Page 2 of Playing With Fire
Hudson
Some people aren’t morning people, but I am. Ready to walk out the door at six with my coffee in hand, I love starting my day before the sun.
Makes me feel like I get more time to live, breathe, hang out with my niece and nephew, and do everything else I love.
Including work.
My job is fun, especially on warm sunny days—which today is supposed to be. I counted my lucky stars when this company hired me and I counted them again when I was switched to this route.
Known for their support and flexibility for veterans, I was given a permanent route with weekends off right away and now that they’ve approved my request to switch from commercial to residential, I can start earlier which means I’m usually done by two. Not only does this mean I’ll be able to pick my sister’s kids up from daycare when she goes back to work, but it also allows me to continue to volunteer at the fire department.
The fire station’s where I met my three best friends, and since moving back home, and especially since losing Will, I’verelied on them and that station a lot. It gives me that surge of adrenaline when I need it. It also gives me purpose and allows me to feel like I still matter. Like I make a difference and not just because I’m filling Will’s shoes.
Strolling into the warehouse with a smile on my face, I run into Scott while grabbing my route list.
“Morning!” I tell my coworker cheerfully.
“It’s too early for conversation,” he grumbles, eyes heavy with sleep.
“Nonsense.” I smile and clap him on the back. “It’s the perfect time to say hello.”
“You’re one of those sick fucks who likes to lift weights, too, aren’t you?” He scans my frame. “I’m guessing you probably don’t eat refined sugar or seed oils either.”
I pull the hem of my uniform shirt up to display the abs I’ve worked so hard for.
Patting my stomach, I grin. “And risk losing these babies? Hell no, I don’t eat that shit.”
Scott mirrors the gesture and pats his gut. “See? That’s the beauty of being married. Getting laid is a sure thing so there ain’t no need to torture myself with all that health-nut crap.” He actually pulls out a Snickers bar to prove his point.
I know he’s only joking, but part of him isn’t and it rubs me the wrong way. I hate when couples get so comfortable with each other they begin to take their partner for granted. My time in the military taught me that nothing in life is a guarantee so I try to always be a man worthy of those around me. Not only that, but if I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of my family and friends?
I understand not everyone feels the same way I do though, so I just laugh. “You keep living your life and I’ll live mine, yeah?”
Scott grins and lets out a grunt as he heaves himself into the truck next to my bay.
Thankfully, the trucks have already been loaded from the guys on third shift. All we have to do is drive around playing Santa.
I grab my keys from the lockbox and slip behind the wheel of truck number forty-eight. Settling in, I take a swig of piping hot coffee, plug my phone into the aux outlet—I have one of the older trucks—and crank it up. Once I’m settled, my eyes scan the addresses on my route. The street names are all familiar to me even though the route is new.
By lunchtime, I’m over halfway done eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the parking lot of the grocery store when I take notice of the next house on the list.
The house with the crying baby.
The house with the brunette bombshell in a towel.
There was no way for me to know it was naptime, butShannonclearly needed one herself and it was pretty obvious I messed that up for her. Following the image of the frazzled woman that pops into my brain, is an idea.
It’s a ridiculous idea, but in the same vein of not taking things for granted, I also learned to never put things off. Again, nothing is a guarantee. Certainly not time.
A quick flash of Will’s mangled car enters my mind and I have to forcibly push it aside or I’ll have a breakdown right here in this parking lot.
Hopping out of my delivery truck, I slide my door shut and lock it down. We aren’t really supposed to leave our trucks unattended, but I’ll only be a minute. After making my purchase and clocking back in, it’s not long before I’m passing through the gate into the ritzy neighborhood where I made my grievous error last week.
I survey the house numbers as I pass, getting a better feelfor where they start and stop. The faster I learn the details of the route, the more efficient I can be.
Pulling into the circular driveway of the massive brick house, I pause, taking it all in.
There’s no denying it’s a beautiful house. Too big for my taste, but beautiful nonetheless. A four-car garage is visible from this portion of the driveway and I’m sure whatever is behind those closed doors matches the grandeur of the rest of the property.
