Page 131 of Sparking Sara

“He’s here, in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I want to go see him before I leave. Hopefully, the discharge nurse can find out where he is. The pediatric floor, I assume. Poor kid. He’s awfully young to be joining our club,” he says.

“Club?”

“The orphan club. At least you and I were older and had time with our parents.”

“Technically, I’m not an orphan.”

He questions me with his eyes.

“As far as I know, my biological father is still alive. I told you I was adopted, didn’t I?”

“Joelle did.” He pats the bed next to him. “Do you want to tell me about it? I didn’t want to pry.”

I sit down next to him and he holds my hand. “Ironically, I was left at a fire station when I was eleven months old.”

“A fire station? Really?”

I nod. “My father left a note saying that he tried, but raising a baby alone was too hard for him. He said my mother had died in childbirth. He said my name was Sara Grace, but he didn’t reveal my last name.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

“No need to be. I had great parents. As far as I’m concerned, they are my only parents. And I guess I have to respect my biological father for doing what he did. I mean, things could have turned out much worse for me if he’d kept me. He could have been a drug addict. He could have abused me because he was so frustrated. He could have left me somewhere that wasn’t as safe as a fire station.”

“So you’ve never tried to find him?”

I shake my head confidently. “I never felt the need.”

“And your parents kept your name.”

“They did. They told me that man gave them the greatest gift they’d ever received, and they didn’t want to spoil the miracle by renaming me.”

“Your parents sound like good people.”

“They were. You’d have gotten along great with them. My dad loved watching old movies about firefighters. His favorite one wasThe Towering Inferno. I’ll bet he would have called you Steve McQueen.”

Denver laughs.

“They wanted to adopt more kids, you know, but they just became too old and nobody would allow it.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, they are my heroes,” he says. “If it weren’t for them, I never would have met you.”

“And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here,” I say. “You’re a hero so many times over. You saved me. You saved Joey. You’ve saved so many others.”

“I’m no hero,” he says. “I’m just doing my job, Sara. Anybody would do the same.”

“No, anybody wouldn’t. It takes a special person to do what you do.”

A nurse walks in with a folder. “I have your discharge papers, Mr. Andrews.”

Denver listens intently to her instructions about not playing sports, doing any heavy lifting, or basically anything that would jostle his brain. Then he sweet-talks her into getting him the room number of the little boy, which would never be given out to anyone—but since Denver is the reason Joey is alive, I guess they made an exception.

Someone comes in the room with a wheelchair.

Denver looks at it. “Uh, no.”

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