Page 37 of This Thing of Ours

He was running toward a burning building, and she couldn’t stop the anxiety that was quickly spreading through her system. Knowing her parents were in the house was the only thing that had kept her from urgently calling him back.

Following Marco’s orders—well one part of them anyway—she sprinted to her room and called nine-one-one. No way in hell was she locking herself in the bathroom. She needed to know what was going on. But shewouldstay in the house until help arrived.

With clumsy fingers, she dialed then scurried to her bedroom window and looked out the blinds. Her bedroom faced the front of her house, and the window had a perfect view of the front of her parents’ home. Fire still licked up the side, originating from her father’s office, slowly infringing on the second story.

The operator answered, and Gabby stuttered her emergency and address into the phone, too worried to feel any kind of relief at being told help was on the way. Marco and her parents where in a burning house—help couldn’t come soon enough.

She belatedly realized she needed to call Nico. Hanging up on the operator who tried to keep her on the line, Gabby hit Nico’s speed-dial button.

It took four rings before he answered. “Now’s not the best time, polpetta.”

Nico’s usually controlled and smooth voice sounded tense, and she could hear Angelica crying—quite loudly—in the background. Under any other circumstance, Gabby would find her brother’s discomposure amusing. As it was, she had him beat on the stressed scale ten-to-one.

“The house is on fire.”

That got his full attention. “What?”

“I… I don’t know. There was a loud explosion. Dad’s office is on fire.” Then she said something that had been simmering in the back of her mind but had been too afraid to really think about. “I don’t know if he was in it.”

The crying had stopped and was replaced by the sound of an engine roaring. “Where are you?”

“At my house. I called nine-one-one. They’re on their way. Marco…” She paused to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. “Marco was here. He went to… go help.”

She searched the front of the house. Willed her eyes to see through the siding and drywall to what lay inside. Willed Marco and her parents to come out. She concentrated on the front door, barely daring to blink, her eyes growing hot and dry and semi losing focus.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, polpetta.”

“Hurry, Nico.” The line went dead. “Nico? Nico?” She knew he had phone calls to make but still resented that he’d left her adrift and once more alone with her worries.

The longer she waited by the window, the more active her imagination became until she’d almost convinced herself all in the house had been lost. She pushed those thoughts away, refusing to believe God would be cruel enough to rip Marco away from her just as they were starting.

Leaving her post by the window, she went to her dresser and opened her jewelry box that sat on top. Searching its contents, she pulled out the rosary her nonna had given her on her thirteenth birthday. She closed it in a tight fist, the sharp points of the small, golden cross digging into her palm, but the symbol of her faith was a reassuring presence. She sent a quick prayer up to Saint Joseph, the protector of families, begging him to watch over her loved ones.

She heard sirens in the distance, becoming increasingly louder until the sound was almost deafening. Fred, who’d been asleep on her bed, lifted his head and emitted a high-pitched puppy howl as the first of three fire trucks filled the scene. Firefighters in full gear clambered from the trucks, some gathering supplies, while others manned the hoses.

Locking Fred in the bedroom, she rushed from the house. The rough gravel that littered the driveway dug into the soles of her feet as she sprinted toward the fire trucks. Stupid not to have thought about putting on shoes, but she wasn’t taking the time to go back and fix her error.

One of the firefighters noticed her and approached. “Anyone inside?”

She had to speak loudly over all the commotion. “Yes. My parents and my… boyfriend.” She’d stammered over the title, boyfriend sounding too tame for how she felt. “I’m not sure how many others.”

The firefighter turned away, signaling something to his crew. The few not already manning hoses disappeared into the house. She saw Nico’s car in her periphery as it pulled up behind one of the fire engines and she raced to it, throwing herself into Nico’s arms as soon as he alighted.

Burying her face in his chest, she felt his large, strong hand envelop the back of her head. “I’m scared, Nico. No one’s come out yet.”

He gave her a squeeze. “Let me go see what’s going on.”

She released him and watched as he jogged toward the house. She followed at a slower pace not wanting to get in anyone’s way. A commotion at the front door had her picking up speed. A firefighter emerged, her mom clutching his arm.

Gabby swept her into a hug. “Are you okay? Where’s Dad and Marco?”

Dona was racked with a coughing fit before she could answer. A firefighter came over, handing her a bottle of water. She thanked the man and took a long pull. “I don’t know. I was in the bedroom when the explosion hit. I haven’t even seen your father.” A tear slid from the corner of her eye, and she swiped at it, leaving a black streak of soot behind.

She grabbed her mom’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

Gabby’s stomach was in knots as she and her mom waited, staring at the front door. She was put out of her misery a few minutes later when she caught sight of Marco. Soot smudged his face and lined the creases in his brow. His jacket was missing, and the right sleeve of his white dress shirt was tattered and singed but, other than that, he looked okay.

She flew to his side on shaky legs that barely supported her, crashing into him once he reached the bottom of the front steps. His left arm encircled her shoulders as hers wrapped around his waist.

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