Chapter Nineteen
Eric
Two Months Later
“I cannot believe your mother is so insistent on those white rose bouquets as the centerpieces. I mean, they were beautiful, but come on white roses? I much prefer the purple and white lilies. After all, that matches the color scheme of the wedding perfectly, but she is so insistent.”
I paused with the toothbrush still in my mouth and peered over my shoulder at my soon-to-be wife. It was early morning, and I was up getting ready for my day shift, while my woman continued talking about wedding plans. The previous day she and my mother went out with the wedding planner—my mother insisted on paying for one, looking at locations and decor and all that shit. I was more than relieved to leave them to it. Just as long as I knew where to show up, what to wear, and what time, I’d be fine.
“Oh, and we have to decide between the carrot, vanilla bean, or the red velvet cakes for the reception. I loved the vanilla bean, but the carrot cake was pretty good, too. What did you think?”
I turned back around but raised my eyes to look at her in the mirror, behind me. Bending down, I spat out the toothpaste and rinsed my mouth out before answering.
“Whatever you think is best, Angel.” I place a kiss on her nose, noting the frown she wore. Moving from the bathroom, I made my way across the hall to the bedroom, grabbing my work T-shirt and placing it on before proceeding down the hall to the kitchen, Angela hot on my heels.
“That’s what you always say, babe,” she whined. “I know you wanna be hands off with most of the wedding stuff, but I want you to at least have a say in what we eat. Especially, since the wedding cake is a big deal and we’ll be eating it a year later on our anniversary.”
The glass of freshly squeezed orange juice that she kept in the fridge stopped halfway to my mouth.
I screwed my face up. “Why would we eat year-old cake?”
She rolled her eyes, lifting her face toward the ceiling. She looked so adorable, I was tempted to take a step forward and peel off the white camisole and boyshort panties she wore.
“It’s a tradition. The couple freezes the top layer of the wedding cake in the freezer for a year and eats it on their first anniversary. It’s for good luck. Don’t give me that face!” she continued, when I stared, bewildered, having never heard of such a thing.
“Anyway,” she droned, “that’s why it’s important you have a say in the wedding cake.”
I finished my glass of orange juice, cursing myself for drinking it right after I’d brushed my teeth since now the taste was off. I woke up late…or rather, got out of bed late due to early morning activities with my fiancée. Now, I was rushing to get to work on time.
“Angel, I don’t care what type of cake we eat.” I pulled her into me with one arm and stopped her reply with my mouth on hers. I took her chin up between my thumb and forefinger. “As long as you’re there looking beautiful and we both say I do, I’m good. I gotta go. Love you,” I hurried, kissing her once more and grabbing my duffle, breezing out the door to my car across the street.
I let out a snort once I was on the road thinking of all the details Angela and I talked about while discussing this wedding. More like, she “discussed” while I listened—partially so. I knew my mother wanted to be as hands-on as possible and Angela was hesitant, but eventually agreed since she wouldn’t be able to share this occasion with her own mother, a fact that saddened her deeply. And while they bickered on place settings and other dumb shit I couldn’t care less about, they hadn’t had any major fights, so I was fine with the arrangement as it stood.
Climbing out of my car, I looked up at the station’s marquee and the feeling that puffed my chest out that always overcame me was there once again. I felt on top of the world. Not only was I moving up the ranks in my career, but the woman I loved even more than fighting fires would soon wear my wedding band on her hand. Hell, she was even working with my mother to plan our wedding. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing and no one that could bring me down.
“Morning, Lieutenant.”
I turned to see the guy we referred to as rookie number one, smiling. “Hey, Jack,” I greeted. He’s since moved past the no-name stage of his hazing.
He looked up, too. “Does it ever get old?” I heard the wonder, excitement, and awe in his voice.
“No,” I simply answered. Because it never did.
We turned and headed inside, welcomed by Corey, Carter, Don, and Sean who were all laughing and joking in the kitchen.
“Roll call!” I called out, clipboard in hand. Although I’ve been doing roll call for some time, now that I was officially a lieutenant, I took even more pride in the simplest of things.
“Hey, you and Angela looking at houses this weekend?” Sean asked, once roll call was over, and we began the usual routine of cleaning out our equipment. Angela and I agreed to buy our own home to start our lives together. I put my condo on the market a month ago, and it sold within two weeks. Since then, I moved into Angela’s place. She was still torn on whether or not she wanted to sell her current home or rent it out. I pushed for her to rent it knowing she’d be too sad to sell the house her parents built for their family. We could keep it in the family and pass it to our children or Jeremiah, Sean’s son.
