by T. K. Chapin
“Watch out for that tree,” Cole said over the radio.
“I see it,” I replied.
“Copy.”
Keeping my eyes bouncing between the two different groups of people and Kane, I felt the sweat bead on my forehead under my helmet. I said a prayer for all involved. This job was the best job in the world most days, but there were a few moments when I had wished I’d never become a firefighter. The stress of it all weighed heavily on my conscience. Lives were sometimes put into my hands more times in a week than most people have in a lifetime. It felt like at least an hour, but it only took a few minutes to get Kane to the first family. He pulled them out of the structure and into the bucket. We got them safely lowered down to the ground. Paramedics were standing by as the family stepped out onto the grass. Hugs and tears flowed between the family members as they held each other closely. I spotted who I presumed was the father of the teenage girl in the group. He held her close to his chest as he wept and kissed her head.
Turning my thoughts back to the fire at hand, I sent Kane on his way over to the man and woman who were next to be rescued. Thankfully, the ground crew had been neutralizing much of the blaze and kept it from jumping to the other apartment buildings on both sides of the one that was on fire. Kane snagged the last two people we needed to rescue without difficulties, and we brought them down to safety. He made eye contact with me as he stepped off the bucket and gave me a nod.
I smiled. Kane was a good kid, and probably the youngest guy that I considered a friend. He had been a little lost in his early years with girls and partying, but since he’d made his recommitment to Christ, he was a different man altogether.
“Good job, Freeman,” Cole radioed.
“You mean good job, McCormick. He did all the work,” I radioed as I smiled over at Kane.
“Yeah. Team effort,” Cole said. “Let’s hurry up with the rest of this fire so we can get some shuteye before the sun’s up in a few hours.”
CHAPTER 3
Arriving home the next morning, I walked into my house and could hear the sound of music blaring from the upstairs bathroom. Stopping at the banister, I glanced up the stairs and toward the bathroom. I could see through the cracked door that Jasmine was blow drying her hair and brushing it out while rocking out to her weird music. She must have sensed me, because the next moment she paused and kicked the door shut. Jasmine’s coldness toward her mother and me was not the rosy picture I had envisioned some years ago.
Walking through the hallway and into the living room, I found Denise sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand while she read over her women’s daily devotional. Upon my entering the room, she set the devotional and coffee down on the end table to greet me. Getting up, she strolled across the carpet and up to me with a smile. “How was your shift?” she asked, touching my arm and kissing my cheek.
Setting my Bible down on the loveseat next to where I was standing, I shrugged and said, “It was good.” Embracing Denise in a hug, I sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jasmine.”
Denise pulled away from our embrace and said, “It’s my fault she’s cranky today.”
“How come? Something happen?” I asked, walking over to the couch to sit down.
Denise headed into the kitchen as she replied, “She wanted to bring a boy over for dinner tonight. I told her I didn’t think that was a good idea.” Denise grabbed a cup from the cupboard.
Looking over at Denise from the couch, I said, “A new guy?”
Denise poured my coffee and returned to the living room. “Yeah. She seems love-struck.” She handed me the coffee and sat down next to me.
Mulling it over in my mind, I was thankful that Jasmine respected us enough to bring him over instead of sneaking around. She might have been a little rough around the edges, but she still respected our rules. “She’s eighteen now, Denise. We aren’t going to be able to dictate her life for much longer. She’ll be in college soon. Maybe we should have him come over for dinner. I’d rather have that than her sneaking around to see the boy or lying about going to a friend’s house to hang out with him.”
“Why would she do that? She respects us,” she said, picking up her coffee and taking a drink.
“I don’t know. I feel this is right thing to do, Denise. We don’t want her resentment to build any more than it has already.”
Denise sighed and glanced toward the hallway that led to the stairwell. “Okay. We’ll have him over for dinner.”
Taking a sip of my coffee, I said, “Had to use the aerial ladder yesterday on a call. Well, this morning.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s rare. Was that the Alpine fire on Grant?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “There were two families trapped.”
“Wow. The news said it started with a kid playing with a lighter?”
I nodded. “Crazy how fires start sometimes.”
She smiled and reached a hand behind my back. She began to rub in a circular motion as she continued, “I’m proud of you working so hard at that job every day and providing for us.”
“I know,” I replied with a smile. “Thank you.” My wife was the biggest blessing in my life. She was a woman like none other, and I thanked God for her daily. With raising Jasmine, work and even with my faith in God, Denise was always there to help sharpen me into the man of God I was meant to be. There were times in our marriage that were challenging, but those trials and pains only forced me to grow closer to God, and in turn, her.
Jasmine came down the stairs a few minutes later. She hurried through the hallway and headed into the kitchen when Denise caught her attention.
“Your father would like for your new friend to join us for dinner,” Denise said.
Jasmine smiled and turned to come over and into the living room. “Really?”
“Yes, dear,” I said. “Any boy my daughter has a fondness for, I want to meet.”
“His name is Austin, and he’s not a boy. He’s a man,” Jasmine replied.
My eyebrows furrowed immediately. “Oh?”
She came over and sat down next to me. She was still excited and her eyes were filled with hope as she looked at me. “He’s twenty and he works down at Gordon’s.”
