Page 25 of Sparking Sara

“I am.”

“Last shift left some breakfast for us if you’re interested,” he says.

Then the alarm sounds and we all stop talking and listen. “Engine 319, Squad 13, EMS 64, respond to a residential structure fire at the corner of Seventh Avenue and Fifty-Third Street.”

J.D. heads for the stairs. “You know the rule, right, Andrews?”

“Fifty-two seconds,” I say, following right behind him.

The three of us fly down the stairs and pull on our turnout gear consisting of our boots, pants, and coats. Then we put on our helmets and hoist ourselves into the rig.

“About fucking time,” Steve says, already in the driver’s seat.

“Duck lives to show us all up,” Bass says from the seat next to mine.

“You better watch it,” J.D. tells Steve. “Or I’ll cut that time in half.”

I look out the window of the rig as we drive down the street. We fly past cars that have pulled over to the side of the road. J.D. pulls the cord to blare the horn as we barrel through intersections. We all wave back at kids who stop and stare longingly at the shiny big fire truck.

Damn, I love what I do.

I just wish I was better at it.

~ ~ ~

On the way back from our call, which turned out to be a small garage fire, we pass what’s left of a car accident that another company responded to. The smashed-up car is being hoisted up onto a wrecker. My hands are on the window and my eyes are glued to the car as we wait our turn to pass. The car looks like it got wrapped around a pole just behind the driver’s seat.

I feel my heart start to pound as all the possible outcomes flash through my mind. Then as we drive away, I finally begin breathing again. My head slumps over and I put my elbows on my knees as I take in some deep breaths.

When I look over at Bass, I find him staring at me. He doesn’t make some dick comment like Geoff Nolan and a lot of other guys would. He doesn’t even try to talk to me. He just looks … concerned.

As soon as we’re back at the station and I get cleaned up, I call Joelle.

“Hi, Denver,” she answers.

I can tell in her voice that something’s wrong.

“What is it? Is she okay?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I can’t go to the hospital today, or for several days. The twins both woke up with bad colds and the nurse told me not to come. They can’t risk any germs in the ICU. Sara is already at risk for pneumonia.”

My head falls back against the wall and I look to the ceiling in disappointment. Sara will be alone today.All day.

“And Oliver?”

“He hasn’t shown up yet,” she says. “He didn’t get back to you?”

“No.”

“Maybe Lydia will go back,” she says.

I shake my head. “I doubt it. I got the feeling she showed up yesterday to get some kind of closure.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. “Have you talked to the hospital today?”

“Not since one-thirty this morning.”

“You called them in the middle of the night?” she asks.

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