Page 7 of Dear Mr. Firefighter
“Nothing.” I waved her off and cleared my throat. “You shouldn’t be using an app like this.”
“I agree.” Bridget closed the app and put the tablet down. “I’ll look at it later tonight and figure out how to remove your profile. It’s almost time for dinner.”
“Sounds good. I’m starving.” I leaned forward and started to stand. “Abby, did you get your homework done?”
“No…” Abby folded her arms across her chest and pouted. “You weren’t here when I got home, and you said you were going to help.”
“That’s why I’m asking.” I chuckled under my breath. “I’ll help you after dinner.”
“Okay.” She smiled and stood to her feet.
Abby and Bridget told me about their day while we ate dinner. Bridget’s day wasn’t very interesting—just another day waiting tables. Abby had loads of gossip to share about school, and we pretended to get absorbed in it, even though I could hardly follow the timeline. It sounded like a soap opera script filled with backstabbing, betrayal and budding romance. At least none of it involved Abby directly and she was just telling us what happened to other people. I had to assume she embellished some of it, as girls her age often did, but it was her whole world, so we did our best to give the stories the respect they deserved.
“Okay, young lady.” I sat down once the table was cleared. “Let’s take care of your homework.”
Abby and I went through her homework while Bridget finished cleaning up. Bridget didn’t really have the patience to help Abby with her work, so I did the best that I could. I was a good student when I wanted to be, which definitely helped when I became a SEAL. My sister was a bit of a rebel during her formative years and school wasn’t a priority. Abby and I finished her homework fairly quickly, and she was in bed by eight, which was a small victory.
“Okay, I’m going outside to burn one. It’s been a long day.” Bridget held up a joint and motioned towards the back porch.
“Wait, before you get fucked up, can you help me delete this damn profile?” I pointed at the tablet.
“Are you sure you don’t want to meet this girl you got matched with?” She raised her eyebrows as she sat down next to me and picked up the tablet.
“I don’t know.” I exhaled sharply. “It’s like—what’s the point, you know? I’m not going to get married or start a family at this point in my life. She looks pretty young. I’m sure she wants all of those things.”
“Why don’t you want to start a family? You’re great with Abby. I know you’d be an awesome Dad—much better than the one we had.” She leaned back with the tablet in her hand.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But I’ll be forty in a couple of years. I’d be pushing sixty by the time the kid was in college…”
“So what? You’re healthy, you take care of yourself—you won’t even smoke a joint with me.” She chuckled under her breath.
“That’s not really my thing.” I shook my head back and forth.
“Abby will be really disappointed if you don’t meet this girl.” She held up the tablet and showed me the picture again.
“Why is this so important to her anyway?” I grunted and sighed.
“You know how it is when she gets something in her head.” Bridget shrugged. “You could at least go to the appointment and see what happens…”
“I’ll think about it.” I nodded. “At least I can tell Abby I tried if it doesn’t work out, right?”
“It might pacify her for a few days.” Bridget giggled and put the tablet down. “Let’s leave the profile up for now.”
“Fine…” I nodded in agreement.
I guess it won’t hurt anything to go down there and answer a few questions.
