by Mari Carr
“Don’t bother lying. We already know Lauren was here,” Ike said. He was a hell of a lot calmer than Jake at the moment, so it was probably smart to let him take the lead.
“Dammit.” Ernie rubbed the back of his neck. “She promised she wouldn’t tell anybody.”
“What the hell was she doing here?” Jake asked loudly…and stupidly. He knew exactly what she’d been doing. And who with.
Ernie gave them a sheepish grin, not even pretending to be remorseful. “She came by after a few drinks at the bar. Must have been a quiet night at Roxie’s Bar. She showed up here around midnight.”
“Was this the first time?” Ike was kicked back in his chair, looking way too relaxed. Meanwhile, Jake was a powder keg about to blow.
“Well…” Ernie shrugged. “Kind of damned if I do if I confess to that, right?”
“So you’re Lauren Roberts’ booty call.” Jake dropped back down into his chair.
What a fucking mess.
Ernie’s grin was genuine delight. He was a good-looking guy, in a buff, surfer-dude kind of way. He was a local and younger than Jake and Ike by about five years. No doubt Lauren had been the fantasy girl in Ernie’s wet dreams when he hit puberty. “I can think of worse things to be.”
“You know there’s no sex allowed in the bunk room,” Ike reminded him.
“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry about that. You’re not gonna write me up, are you?” he asked Jake.
Jake shook his head. “No. But next time, do the hookup at your place.”
“I live with my mom.” Ernie was clearly upset to lose the bunk room.
“This place isn’t your bachelor pad. Go to Lauren’s.”
“She lives with her folks too!”
Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s got a whole damn wing in that monstrosity to herself. Her dad won’t even know you’re there.”
Ernie shrugged, looking a bit miserable. “Maybe not, but she doesn’t want people to know about us. That’s why this place works so well. If anyone sees her leaving, they’ll just think she spent the night with you.”
And that was the problem. “No more, Ernie. I mean it. Lauren’s spent her last night in this station. Got it?”
Ernie sighed and nodded, then returned to the back room, making Jake feel like he just took his beloved puppy to the pound.
Jake rubbed his eyes wearily.
“You still look miserable,” Ike said once they were alone again.
“Yeah. I’m not sure what Hope wanted to talk about Sunday morning, but her rejection came before that.”
Ike studied his face for a moment, then a slow grin slid into place.
“You’re enjoying my suffering?” he asked.
“You’re in love with the kindergarten teacher.”
Ike didn’t ask a question, so Jake didn’t bother to acknowledge that statement. Didn’t need to. His friend already knew the truth.
“Doesn’t matter. It was over before she saw Lauren sneaking out of here the other morning. She’s looking for a different kind of guy.” Jake recalled Ike’s comment earlier. “She wants a grown-up, someone who’ll be a good dad to her son, not some well-hung firefighter with a shitty reputation when it comes to commitment.”
“You’re selling yourself short, Jake. You’re great with kids. You’ve got a steady job and while you seem to think divorce and infidelity are hereditary, I’m here to tell you they aren’t. You’re not going to make the same mistakes your parents made because, unlike them, you’ve learned from them.”
Even if Jake could be that man, the one his best friend saw, Hope didn’t see him that way. She’d taken all the stories about his reputation and tossed him into the same category as George’s father. In her eyes, Jake was just another faithless man who would let her and George down.
“Did the two of you sleep together?” Ike asked.
He nodded. “I thought Ada filled you in on everything.”
“No. Sounds like I got limited information and only from the one source. Hope was okay with…” Ike gestured toward Jake’s crotch.
Jake rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t a problem.”
Ike sighed and it was obvious he was still confused. Hell, so was he. Maybe if they pooled their resources. “Tell me the parts you know and I’ll fill in the blanks.”
“So the two of you slept together and everything was good,” Ike started.
Jake’s mind drifted back to the night she’d come back after running out, drenched from the sudden rainstorm. Despite his aching heart, the memory was too perfect. Hope had looked adorable, water dripping from the ends of her long red hair, her clothes plastered to her body in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
“Okay. You just answered that question.” Ike shook his head, his grin still in place. “Jesus, man. You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. Put the damn thing away.”
“It…God, Ike…it was the best night of my life. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“And then?”
“Then I woke up in an empty bed. I was afraid I’d hurt her…you know…physically, but when we spoke at the ball field, she swore that wasn’t it.” His eyes were lowered, his hands clenched in fists in his lap.
“Of course, it wasn’t. It was actually the other part of the story that I thought made sense until you just told me you didn’t sleep with Lauren.”
Jake raised his head to look at his friend. “What other part?”
“Have you been texting with Lauren? Making plans with her?”
Jake frowned and shook his head. Then he reached for his phone and a light went on. There were a handful of texts between them. Jake looked at the timestamp on them. The last two had come through the morning after his night with Hope. And the whole conversation looked pretty damning when read without context.
“Hope saw these?”
