Page 137 of Sparking Sara

Denver smiles. “You bet we can see him today. It wouldn’t be a Saturday if we didn’t.”

For five weeks now, we’ve been visiting Joey at his foster home. We outfitted him with clothes and provided toys for him and the four other kids in the house.

Joey has really taken to Denver, or ‘Uncle Den’ as I’ve started referring to him around Joey.

Denver looks at the clock. “When does Davis have his people coming over to get the paintings?”

“Oh, crap,” I say, realizing what time it is. “In about thirty minutes.”

I get out of bed and falter a little when my left leg fails me. Denver runs over to steady me. He doesn’t mention the leg, he never draws attention to it, he just helps me like he always does—with a smile and a kiss. I think we both have come to realize I may always be like this. And he seems fine with it. In fact, he tells me often that he loves me exactly the way I am.

“Do you think we’ll have time to stop by the new place today and check out the cabinets they put in yesterday?” he asks.

“We should,” I say on the way to the bathroom. “Why don’t we just get ready early and then go right from Joey’s to the new apartment and then to the showing?”

“It doesn’t sound like you’ve left any time to eat dinner,” he says.

“Dinner? We can grab you a bite somewhere on the way, but I won’t be able to eat right before the show. I’m already in knots as it is. Plus, they’ll have some food at the gallery if I decide I can stomach it.”

“And champagne,” he says.

“Well, that’s good. I might need a lot of that to get through the night.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’ll need it to toast all the sales you’re going to get.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Denver.”

“Just stating the facts, sweetheart. Now get your pretty little ass in the shower.”

A few hours later, after the gallery has picked up all of the paintings for tonight, we’re on our way to see Joey. But when we’re a block away, we hear a horrible sound of screeching tires and buckling metal. We turn around to see a car has barreled into the front steps of a row house, just thirty feet behind us.

My heart slams into the front of my chest. Ninety seconds ago, Denver and I were walking in that exact spot.

“Call nine-one-one!” Denver yells over his shoulder as he drops the bag he was carrying and runs in the direction of the car.

My shaky fingers dial the numbers and then I tell the dispatcher what I see. She says help is on the way.

While I’m glued to the sidewalk in sheer terror, what I see over the next few minutes is amazing. When you’re in love with a firefighter, you don’t get to see him work as you might if you were in love with a plumber or a contractor, or maybe even a doctor. My eyes track the swift and fluid way Denver takes control of the situation, dealing with both the onlookers and the person in the car.

He pulls a man out of the car and starts doing CPR on him. Just as an ambulance pulls up, the man coughs and opens his eyes. The bystanders applaud. Denver stays with the man until the paramedics load him into the back of the ambulance.

When the ambulance pulls away, Denver sits on the curb and takes some deep breaths. I walk over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He startles and looks up at me like he’s just now remembering I’m here.

“That was amazing,” I say, sitting down next to him. “You saved that man, Denver. I’m sorry I just stood there like an imbecile. I froze. I couldn’t even get myself to help you.”

“It’s not your job to help,” he says. “Besides, you did help. You called nine-one-one.”

I shake my head in awe. “I can’t believe you do stuff like that every day. You’re an incredible person, Denver Andrews. It’s hard to believe you ever had any trouble responding to car accidents. You handled that like a real professional.”

He nods. “It took a long time for me to get there.”

“Well, most of the best things in life are worth waiting for,” I say.

He grabs my hand. “You can say that again.”

I lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

He helps me up and then looks at his pants. “Well, shit. The knees are all ripped.”

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