I’m going to be trying a new recipe, something from my Brazilian roots, which are pretty far away, granted, but are still something I want to be in touch with. I’m going to try my great grandma’s recipe for feijoada, which is a recipe I had to drag out of my mother with the promise that I would come visit soon.Soonis absolutely relative, though, of course.

I get back home and get the groceries put away and start preparing dinner. It’s a dish that does better when it gets time to sit and simmer so I want to get it going as soon as possible. I kind of laugh to think that I have this side of my family and I also have a Germanic side. Both sides together really spell disaster for the intestinal tract.

I’m bopping along quite nicely when the doorbell rings. I practically scream.

“Who the fuck can that be?”

I try to pull myself together and go to answer the door.

It may seem strange that a knock on the door could make me jumpy, but this house is fairly secluded. It sits on a big tract of woodsy land, back from a lot of the other houses in the neighborhood. So, visitors are scarce.

I swing the door open and see Tina standing there. “Oh, um, were you getting the boys today? It’s a school day and Daniel didn’t say anything about it.”

She shakes her head and then, reaches out and takes my hand. “Oh honey, I need you to come with me.”

“Why? What’s happening? I've got dinner going and ...”

“It’s Daniel.”

And just like that, every nightmare I’ve ever had since getting involved with a firefighter comes true in that one statement. A million scenarios fill my mind. “Is he okay?”

“Just get your dinner put away and we need to go.”

“Where?”

“He’s in the hospital, Sam. I need to get back to him, but I knew you’d want to know.”

She looks distracted, like she hasn’t slept at all, and so I can’t really yell at her for being so vague, but I really do want to shake her. If you’re going to randomly show up with bad news, then you’d better be coherent. I set all that aside, though, and try tohold onto my own sanity and overwhelming fear. “Uh, okay, let me do that and get my things. I’ll go back with you.”

I know better than to pepper her with questions on the drive over. My heart is racing and I try to tell myself that it’s all going to be a huge misunderstanding and that she just came to get me because he was there with a bug bite and forgot his wallet with his insurance card.

I know better. I know that he was fighting a pretty big fire last he messaged. He said they were on their way to some abandoned property and that they were always huge messes and how he wished people weren’t such idiots.

Fucking idiots!

We get to the hospital and Tina takes me right to his room. I wonder briefly how long it’s been since he was brought here and how long she’s been with him before deciding I should be made aware.

But all thoughts, angry, nervous, sad, uncertain, just go out the window when I see him in that bed.

Daniel is a big man, but in that hospital bed with all that stuff attached to him, he looks smaller. I get to his side and see that he’s unconscious. I take his right hand in both my own and try to will all my strength into him.

He doesn’t look good.

“What happened?” I whisper it, probably I’m asking Daniel, but Tina answers.

“He played the hero, like always. Honestly, it wouldn’t be that bad but, they’re keeping him here and, well, he can’t get better here.”

“The doctors don’t think he’ll get better?” I try to keep the hysteria out of my voice but it’s impossible.

“They’re doing their best, but he has better medicine available to him. His body knows how to take care of this.”

I whirl around. “Tina, what are you talking about?”

She pauses and seems to read something in my face that I’m not meaning to advertise. “Sam, he’ll be okay, I will promise you that. If I have to drag his big ass out of that bed and shake the health right back into him then that’s what I’ll do.”

I’m confused by everything she’s saying, except for her promise to make sure she’ll watch over him. “I have to be home for the boys.” I turn back to look at Daniel, to plead with him. “It’s my job.”

I’m fighting back tears now, and I feel like an idiot. How did I let myself get so close?