Ike reached for his phone, his eyebrows rising as he skimmed through them. “Apparently, she woke up the morning after,” Ike finger quoted the next part, “‘the greatest night of your life’ when the phone pinged. She thought it was her cell. Picked yours up by mistake and saw this. Dude. You realize it looks like you had a date with Lauren planned…sex too.”
Jake stood up again, all the pieces falling into place. “It wasn’t a date. Far from it. Shit. All of this has been one huge misunderstanding.”
Ike rose as well. “Yeah. I think it has been. So what are you going to do?”
“I’m in love with Hope Connor.” Jake had always avoided those words, certain he’d feel like a jackass saying them.
Ike slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s about time.”
Jake circled the room, looking for his keys.
“What are you doing?” Ike asked.
“Going to see her, to talk to her. To tell her how I feel.”
Ike chuckled and pointed to the clock that hung on the wall next to the big bay doors. “Settle down, Romeo. Hope is at work. I’m pretty sure you’d get her fired if you burst into the kindergarten classroom and swore your undying love in front of a room full of five-year-olds.”
While Ike’s argument made sense, Jake was in no mood to wait. “I have to talk to her, Ike. I can’t stand that she thinks—”
Before he could finish, the fire alarm sounded and he cursed. “Fuck.”
Ike rushed toward the rack that held their jackets and hats. Jake watched him without moving, his feet felt like they were sunk in mud, Hope the only thing he could focus on, think about.
Ernie ran out from the back. “Jake, we gotta hurry. It’s the school.”
“What school?!”
“Earhart Elementary,” Ernie explained. “It’s on fire!”
Chapter 11
Hope had just gotten everyone settled in their seats after story time when the fire alarm went off. She stifled a groan.
Typically, the principal, Ms. Kimbell, let the teachers know when she scheduled one. Particularly because it was like herding cats to get twenty-four kids out of the building in an organiz
ed fashion.
“Okay,” Hope said, raising her hands calmly when a couple of the girls squealed loudly and three boys bounced out of their chairs excitedly. “We had a fire drill last week. You remember what you’re supposed to do. Line up at the door. We’re going out the back door of the school, single file.”
She hurriedly went to her desk for a copy of the roster. She needed to call roll once they were all out.
“What about George?” Amy asked.
George had nicked his finger with the safety scissors—a feat only her son could manage—and asked to see Ada for a Band-Aid. Hope kept Band-Aids in the classroom, but George insisted Ada’s were better.
She knew “better” meant Ada would issue the first aid with a Tootsie Roll.
“He’ll be fine,” she assured Amy. “He’ll just go outside with Nurse Ada.”
“Smoke!” Tommy Phillips yelled, pointing at the closed door.
The word went through the classroom like a bomb exploding. The line they’d slowly started forming disintegrated, as chaos took control. Kids started running and screaming. Hope’s shiest little student, Alex, started crying.
Hope raised her hands. “Quiet!” she bellowed over the din. “Freeze.”
They all stopped mid-step and looked at her.
“My directions haven’t changed. Line up at the door.”
She had a rope with knots that she’d used the first week of school to teach them how to walk single file. She grabbed it from the storage bin next to her desk. Starting with the line leader, she unrolled it, instructing each child to hold onto a knot.
“No one lets go of the rope for any reason. Understand?”
All the heads bobbed up and down, and she could see fear on too many faces.
“We’re going to be fine. Just hold onto the rope and follow me. Okay. Let’s go.”
She felt the door before opening it. There wasn’t any heat, so she cracked it just a few inches and saw the first graders passing by, walking behind their teacher, Mrs. Jenkins.
Once they’d passed, Hope’s class filed out as well. She walked next to the line leader until they were directly behind the first graders. “Follow them, Tommy. I’m going to drift to the back to make sure everyone is still holding on to the rope.”
Tommy nodded, straightening up, taking his leadership responsibilities seriously.
The halls were filling up with smoke quite rapidly, though Hope couldn’t see any flames. A couple of the kids started coughing.
“We’re almost there,” she said encouragingly, hoping Ada had George—and Amy’s inhaler—with her. There was no way the little girl would get outside without suffering an asthma attack. They kept one in the room, but Hope had stupidly left it behind. She briefly considered running back for it once the kids were out.
Finally, they reached the back door. The elementary school building was U-shaped and as small as Bootlick. There was one classroom per grade along the outside of the building, which ensured they had lots of big windows, allowing in bright light. The cafeteria and library were in the center of the building.
Once they were outside, Hope guided her class to the swing set, their designated area during drills, and quickly called roll. Everyone was present and accounted for—except George. She looked around the playground, relieved when she spotted Ada heading her way, waving Amy’s inhaler.
Then she realized her friend was alone.
“Where’s George?” she asked when she reached them.
Ada frowned. “What do you mean? I sent him back to you a couple minutes before the alarm went off. He didn’t make it?”
“Shi-ugar.” Hope frantically searched the other groups of students, looking for George’s face. Several teachers saw her alarm, and Ada told them George was missing. Every adult started calling his name, but there was no response.