“Yeah. Our realtor has a couple of houses in mind that are close to both the station and the bar.”
Sean nodded. “Sounds go―” His mouth clamped shut, eyes rolling toward the ceiling when the station’s alarm started sounding off.
In typical Rescue Four fashion, a flurry of activity began with guys grabbing their gear and throwing it on, sliding down the pole, and lockers slamming shut. I had my gear on in less than two minutes and was running toward the driver’s seat of the rig. Relief flooded my body when I felt the keys in the ignition.
“Ten-forty-nine in progress at a two-story warehouse,” the voice of the female announcer came through our radios.
“Ten-forty-nine,” Captain Waverly snorted. “Small,” he commented. That was the code for a relatively small fire. Probably only two trucks would show up to this one, ours and another station. Nonetheless, I stepped on the gas, pushing us closer to the fire. We didn’t know how many people were inside or if anyone was trapped, injured, or worse.
When we arrived, we learned from the truck that was already there that the fire had mostly been contained to the second floor. It was Rescue Four’s duty to go in and check to make sure no one was inside. Captain Waverly stayed outside, allowing me to take the lead, followed by Corey, Carter, Don, and Jack. Sean and a few other guys remained at the station.
Each of us scattered once we entered the building. The smoke was thick in the air, causing us to keep our masks on to keep from inhaling it.
“All clear over here!” I recognized Carter’s voice.
Then came Don and Corey’s all clears, at which point I continued farther down the hall. It was longer than I suspected upon first entering the building, as it wound around the side of the building.
“Harvard to Rescue F―” Before I could call back to the guys that I was all clear, a loud crackling sound cut me off. My head shot upwards, and just before I was struck, I made out the second-floor roof of the warehouse collapsing directly on top of me.
****
Angela
“Hey, you okay?” Stephanie asked while I wiped down a spill at the bar.
I blinked, taking a second to realize she was addressing me. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Because that customer’s been trying to get your attention for some time now.” She nodded her head in the direction of a man waving, obviously wanting to order a drink.
“Shit.” I hurried over to the man, apologizing and taking his order. Once I passed him the lager he ordered, I went back to wiping up the counter.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Steph asked again.
I gave a half shrug. The truth was, I wasn’t. Over the last hour, a sense of dread had settled in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake it. It weighed my mood down like a twenty-pound boulder. Though I tried not to think about it, the only other time in my life I felt like this was when my parents went away for their anniversary. Within a few hours of that feeling, I got the call telling me they died. But I wasn’t about to share that with Stephanie.
“I’m fine, it’s just that Eric’s mom has been so insistent on these bouquets as place settings for the wedding, and I don’t like them that much,” I lied.
Thankfully, Stephanie was none the wiser. “Oh, see that’s why I’m eloping when I get married.”
“Eloping?” I asked, laughing a little.
“Yeah, wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of thing. We’ll go to a little chapel in Vegas or maybe Reno and do it there.”
“That’s so cheesy, Steph.”
My phone, which I placed on the counter behind the bar, buzzed and I picked it up seeing that I’d received a text message. I opened it to see it was from Eric’s mother.
How about these?
The question was accompanied by a picture of an all-white bouquet of lilies. I rolled my eyes.
“See what I mean?” I held up the message for Stephanie to read.
She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “I’m telling you, Vegas or Reno.”
“That’s not sounding like a bad idea all of a sudden,” I mumbled while I typed a response. Placing the phone down, I worked to get out of my funk. I did my best not to think the worst. Two of the most important men in my life worked as firefighters, and I prayed to the Man above that this feeling in my gut wasn’t telling me the worst has happened to one of them. I’d be devastated if something happened to Sean. I simply doubted I’d even make it if something happened to Eric. I shook my head of those thoughts. It was probably just the nervousness and tension of all the wedding talk or something. I went on to serve more customers, ignoring my feelings. One of my favorite songs came on the jukebox and customers started clapping, urging us to dance. I almost convinced myself I was feeling better. That is until Sean came barging through the door.
I looked up just as he entered. Seeing his ghosted eyes, I knew.
I just knew.
My heart rose into my throat, and it became impossible to swallow.
My hands began trembling so badly that I dropped the bottle I was holding. I didn’t even notice the shards of glass on the floor around my feet. I was planted in place. I wanted to get to Sean―ask him what happened―but I couldn’t move. I thought I made out his form striding toward me, but everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. My heartbeat tripled, and a buzzing sound took over in my ears. I panned down to his lips, and it was then I realized they were moving. He was saying something.
“Angela.” My brother’s voice alone almost broke me. It was so heavy. So full of sorrow.
