so he knew he shouldn’t be ticked that she was considering an out-of-town offer. It made no sense. “I suppose that makes sense,” he said, just because he couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

  “What do you think?”

  Was she asking him if he’d take the lease? Or was she looking for him to ask her to stay? How was he supposed to know the right answer to a question like that—especially after the other night? He sat back in the booth. “Are you leaving?” The words made her flinch just a bit—they’d come out sharper than he would have liked.

  “I just said I don’t know yet. I don’t want to go—” she gave the words an emphasis that made Jesse’s insides tumble in eight different directions “—but what if I don’t have a choice?”

  “You always have a choice, Charlotte. If you really want to stay here, then you can find a way to make it happen.” He looked at her. “Vermont? You don’t really strike me as the rural New England type.” He knew it wouldn’t sit well, but he had to ask anyway. “So now you’re sorry you bought the cottage?” If she were to walk away from it now, it would feel like rubbing salt on the wound she’d dealt him by buying it out from under him in the first place.

  “No. I’m not sorry. I’m not saying Vermont’s perfect, but it may have to do for a little while. And I don’t want to sell the cottage. I’ll want to come back to it. I love it and I want to keep going on the work on it. But I can’t stomach the idea of just anyone living there.”

  So I’m a convenient stand-in? “I’m not so sure that would work.” It was time she knew the full story. It was clear she needed to know. “Look, Charlotte, you should know that this hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk for me seeing you in that house. I’d been plotting to buy the cottage for months before you showed up.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. Maybe now she’d understand why this might be an especially touchy subject.

  “The reason why I have all those good ideas on what needs to be done is that I’ve been thinking about it all year. I just needed two more months to save up enough for the down payment. Not all of us get windfalls from loving grandmothers, you know.”

  * * *

  Windfalls from loving grandmothers? The edge in Jesse’s words cut off Charlotte’s breath. Did he realize how hurtful that sounded?

  “The home you were going to buy to launch your business was my cottage?” Suddenly everything that had transpired between them became suspicious, as if he’d been working some hidden agenda she wasn’t clever enough to notice. Was it so hard to believe he’d played to her just as he played to other women in the audience—that she was just a customer like any other—after hearing that fact?

  “Was. So you can see that renting it from you might be a bit of a touchy business for me?”

  “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?” It made no sense that he’d keep it from her unless there was some reason behind his silence.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Leave me just a little bit of pride in this, won’t you? I didn’t have any legal claim to the cottage—I just hadn’t moved fast enough when you struck like lightning. The gracious loser thing doesn’t come easily to me. I figured it’d just make things uncomfortable between us if I brought it up.”

  “So if you couldn’t be the owner, you’d get the owner as your biggest customer, is that it?” She began to think through every decision he’d encouraged or discouraged, wondering if his charming helpfulness was ever fully genuine.

  “No, that’s not it.” He planted his hands on the table, his eyes darkening at the accusation. “My offer to help was mostly on the level.”

  Well, that was a telling choice of words. “Mostly?”

  “Of course I saw it as a good business opportunity. Your house represented a big job for me, and I needed a big job. I won’t say I wasn’t ticked at first. I was. But you clearly needed help, and I knew that I was the best guy for the job. And it wasn’t long before it became more than business. You know that.” He tossed his napkin on the table, and for a moment she wondered if he’d simply stand up and walk out. He didn’t.

  Instead, he leaned in. “I’d procrastinated on my plans too long and it came back to bite me—that’s not a new lesson for me. This one just hurt a bit more than the others, and maybe that’s good.” His eyes took on that intense quality that always pulled her in, always made her heart skip. “Charlotte, you belong in that house. Every time I said that I meant it. You belong there. Why on earth are you leaving it? Leaving here?”

  At that moment, it struck her that she was waiting to hear “Why are you leaving me?” Only that was not what he said, and that omission said everything. “I don’t know that I’m leaving. I don’t want to leave. But if I can’t find a job here, I may not have a choice. I’m just trying to find a good solution for the property if I have to go.” She paused, struck again by the enormity of his omission. How could he spend so much time with her in that place and keep his original intentions from her? It felt so manipulative. All the intensity of his persuasion at dinner, his attentions at the talent show, they all felt fabricated now.

  “So that’s what I am? A useful solution?”

  She was not using him. She’d made the suggestion to be helpful. Yes, to both of them, but she hadn’t used him the way he’d used her. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know you wanted the cottage. And the reason I didn’t know was because you hid it from me.”

  “What, exactly, would have been the point of telling you? The only thing it would have done was made things awkward. As it was, things were pretty great.” He ran one hand down his face. “Well, to tell the truth, I don’t know what things are right now.” His phone vibrated loudly in his pocket. “I thought we had something going on at dinner the other night, and I thought we had fun at the talent show, but how it got all serious and complicated all of a sudden is beyond me.” His phone continued to go off and he grumbled while he fished it out.

  This whole thing was a mess. “Jesse...”

  Jesse practically threw the device on the table as the firehouse sirens began to wail through the night air. Charlotte realized it wasn’t his phone at all, but the firehouse beeper. “You’re on duty?”

  “I’m on call,
” he growled. “And now I have to go in.” He muttered a few unkind words under his breath as he slid out of the booth and tossed a pair of twenty-dollar bills on the table. “We’re going to have to finish this—whatever this is—another time.”

  Charlotte stared at her food, the delectable burger having lost all its appeal. Jesse couldn’t have picked a worse moment to be called into the firehouse. She tried to summon a prayer of sympathy for whoever’s home or business was facing the threat of fire, but self-pity overpowered her better nature. Right now, she selfishly despised the siren.

  Here, in a single moment, was every reason why she and Jesse wouldn’t work. They didn’t consider the same things important. He should have told her the minute they’d sat down that he was on call. He should have told her he’d been eyeing the cottage before she bought it.

  He should have told her he wanted her to stay in Gordon Falls.

  I got it all wrong, Mima. This isn’t what you would have wanted. You were looking to give me adventure and I turned it into foolishness. If I had only waited, thought some more about what I was doing, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  She fought the urge to do something, to move or talk or do anything to stem the discomfort now crawling under her skin as if her emotional state had taken on physical symptoms. Sit and think, don’t react, she told herself, but it didn’t help. She was a whole ball of reaction.

  Charlotte ate two more bites of her burger before giving up. She flagged the server and asked to have both meals boxed up, grateful most of the Dellio’s staff was familiar with the firehouse and used to people dashing out midmeal. She added a few more bills to cover the tip and left the restaurant, knowing she’d hold the sight of that half-empty booth with two meals in her head for a long, long time. One person with two plates of food—how she knew and detested that view.