“Why won’t you play with us?” Finn asked me for the thousandth time. He dealt the cards to the table of firemen with the expert efficiency of a casino dealer. Our 24-hour shift at the Amberly fire station was almost over. With all chores and tasks complete, the guys liked to pass the last hour with a rousing game of poker.

I leaned against the brick column by the table, arms folded. “I’m supervising,” I said. “Someone has to look like they’re working.”

“Rhett’s afraid of losing,” Mitch said, grinning up at me under his mop of white blonde hair. He picked up his cards in his meaty hands and frowned.

“I’d work on my poker face before I made comments like that,” I said. “I can tell what kind of hands you guys have without even seeing your cards.”

“Then you should play and beat us all,” Kai said. He waggled his eyebrows at me. I replied with a steady gaze and a half smirk, not moving from my comfy spot against the load bearing column.

“I’m good,” I said, already bored of this exchange. It was like this every time. I didn’t play cards, especially at the end of a shift when my eyes were tired and my head hurt. And even though it was almost time to to clock out, someone needed to stay on high alert. I stayed watchful, and the other guys could have their fun.

As if on cue, the front door of the fire station swung open and a courier appeared. He held the door open with his foot and balanced an unsealed cardboard box in his arms. “Is Rhett Hayes here?”

He looked over the room, his cheeks pink from exertion. Or maybe he was reacting to the attention of an entire gathering of fireman, all suddenly focused on him.

Our town was known for its small town charm and scenic beauty, but it also served as a beacon for people who appreciated the open and friendly attitudes of the residents. So it was perfectly reasonable that the courier might freeze and blush in the spotlight of so much male attention.

As entertained as I was by the silent interchange between him and my fellow firemen, I wanted to know what was in that box.

“I’m Rhett Hayes,” I said. I pushed myself off from the column near the table where I’d been leaning and cracked my neck as I strode toward the doorway. The courier blushed deeper, looking me up and down. He looked familiar.

I wondered if he was a Grindr hookup. My rule was, never in this town and only once. That kept things simple.

The reason everyone loved me is they didn’t know me. They didn’t know what a fucked up family I came from, they didn’t know I faked my movements through polite society. Don’t think about how you don’t belong, or they will realize you don’t belong.

The mystery delivery reminded me that my mouth had a way of getting me into trouble. I couldn’t help it if I charmed the Junior League and ended up with weeks of treats delivered to the station, or that the residents of the retirement home sent me invitations to all their birthday parties, or even that the elementary school classes sent me a steady stream of fireman drawings.

So now what?  The guys all watched me with the same expression. I swear the trouble I got into was a constant source of entertainment around here.

“Whatcha got for me, handsome?”  I flashed a winning smile at him, and took the clipboard he balanced between his hand and the side of the box. I signed on the line and looked at him expectantly.

“My instructions are no returns,” the courier said, stammering a little. He pushed the cardboard box toward me and I traded him for the clipboard of forms. The lid was unsealed -- only folded closed and loose. “Handle with extreme care. Maybe put it on the table before you open it.” He looked ready to run.

“Uh, okay?” I said, adjusting to the uneven weight of the box. What could it possibly be?  I carried the box to the table and the guys all moved aside, just as curious as me.

I opened the flaps and peered inside.

What the — ?

A puppy.

“It’s a dalmatian!” Mitch exclaimed. “Oh my god, it’s just like out of the movie!”

“What movie?” My mind spun in circles. Why was I just delivered a puppy?

“What do you mean, ‘what movie’?” Mitch said. “Everyone saw it when they were kids!”

“Fuck you,” I said. I pushed my irritation away and focused on the creature in the box.

The puppy was young — so young his skin looked a little too big for his body. His paws were definitely too big, and his fur was mostly white, dappled with gray dots beneath the skin, all over his slick round tummy. The puppy looked up at me with big sad eyes.

He was terrified. I knew that look. I knew nothing about dogs, but I would bet money this one was scared. I reached into the box and cupped the white creature into my hand. I gently lifted him out and into my arms.

His little warm body immediately moved toward me, nestling closer to my chest. His belly was soft, so soft, and warm. As a first responder, I’d delivered a few babies in my fireman career. His skin felt so tender, almost like a new baby. His little wet nose wuffled my hand as he tried to crawl even closer to my chest.

“Poor little guy,” I said. “Who puts a dalmatian in a box and has it delivered to a fire station?”

“Probably one of your rabid calendar fans,” Finn said. His tone was a little too snarky; time to let it go. I won the cover this year of the annual fireman calendar, a fundraiser that created a surprising amount of competition from the entrants. Finn wasn’t chosen for the cover, but he was Mr. November.

“There’s a card,” Kai reached into the box and pulled it out before I could. “Ohhh, fancy paper. Can I open it?”