“I-is he…is h-he dead?” I managed to croak out, tears already streaming down my face.
“You need to come with me.” He used the voice he used when he needed to be firm yet gentle with Jeremiah. The same one I heard him use when telling Jeremiah our parents died.
I don’t know how I got from behind the bar to my brother. I think Stephanie told me she’d take care of everything, and pushed me to get moving. Then again, maybe Sean came around the bar to tug me to get me to move. I don’t know. The next thing I remembered was Sean helping me into his car, placing my purse in my lap, him proceeding to get into the driver’s side, and pulling off.
I had a million and one questions shooting around in my mind, but I couldn’t talk. Didn’t want to talk. Talking would make it real, and I didn’t know what was worse, the made-up scenario in my mind or reality. I opted to clamp my mouth shut and just watch the lights of the city pass by as we drove to the hospital. I twisted the engagement ring I’ve worn since the day Eric asked me to be his wife, around and around, hoping it’d provide me some comfort.
“He’s in Room 221,” Sean said in my ear, taking my elbow and leading us to the elevators. I was so grateful for his strength right then.
When the elevator doors opened my heart nearly stopped for a second time. Lined down the hallway were firefighters on either side. Some were dressed in their fire-resistant gear. Some wore their regular uniform, the same uniform black trousers and navy blue T-shirt with black boots that Eric rushed out of the house wearing just that morning. At least I thought it was that morning. How could it have only been that morning and yet felt so long ago?
They all turned in my direction. Some wore looks of pity, some outright sorrow, and tears, while others barely held eye contact with me. I was most jarred by the red-rimmed eyes of Don’s. He was usually the first person to speak, make a joke or try to lighten the mood. He turned his head to the linoleum floor and didn’t look back up as we passed.
“Angela.” Captain Waverly came up to me.
“H-how is he?” I asked, my voice cracking. I honestly didn’t know if I even wanted the answer to that question. The expressions on the men's faces I just saw told me it wasn’t good.
“The doctor is saying it’s touch and go but won’t give us any more details than that. They were waiting for…”
“Next of kin,” I finished for him.
Just then the doctor came out of the room.
“Doctor, Eric’s next of kin is here,” Captain Waverly spoke up, pointing at me.
“You are?” the older man asked.
“Angela Moore, his fiancée.”
The doctor tilted his head almost in familiarity. “He’s been asking for you.”
“He’s awake?” There was hope in my voice.
“Yes, but I must warn you his situation is grave. He has three fractured ribs, one of which punctured his lung. We believe he has some internal bleeding, but we’re not sure where it’s coming from. His vitals weren’t stable enough when he first came in to perform surgery. We’re trying to wait for his vitals to raise to perform surgery. For right now, it’s a waiting game.”
“Oh God!” I covered my mouth with my hand. My stomach lurched, and I felt like the room was spinning.
“Angela,” Sean called, turning me to him, “you need to be strong for Eric right now. Okay? He wants to see you.”
I nodded vigorously, dabbing at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “O-okay. Um, his parents. Someone needs to tell t―”
“They’re being brought to the hospital as we speak,” Sean confirmed.
I nodded and blew out a shaky breath. I could do this. I could be strong for the man who was always so strong for me. I inhaled and stepped toward the door. Blowing the air from my lungs, I moved to push the door open. The room was eerily quiet save for the beeps of the monitors. I pushed past the curtain and had to cover my mouth to prevent the gasp that wanted to escape.
Eric was laying in the bed, the white sheet only covering up to his waist. He was shirtless, although wide bandages were wrapped around his chest and upper stomach areas. The skin that was showing above the bandages was bruised. His face. His beautiful face was swollen on one side, marred by black and purple bruises. His breathing was so labored. I stopped, being as quiet as a mouse as I watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. With each inhale his face—the half that wasn’t bruised—contorted a little, as if it pained him just to breathe.
I crept around to the side of his bed, still not making a sound. His eyes were closed, and I assumed he fell back asleep. As frightened as I was, I needed to touch him. I needed to feel him to know that he was still here. Fighting for his life. I leaned a little on his pillow and began lightly stroking his silky hair. I figured that would be the least painful place I could touch him. Just that morning I ran my fingers through those same strands for entirely different reasons.
“A-Angel,” his voice was between a croak and a whisper, causing me to jump.
“Hi, baby.”
“I’m sorry, Angel,” he said, then paused, face contorting.
“Sorry for what?”
“Scaring you like this.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“No, I mean it, Angel. I got sloppy at the warehouse. Should’ve checked the roof as I was inspecting the hallway for people.” He paused, coughing and then grimacing.