“The electronic store?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“What does he do there?”
“He unloads trucks. He’s been doing that for over a year.”
“Oh, wow. Cool.”
“Way.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
She smiled again and then looked over at her mom. “You both will love him.”
“I’m sure we will,” Denise said. Looking over at me, Denise continued, “You should make him your Chicken Alfredo.”
“I can do that,” I replied as I stood up and gave them both a nod. “I’m going to hit the shower and freshen up. This morning’s workout was sweaty.”
“Ew,” Jasmine replied, standing up. “I’m going to school. Love you, Dad.” She glanced over at Denise. “Love you, Mom.”
Wrapping an arm around her, I hugged her and kissed the side of her head. “I love you, Princess.”
Jasmine pushed me back, laughing. “C’mon, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore!” She began to leave. “See you guys later.”
As she left through the hallway, I couldn’t help but smile. My little girl was growing up, and I knew the years preceding were going to be some of the most important years of her life. The choices she makes now are going to be affecting her life forever.
Denise got up and came over to me. “Wonder if she still plans to move across the country if she likes this guy?”
I shrugged. “She might be getting older, but she’s probably not thinking a lot of things through like that. But hey, maybe there’s hope she’ll stay.”
“Maybe . . .”
Hearing the worry in her voice, I looked into her eyes. “She’ll be okay, no matter what. I promise.”
She nodded and smiled. “Go ge
t in that shower. You stink.”
I let out a laugh and smelled my left armpit. “It isn’t that bad.”
She playfully pushed my shoulder and said, “Gross! I was kidding!”
Later that afternoon, I was in the kitchen dicing up the chicken I needed for the Alfredo that night when my cellphone rang. It was the Chief, Paul Jensen.
“Hello, sir,” I answered the phone as I turned off the faucet from washing my hands.
“Freeman,” he said. His voice sounded a bit broken.
I dried my hands on the hand towel and draped it over my shoulder as I turned around and leaned against the counter. “What’s going on?”
The chief let out a long, drawn out sigh that sent my worry soaring. “I’m going in for open heart surgery next Tuesday.”
My eyes widened and my chest felt like it was tightening as the words left his lips. I folded my arms together and brought my balled fist up to my lip. I knew he didn’t know Jesus, and I had tried to speak with him about it years ago. He shot it down then because of how he’d watched his best friend’s so-called ‘Christian’ father beat up his step-mom when he was a kid. Paul told me it was his only Christian influence and he didn’t want anything to do with a religion that allowed that kind of person in. Knowing I had to proceed with caution, I asked, “Can we say a prayer for you?”
“I’d like that,” he said. One of the toughest guys I had ever known in my life, I had only seen him upset maybe once—when we’d lost our captain, Thomas Sherwood.
I bowed my head and began to pray. “Dear Heavenly and eternal Father in heaven. We come to the altar at which you sit and pray that you watch over Paul as he goes in for his operation next week. In the days leading up to it, I pray you show him the comfort and peace that only You can provide. Help his mind to stay calm and give peace to him and his family during this time. Thank you for sending your Son to die on a cross and rising the third day so that we can have this type of open communication with you through prayer. Thank you, Lord, for everything in our lives. We pray these things in your heavenly and precious name, Amen.”
As I opened my eyes and lifted my head, I could hear Paul’s voice soften as he spoke. It sounded much more relaxed. “Thanks, Freeman. I appreciate it. I’m starting to think more about this God of yours.”
I smiled. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You, Taylor, Alderman and even the kid seem different than the rest at the station. You have a different way about ya’ll that makes me wonder if I might be wrong about Christians. My wife has been a Christian for years, but she never really lived it out in front of me like you guys have.”
“We’re not perfect, but we do have something that others don’t—hope.”
The chief’s wife called out to him. He covered the phone and began talking to her. A moment later, he came back to our conversation and said, “I have to go, but I want to catch a cup of coffee and learn more about the version of God you believe in.”
“Sounds like a great idea, sir.” My smile was from ear to ear upon hearing Paul talk that way. It didn’t bother me that it had to come at a time where he was broken and hurt. That was the best type of redemption in my mind. Jesus didn’t come to help the healthy, but rather the unhealthy.
“It’ll be sometime after my surgery. And hey, just so you know, I haven’t told the other guys at the station. Keep all this on the down low.” I was a little worried that he was putting off the conversation to sometime after the surgery. Paul, like many of the people I had met along life’s journey, felt he had more time. The problem with time is that we never know how much of it we have. My history with Paul stretched beyond Station 9. Back at my old station, he had come over to talk to the station’s chief and found me in the parking lot admiring his ’69 Chevy. We became instant friends after that conversation fifteen years ago.
After hanging up with the chief, I continued to prepare the meal for that night’s dinner with a smile on my face and joy in my heart. Good ol’ Jensen was finally coming around to the idea of God. What a wondrous day it was.
CHAPTER 4
Dinner was just about done when the doorbell rang. Jasmine’s eyes lit up at the sound. Leaping from her seat at the kitchen table, she darted down the hallway toward the front door.
