Chapter Sixteen
Cait wasn’t accustomed to having company for her first cup of coffee in the morning, since she got up earlier than her mom and her brother, but on Friday Carter had a meeting with his guidance counselor before school started. He was bleary-eyed and clearly unhappy to be awake, but he still managed a quick smile when he saw her.
“I can’t believe you get up this early every day.”
“Do well in school and go to college, and maybe you can get some fancy office job with bankers’ hours.”
“Ha ha.” He grabbed a soda from the fridge and popped the tab while Cait winced. The only thing worse than liquid sugar in the morning was carbonated liquid sugar. “Hey, there was a fire on the news when I walked by the TV.”
Frowning, she took her coffee and went to sit on the couch. She set her mug down to pick up the remote control since she always turned the volume down to a murmur in the morning.
“Crews are still battling an early-morning fire at this hour,” the news anchor announced, before they cut back to the live scene.
It was a massive fire, and it looked like it had originated in one triple-decker before jumping to the one next door. The middle of the night and early-morning hours were the worst time for residential fires, she thought sadly. Most families were sound asleep when they started.
“Do you think Gavin’s there?” Carter asked, startling her. She hadn’t realized he was standing behind the couch, and she turned sideways so she could see both him and the television screen.
“He’s there.” She didn’t need to seek out the information or try to see the numbers on the apparatus on the screen. She knew he was on shift, she knew the building’s location and she could see the scope of the response. Engine 59 and Ladder 37 would be on scene.
“It looks dangerous.”
She heard the underlying tension in his voice and it pretty much matched the tension she herself was feeling. She probably would have changed the channel if she was alone in an attempt to fool herself into thinking she’d stop worrying, but Carter’s gaze was so glued to the screen, she wasn’t even sure he’d blinked.
“I know it looks like chaos,” she said, “but it’s actually very organized. There’s a guy in the command area who has a magnet board where all the trucks and firefighters are accounted for. And they’re all very well trained.”
“But things go wrong.”
Cait didn’t want to talk about that. Just the thought of something going sideways twisted her stomach into knots and made her throat ache. But just the fact Carter was so intent on the screen and the conversation—phone forgotten next to him—told her how much he cared and she didn’t want to discount that.
“Sometimes, but not often. You hear more about the few times it turns ugly than you do the thousands of times it doesn’t. There’s a lot of experience and training on that scene. And if they think it’s unsafe, they’ll pull everybody out.”
Carter only nodded, and then Cait watched him tilt his head, craning his neck as if he could see around the news anchor to identify the firefighters in the background. It was sweet and she found herself smiling at the back of her brother’s head.
She’d done enough fire standbys so she could make sense of what she was seeing, but she had to admit this time was different. The worry she usually felt for the first responders—many of whom she knew on at least a passing basis—was amped up and, like her brother, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to pick Gavin out of the crowd.
Then a new camera view picked up Ladder 37. She didn’t need a close-up to know it was Gavin at the top of the ladder. She just knew.
A woman and a little girl were in the window, screaming as the flames closed in on them. The ladder was moving and she could see Gavin yelling to them and see his body language. She didn’t need audio to know he was telling her it was okay. That he’d get them.
The woman shifted the girl in her arms and Cait knew she was going to throw the child to Gavin.
“Jesus,” she whispered as her stomach knotted.
The camera cut away, going back to the front of the scene. Cait didn’t move—she couldn’t move—as she realized the emotional toll it would take on Gavin if the mother threw the little girl and he didn’t catch her.
“Cait?”
“You need to get to school,” she said, more sharply than she intended.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay. And so is Gavin.” She forced herself to look away from the TV and paste a smile on her face. After taking a sip of her coffee because her mouth was dry, she stood up and walked around the couch to give him a quick hug. He wasn’t a fan, but he accepted it. “If you don’t go, you’re going to be late for your meeting.”
He slung his backpack over his shoulder, but didn’t move. “But if Gavin’s there, maybe they’ll interview him.”
She shook her head and shoved him toward the door. “It’ll be a while before anybody does an interview. And only the officers do interviews, so you won’t see Gavin, anyway.”
Once he was out the door, Cait noticed the time and realized she needed to get a move on. But she couldn’t stop herself from looking at the television one last time.
The scroll on the bottom of the screen changed to Fatal Fire and Cait felt her eyes well up. Nothing said the fatality was the woman or her little girl, but her gut told her it was. She swiped at her eyes, and then she made a few phone calls and, for the first time in a very long time, called in sick.
It wasn’t really a lie. Her stomach hurt but, even more, her heart ached.
* * *
Gavin sat on the curb, his elbows propped on his knees and his hands dangling between his legs. Head bowed, he stared at the disposable coffee cup that had slipped from his fingers, losing its lid and steaming contents when it hit the pavement. He didn’t care.
He could hear the little girl crying. The screaming for her mother had abated to sobbing and to pleading with the EMTs. She just wanted her mommy.
But her mommy was gone because Gavin hadn’t been able to catch her. Fifteen seconds. Maybe even ten. But if she’d just waited fifteen more seconds...