I sighed. It probably was a calendar fan. They sent me all kinds of other things, some of them definitely not in keeping with the family friendly image of the fire department. I mean, what did I want with someone’s panties anyway?

Next year I would make sure my sexual orientation was published. But would that keep away the embarrassing gifts, or just change the nature of them?

“Sure, go ahead.”  I sat down with the puppy still in my arms. He was so small and warm. So much life glowed inside the little creature.

I felt angry at whomever put him in a box for a courier. He was a living creature, not a house plant.

I stroked the puppy’s head and neck. My big calloused fingers looked comical next to his little skull. He didn’t seem to mind, and craned himself for more.

Kai held the paper up and read aloud:

Dear Rhett,

We loved your interview in the fireman calendar. You said you always wanted a dog and could never have one. We all pitched in and got you this dalmatian puppy. He is a low uric acid dalmatian, bred to eliminate breed-rampant kidney problems.

Sometimes dreams do come true.

This little guy can be your station mascot and make a great addition to future calendars. Hope you get the cover again!

Sincerely,

Your unofficial fan club.

Kai grinned. “I bet it’s like an online book group, like the ones that dug up all those old photos of you and used them for images in their book reviews. Remember how they said they wanted to do something for you?”

“No, I bet it was the Junior League. Remember how they kept sending treats and asking him to come do fire safety seminars?” Finn said. “Dalmatians are expensive, I bet it was them.”

“Rhett and his mouth,” Mitch said. He wasn’t wrong. I seemed to talk myself into, and out of, trouble routinely.

Why had I said that in the calendar? It just felt right at the time, like something that would sound good in the interview and also deflect from them asking too many more questions about my childhood. Sometimes it was better to give people the kind of information they were looking for. Then they stopped prying.

I shifted in my seat and cradled the dog protectively with my hands. The puppy nestled closer, as if he was trying to stay away from the commotion of the room. How much trouble could such a little creature be?

“What are you going to name him?” Mitch wanted to know.

“I don’t know. Jesus, give me some time to think about it.” My mind raced. How could I have a dog in my life?

The puppy burrowed further into my arms, away from the chaos of the room.

“Don’t name him unless you’re sure you’re going to keep him,” Finn said. “Otherwise you’ll get too attached.”

“Thanks for the genius advice,” I rolled my eyes.

Finn frowned at me.

The door opened and the chief breezed in. Talk about presence -- this guy was the definition of burly. He was the kind of guy with so many muscles you’d think he wouldn’t be able to move well. Except I’d seen him move.

I willed myself invisible to escape the notice of the captain. He didn’t need to see a puppy in my lap.

Too late. “What’s this?” The chief stopped in front of me, looking down at the puppy and frowning.

“Someone sent him a puppy because he’s so sexy!” Finn volunteered.

I rolled my eyes at Finn and grinned at the chief.  I shrugged. I had no explanation, so, a smile would have to do.

“All right then,” the chief said, shaking his head. “Rhett, can I see you in my office?”

I knew better than to talk back or question this request. “Yes, sir.” I stood up, and still holding the puppy in the crook of my arm, followed the chief into headquarters. I couldn’t resist looking back at the other guys and blowing them a kiss. Finn was jealous as fuck of the calendar spot, even if it was a stupid thing to care about. I had to get him back for that sexy comment.

In the office, my eyes briefly fell on the photo of my our previous chief, who was also my adopted father. The chief followed my gaze and gave me a brief smile as he closed the door. “Please, have a seat.”

Great. My whole life I’d been in and out of the principal’s office. Sometimes for things I did, and sometimes for things I didn’t. I’d attended enough of these meetings to not let them get under my skin.

What did the chief want now? We’d already gone over what happened last month. Driving a sick kid to the hospital in a fire truck was against regulations. I was supposed to wait for the ambulance, but tell that to the grateful parents. Rules served us, not the other way around. Not everyone believed that though. But that was over and history.

My mind ticked through recent events. I couldn’t think of anything current that could be a problem, but then again, I didn’t think a lot of things were a problem.

I’d also made sure to keep my Grindr hookups to out-of-town encounters. Being a fireman meant I had an image to uphold. No one cared that I was gay, but…my Only Once policy wasn’t exactly in keeping with the city image of the wholesome fireman. One night stands kept me from getting into complicated relationships I wasn’t cut out for.

The chief sat down at his desk and straightened himself in his chair. He picked up a yellow pencil. It looked comical engulfed in his enormous hands. He rolled the pencil back and forth between his palms, like a rolling pin between two rocks. The shiny edges flashed while I waited for what he was going to say.

I sat back in my chair and stretched back, trying to appear relaxed. I readjusted the puppy in my arms and his warm weight provided an unexpected soothing presence. “What’s up Chief?”