Denise smiled as she brought the Alfredo saucepan over to me and set it down by the noodles. As she poured the sauce, she said, “Can you set the oven for 350 degrees? My brownies need to go in.”
“Sure, honey,” I replied as I stirred the sauce in with a wooden spoon. Jasmine was talking a hundred words a second as she and Austin came into the kitchen. “Grab a chair, kids, dinner will be done shortly,” I said smiling over at the both of them after a brief introduction.
“Okay, Dad,” Jasmine replied. I turned back to the stove and finished stirring in the sauce and chicken. The aroma lifting from the Alfredo filled the air.
“That smells good, Mr. Freeman,” Austin said as he took a seat at the table.
“It’s a family favorite.”
“The guys down at the fire station are absolutely crazy about it,” Denise added.
“Station?”
“My dad’s a firefighter,” Jasmine said.
I nodded as I placed the lid over the pot of chicken Alfredo and then preheated the oven for Denise’s brownies.
“Cool. So you run into burning buildings and whatnot?” Austin asked.
“Not exactly. I’m an engineer. I mostly drive the truck. There have been a few times I’ve helped elsewhere, but primarily I drive.”
“That’s cool, Mr. Freeman.”
“You can call me Micah,” I said, coming over to him to shake his hand. His grip was what you would expect from a twenty-year-old that was nervous about meeting parents—clammy and weak.
“All right . . . Micah,” he replied, pulling his hand back from our shake.
The first look-over of the kid sat okay with me. His pants were around his waist instead of his butt, he had a clean haircut and no overgrowth of facial hair. Kid even had a job, according to Jasmine.
Denise got up a few moments later and put her pan of brownies into the oven. Then she came over to the table with the pot of chicken Alfredo.
Seeing the French bread still over on the counter, I jumped at the opportunity to help Denise. “Need me to grab the French bread?”
“That’s okay. I got it, dear,” she replied. She went back into the kitchen and retrieved the bread along with plates, napkins and silverware.
Once we were all situated at the table and had dished up our food, we bowed our heads to pray.
I lead the prayer. “God, please bless this food for our bodies. Please bless the cooks that have prepared it and help us to enjoy this time getting to know Austin more. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”
Lifting our heads, we all began to eat. Ten minutes into the meal, I thought of something to ask the boy. Finishing my bite, I wiped my mouth with the red cloth napkin that was in my lap and set it down on the table. Looking over at Austin and Jasmine, I looked at Austin and asked, “So you work at Gordon’s, Jasmine said?”
He nodded as he scooped another bite up into his mouth.
“What’s the plan when Jasmine goes to college in New Jersey?” I asked.
“Micah . . .” Denise scolded me. “Just let the boy eat!”
“Why would you bring that up?” Jasmine asked, setting her fork down.
My eyebrows raised as concern swept across me. “It’s a real thing that you guys should be thinking about, right? The school year is about done, and New Jersey is pretty far away.”
Austin looked over at Jasmine and then at me and Denise. In a soft and respectful tone, he said, “Sir. Ma’am. . . it’s a very good question. I haven’t told Jasmine yet, but I’ve already spoken with Gordon’s, and they said I could transfer to New Jersey if I needed to. In fact, there’s a store near Jasmine’s college that needs a night crew manager for stocking.”
Fear surged through my veins as I saw glimpses of w
hat I felt was the doomed future, living together off-campus and no way to help her escape if something went wrong with Austin. My face must have reflected the fear I felt, for in the next moment Denise grabbed my hand that was sitting on the table, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“That’s awfully nice of them to offer that,” Denise said, forcefully trying to break Jasmine and Austin’s attention from me.
Jasmine nodded slowly and said, “It’s going to be perfect for us.”
My eyebrows furrowed and my stomach began to feel like it was twisting. “Please excuse me. I need to use the restroom,” I said as I wiped my mouth with my napkin and set it down on the table.
The looks from both of my girls were ones of suspicion, but I kept my quiet as I left the room and headed upstairs. I needed time with God. There was no way I could handle the realities of my daughter being so far away and alone with a boy.
As I walked past the bathroom, I felt bad for lying to them, but the truth wasn’t one they wanted to hear. Walking into my room, I shut the door behind me and instantly began to feel better as the door clicked shut. Just a few moments alone were all I needed. Getting out of the situation without losing my temper was an achievement in itself. There wasn’t much in life that could steal my joy away from me, but my princess making bad choices for her life was at the top of the list.
Lying down on the bed, I crossed my arms together and stared at the ceiling. I began to pray. I prayed for my daughter, my wife and for the future that was coming up fast. Without any other children in the home after Jasmine leaves and retirement just around the corner in another year, my mind often drifted to a singular question. What on earth was I going to do with all my time? I took all my anxieties and worry to God though. He was far better at handling it than I was. Committing my stresses and my newfound worry to the Lord, I finished out the prayer.
Sitting up, I stared at the doorknob for a moment as I contemplated returning to the dinner table. I didn’t want to go back down there, but I knew I needed to. Denise was most likely down there scrambling for reasons why I hadn’t come back down, and I felt the need to apologize. Taking a deep breath in and letting it escape through my lips, I glanced up at the ceiling once more.