“Shshshsh. Don’t do that. You were doing your job, baby.” I tried to shush him as every word seemed as if it pained him, but he kept talking.
“Remember that night I took you to that overlook? Where we spent the whole night listening to calls over the radio, and you asked me to describe what each of the codes meant? The night you dry humped me in my backseat?”
In spite of myself, I let out a giggle.
“That was the night I knew. I knew you were it for me, Angel.”
“That was our fourth date.” I smiled down at him through watery eyes.
“I told you we fall quick and hard in my family. I might not have acquired my dad’s passion for finance and business, but when it comes to claiming the women we love, I’m his son.”
I let out a small laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, my lips barely grazing his skin. I was too afraid to cause him any more pain.
“That’s not right. I need a real kiss. Right here?” He slowly lifted his hand and pointed to his lips.
Not wanting him to strain because it looked like he was actually trying to lift his head to reach my lips, I lowered to him, brushing my lips over his. I tasted the salt from my tears.
“Don’t do that. Angels aren’t supposed to cry.”
I squeezed my eyes tight, willing the tears away. You need to be strong for him. My brother’s words echoed in my mind.
“A week after that date is when I started shopping for that ring on your finger.”
I inhaled sharply, stunned. Lifting my left hand, I stared at the beautiful diamond ring.
“Are you serious?” I asked above a whisper.
“As a heart attack. Took me about a month to decide on that one, but I’m glad I did. That ring was made for you.”
I think he smiled, but it came out as more of a grimace due to his swollen face.
“I remember thinking, ‘if she’s willing to sit out with me all night listening to calls, she’s going to make one hell of a firefighter’s wife.’ That was the night I decided, but I was patient, letting you come around to the idea.” He had to stop when he began coughing, his face crumpling in pain every time.
“Baby, stop talking. You need to rest,” I implored, wanting to keep him as calm and in as little pain as possible.
“Wait,” he breathed deeply, and my heart ached from how much it looked like it hurt him. My big, strong firefighter was struggling just to get air into his lungs.
“I need to say something else.”
My normally quiet man was full of words right then, it seemed.
“The cake …”
I looked at him quizzically but remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve been thinking about our wedding cake. I know this morning I told you it didn’t matter, but I’ve changed my mind. I loved the vanilla bean cake with the white icing, too. That’s the one that has my vote.”
A damn wedding cake was the absolute last thing on my mind at the moment, but if that’s the one he chose so be it.
“Okay, baby. We’ll go with the vanilla bean cake.”
“We’ll have it at the wedding and our one year anniversary,” he reminded me.
Another sheet of tears coated my eyes, and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Y-yup. Whatever you say, baby.”
“Good. Okay,” he said with so much conviction as if it was a promise. “Oh wait, one more thing,” he added.
“Baby, you need your rest.”
“I know, but this is important … I love you, Angel. I don’t remember if I told you this morning, so I’m telling you now. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I told him, leaning down and burying my nose into his hair. I inhaled against the familiar scent, and then the world closed in on me. The monitors above me started going haywire. I pulled back and saw that not only were Eric’s eyes now closed, but his head was also slumped down in a way that it wasn’t when I first walked in.
“Oh God!” I cried.
Doctors and nurses began rushing in, alerted to his condition by the monitors.
“Pulse is thready!”
“Blood pressure is low!”
I stood there until I was pushed aside.
“Ma’am, you can’t be in here,” a stern female voice sounded off in my ear.
“W-wait, I’m his fiancée. What’s happening?” I knew I was in the way, knew the hospital staff needed as much space as possible to do their jobs, but I just couldn’t leave him.
“Ma’am, let us do our jobs,” the woman said again, pushing me outside of the room.
I started to go back in when a hand on my wrist stopped me.
“Angie, they have to help him now.”
I didn’t even acknowledge my brother’s words. I couldn’t. But thanks to his firm grip, I remained where I was. Seconds later, the hospital room door flew open and Eric’s bed was brought out, doctors, nurses, and hospital staff surrounding it, yelling so many different things I couldn’t make anything out. I could tell by the tone of their voices, however, that it was serious. Dire. My knees buckled when my eyes fell to an unconscious Eric in the bed. His skin had taken on an ashen color.
Again, Sean was there to hold me up. When they disappeared down the hall with Eric, I fell into Sean’s chest, tears flowing freely. The memory of what Eric told me in the room just minutes ago came flooding back. The memories of our third date and when he knew he fell in love with me. The shopping for my engagement ring. All things that it seemed he wanted me to know.
“Please no!” I cried heavily as the realization sunk in. He was telling me everything he wanted me to know before he died.