Page 42 of Bronx

Our burns were treated. The two of us walked up to the ward where the Evan's mother was resting. She was being held overnight for observation. It turned out she had never driven that mountain road at night and had trouble seeing the curves. She realized too late that her night vision was too poor for the twisting road. Her husband was sitting in the room with Evan on his knee.

Evan hopped up. His face had been washed, and he looked far less terrified. "Is it true? You guys parachute into fires?"

I rubbed the top of his head. "You bet."

"Wow, wait till my friends hear."

The woman, Teresa Bleeker and her husband, Owen, thanked us a million times. I took down an address to send Evan some free stuff from the base camp, then Helix and I walked out of the hospital into the night air. It had cooled down considerably. A hot shower was going to be like heaven. Layla had not returned to the room, and I didn't see her anywhere on the ER floor. It was for the best, I told myself weakly, knowing it was not for the fucking best.

"Maybe you should go back inside and find her," Helix suggested.

I laughed dryly. "You pry us apart, and now you're trying to throw us together?"

"Guess I'm trying to appease my guilt," Helix admitted. He put a fist to his mouth to stifle a yawn. "I texted Penelope about what happened, but she's still going to be pissed off that I'm so late. So I'm going to hit it. See you in the morning."

"Yep, and Helix, glad it was you and me out there tonight. It was really fucked having things so frosted between us."

He nodded in agreement and headed to his truck.

I reached my jeep and looked back at the emergency room entrance once more. I contemplated taking him up on his suggestion but talked myself out of it. This was all in Layla's hands now.

32

Nine months later

Ipulled the jeep into the Morgan Lake Recreation Center. Right on cue, Kingston texted asking where the hell I was. This year there was only one rookie to celebrate. Weston Novak had been an awesome pick for the crew. He was definitely going to make his old man proud. He'd stood shoulder to shoulder with the rest of us, fighting back fierce flames that consumed the parched wilderness like hot water on a sugar cube. As usual, we'd found ourselves in the middle of a hot hell, an inferno of triple digit temperatures made worse by the fires and unrelenting wind, and Weston, now called Drifter on account that his landings never quite hit the mark, had stood solidly by the rest of us, dedicated and enthusiastic.

"Be there in a few," I texted back to my impatient friend. I used the few quiet minutes in the jeep to text my mom. Vick had undergone a few tests to see how the clinical trials had been going. It was his second trial. The first had gone along nicely for six months, with tumors shrinking and Vick feeling well enough to ride his horses. The thing with trials though, was as soon as they stopped working, they cut you free. A scan showed some tumor growth, and the trial no longer needed him. My mom had gotten pretty good at doing her own research, and she signed Vick up for another trial. Layla and I hadn't stayed in touch. All of it was too painful. Only, I found out soon enough thatnottalking to her was even more painful. I'd hoped, somewhere along the way, she'd decide to give it another go, but it seemed she just couldn't. The video, having Bulldozer straight up tell her to not date Bronx was all she needed. The breakup was hard on my parents. They were convinced that she was the best woman I could find. I had to agree. Unfortunately, lamenting my loss wasn't going to do me any good. I'd dated a few women in the interim but was always disappointed.

"Any results yet?" I texted. Vick was having his first set of scans since the start of the new trial. He was being more and more realistic about his life and the time he had left, but my mom refused to even consider losing him.

My mom was one of those texters who had to make sure every word was spelled correctly and all the punctuation was something a third grade teacher would be proud of. I rested my head back against the seat and waited for her response. It was going to be another blistery hot day out on the sand. For a millisecond, we'd all considered trying a different location for the annual summer celebration, but nothing else felt right. It was tradition, and so we reserved a section of sand at the lake.

The text came through and I paused before reading it. Bad news would set them back to square one. There were only so many times you could find yourself back at square one before you had to throw in the towel. I noticed a few smiley face emojis, my mom's favorite, before I read the words. It assured me things were all right.

"Scans look good. Several tumors shrank, and two stayed the same size." It wasn't the words I really wanted to hear, that the tumors had been obliterated, but at least it meant he could continue in the trial.

"I'm so glad, Mom. Love you guys."

"Love you too, baby."

Kingston would be scouring the parking lot if I didn't show up on the sand soon. I grabbed my stuff from the back seat and stepped out to the beach. Lynyrd Skynryd was blasting through the speakers. Loud voices and laughter drowned out Van Zant. The usual shade tents had been set up. King was sitting on his red striped beach chair. As I spotted him, he nearly fell headfirst into his personal ice chest as he leaned over to fish out a soda. Splotches of white cream were all over his shoulders and face, and he had an old straw hat forced down over his cropped hair.

"Can't believe the women aren't hanging all over you. You look like my grandpa with all that cream and your personal ice chest."

He grabbed some ice from the chest and flung it at me. "I keep getting sunburned. Think I'm getting old or something. When I was young, I could sit on the beach for hours, building sandcastles and catching crabs. The sun never bothered me. Now, I'm like a fucking Victorian woman whose skin hasn't seen the light of day. What the fuck took you so long? Hey, you gonna swim out to the island? It's tradition," he added.

"For who?" I asked and dropped my chair.

"Hey, Bronx," Angus called from the barbecue area. He had a plate piled high with hot dogs. "You gonna swim to the island?"

I looked over at Kingston. "What? Is there a shark out there or something? Everyone wants me out in the water."

Jane trudged by holding the hand of one of her kids. Nathan was ten and didn't look too pleased to be dragged along, holding hands with his mom. From the look on both their faces, someone was in trouble. That didn't stop Jane from tossing out the same suggestion as everyone else. "Bronx, fashionably late as always. Water's nice. You should take a swim to the island."

I followed her with my eyes as she continued on, not waiting for a response. She sat Nathan down on a towel. He crossed his arms and legs and put on a proper ten-year-old pout.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked as I helped myself to a soda from King's ice chest.

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