Gavin knew all the right words. He couldn’t save them all. He’d done all he could. That was the job. Blah blah blah. He knew all the correct words and he’d even had to say the words to others once or twice, but right now they offered no comfort. It would probably be a long time before they could overpower the memory of the little girl screaming for her mother.
A hand closed over his shoulder and squeezed. Gavin closed his eyes, hoping whoever belonged to the hand—probably Jeff, judging by the grip—didn’t say the words to him right now.
After a few seconds, the hand lifted and Gavin opened his eyes to see boots moving away from him.
The cold radiating from the pavement to his already chilled body was starting to hurt, so Gavin finally pushed himself to his feet. Their tour was over. They were returning to quarters and then he’d go home. Maybe he’d sleep or maybe he’d lie in bed and listen to the little girl screaming in his head, but for now he followed the others to the trucks.
Jeff was limping, favoring his knee, but he wasn’t surprised when he waved off the EMT who approached him. It wasn’t an injury, but a chronic problem Gavin suspected was getting worse and the cold didn’t help.
Nobody spoke on the ride back. Utterly exhausted and with the pall of a fatality hanging over them, they simply stared out the windows until the trucks were backed in and they could robotically go through their checklists before handing everything over to the next shift.
Gavin didn’t bother to shower. He just wanted to go home, and he didn’t speak to any of the guys on the way out. Derek Gilman, who was on his way in, slapped him on the shoulder, but they didn’t exchange words.
As he stepped through the firehouse door, a car pulled up to the curb and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Cait’s.
Something shook loose inside of him and he took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. She didn’t say anything. She just reached across to hold his hand and pulled back onto the street.
“Don’t you have to work today?” he finally asked, realizing his voice sounded hoarse from screaming. Don’t jump. I’m almost there.
“I called in sick.”
“Thank you.”
Cait didn’t ask him any questions. She seemed content to just drive and hold his hand until they parked in front of his building. He knew if he talked about it, she’d listen, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet.
Once they were inside his apartment, he turned to her, though. He wanted a hug in the worst way, but he looked down and realized he must stink of sweat and smoke. But when he looked up again, she was moving toward him, her arms apart.
He buried his face in her neck as she squeezed him tightly. “Did somebody text you?”
“I saw the fire on the news. The camera cut away because I think the camera person realized the woman was going to throw her daughter to you. A few minutes later they changed the headline scroll to fatal fire.”
“I caught the little girl.” Barely, and he’d almost gone off the ladder himself. “The mother...if she’d waited fifteen seconds. I told her to wait and she didn’t, Cait.”
“You saved her little girl.” She squeezed him tighter. “You did everything you could.”
“I was yelling at her to wait. And then...she jumped. I thought maybe there was a chance she’d survive. People fall three stories and survive, but she didn’t.”
“I’m sorry, Gavin.”
Her arms around him helped. She was so calm, and her firmly spoken belief he’d done everything he could eased some of the tightness in his chest. After a long moment, he kissed the side of her neck and pulled away.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.”
Once he’d washed away the grime and smell, he toweled off and pulled on his favorite pair of sweatpants. He went into the bedroom, intending to crawl into his bed and stay there until sleep finally came, but Cait was waiting for him.
“I knew you’d come this way. Come sit down and eat first.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“I know. It’s not much, but you need something in your stomach.”
He sat on the couch, noting that she’d already changed the television channel from the local station, which might show the news, to a random cable channel showing repeats of a crime drama. And when he looked at the paper plate sitting on the coffee table, he actually smiled.
“What is that?” he asked, looking at what appeared to be a slice of toast smeared with peanut butter, with sliced bananas spread over it.
“It’s a light meal, but with good stuff to help you get your strength back while you’re sleeping. My mom always made it for us when we were sick or too upset to eat.”
“What about you?”
“I ate mine while you were in the shower. Now eat.”
He did as he was told, and was surprised by how good it was. He’d had peanut butter on English muffins before, but the banana twist was new. And she was right. It did settle his stomach a little, having food in it. She’d also gotten him a small glass of milk, and he drank it all.
Then, instead of going and crawling into the big bed, he laid down on the couch and put his head in Cait’s lap. She stroked his hair and he closed his eyes, letting himself relax under her touch.
When her phone chimed, he was surprised to realize he’d been on the verge of sleep. He thought it would be hours before his mind calmed enough to let him drift off.
She reached across him to the coffee table, and he watched her flip the switch to silent before she leaned back and resumed stroking his hair.
“It might be Diane or Carter,” he said, unable to keep his voice from sounding flat. “Your mom might need you.”
“You need me.”
He closed his eyes, holding back the words. I love you.
He didn’t want to say them now, in this moment. Today was dark with loss and sorrow and guilt. When he told Cait how he felt about her, he wanted nothing but happiness on that day.
Maybe he’d take her back to the beach, he thought drowsily. Walking the rocky beach had been one of their favorite dates and it was a perfect excuse to go back. He could picture her with her hair blowing in the ocean breeze. Her cheeks rosy from the cold, but her eyes sparkling with joy.
I love you, Cait.
I love you, too.