“Ada,” Hope said, panicking. “Stay with my class. I’m going to circle the building.”
Ada nodded as she took off, yelling George’s name. She’d looped the place twice before accepting the fact that he wasn’t outside. She glanced at the school. There was a significant amount of smoke coming through the back door they’d just exited. Adrenaline and fear took over as Hope sprinted for the building, Ada shouting her name, yelling for her to stop.
There was no way she was waiting outside for the fire trucks to arrive. Smoke inhalation was as dangerous as the actual fire, and there was too much smoke.
Hope sprinted down the hallway she’d just walked with her students, calling out George’s name between coughing fits. Dashing back to their classroom, she quickly scanned the area.
No George.
There was less smoke in the room, so she sucked in several deep breaths before heading back into the hallway.
She could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, but it didn’t calm her down. They were still too far away.
“George!” she yelled once she was back in the hallway, darting from room to room, throwing open the doors to look for him. Her eyes were starting to sting from the smoke, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She’d only gotten to the first, second, and third grade rooms before she heard her name.
“Hope!”
She spun around and saw Jake sprinting toward her. He was wearing his fire jacket and the large helmet he’d plunked down on Layla’s head during their field trip.
His expression was pure fury. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“I can’t find George,” she said, the words broken up with coughs. “He’s not outside.”
“You have to get out of here,” he said, gripping her upper arm.
She shook him off. “Not without George.”
Jake looked over his shoulder as Ike and Ernie approached, hoses in hand. “Head to the cafeteria,” he commanded. “Principal said fire started there. We’ve got a lost kid.”
Ike looked alarmed.
“George,” Jake quickly added. Hope understood Ike’s concern. His daughter, Clara, was in first grade.
Ike and Ernie dragged the hoses in the direction of the cafeteria as Jake took her hand, the two of them turning the front corner of the building, passing the entrance to the library.
“George!” Jake yelled, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
“George! Where are you?” Hope called out.
They were about to enter the library, when the door opened and George emerged.
“Mommy.”
Hope ran to him, bending over to pick him up in her arms. “George. George.” She covered his face with kisses, fully aware that it wasn’t the smoke causing the tears she cried anymore.
“Come on. You two have to get out of here.”
Jake led them to the closest exit, near the front of the building. The rest of the student body had moved to the back of the school to keep the kids out of the way of the firefighters.
Once they were out, she sucked in big gulps of fresh air, clinging to George tightly, despite his efforts to wriggle free.
“I have to go—” Jake started.
His walkie-talkie crackled, Ike’s voice coming through. “Jake?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, pressing the button on the side.
“Fire’s already out. Faulty oven. I’m afraid the tater tots are a total loss. Find George?”
“Yeah. I got him. I’ll be there in a minute,” Jake replied.
George’s struggles grew stronger, so Hope let him down.
“I waited for you, Jake.”
“What?” Jake asked, kneeling in front of her son, taking his helmet off and placing it on the ground.
“I waited for you in the library. I wanted to help you fight the fire.”
Jake looked up at her, frowning.
Her relief vanished, flashing to anger.
“You did what?” she asked aghast, not believing her ears. “Why in the hell-eck would you do something like that?”
George’s lower lip started to wobble in the face of her sudden fury.
Jake st
ood up and placed his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “Let me talk to him.”
She was struggling to breathe, fighting serious rage. It was probably better that Jake take over because she was shaking—the fear, adrenaline, and anger combining, making it hard for her to get control of herself.
She nodded once, and Jake released her, offering a comforting smile before kneeling in front of George again.
Before Jake could speak, George continued, “I thought if I helped you fight the fire, you’d like me again and come back to play ball some more.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered. She’d been so wrapped up in her own broken heart, she didn’t realize George had been suffering the same. She sucked in a harsh breath, one that rattled with a barely concealed sob.
The only thing that stopped her from picking George back up was Jake. He looked utterly devastated as he cupped her son’s face the same way he’d just done with hers. “God, George. How could you think that? I’ve never stopped liking you. You’re my cool little man with a killer arm and awesome taste in movies. We’re always going to be friends. Always. I swear it.”
“But you won’t come play anymore.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you. Your mom and I…well, we’ve got some things to work out.” Jake glanced up at her, his gaze one of pure determination. “And we’re going to do that in a minute.”
He was right. They needed to talk…for George’s sake if nothing else. She nodded her assent.
“But before that,” Jake said, “we’ve got to settle this fire thing right now. Do you remember what I told you to do whenever you heard the tornado drill?”
George nodded earnestly. “Be the man of the house and take care of Mommy. Go to the basement.”
“That’s right. You take care of your mommy, but at the same time, you take care of yourself. You never—never—stay inside a burning building. What should you have done when you heard that alarm?”
“Find Mommy and go outside with my friends.” George answered the question, but the sudden thickness in his voice and the tears in his eyes proved he understood he’d been wrong. George had been a people pleaser from the cradle. He hated to disappoint anyone, always crying whenever he’d done something naughty, apologizing quickly.