Page 6 of The Trauma Response
“You did not make us grilled cheese,” I say, working hard to ignore how freakishly gorgeous this man has grown to be. Seriously, he was cute and loveable in high school, but this man is, well, amannow. And it does things to my stomach that I choose to ignore because I have enough to manage right now without adding a ridiculous crush on my firefighter hero slash childhood friend to the list.
“I did. Soup is already on the table. Dig in,” Caius says and sets the plates around. The rest of the guys swarm to the kitchen, and I realize we’ve been corralled into mealtime at the firehouse.
“Good thing we brought dessert,” Jackson says and holds up the brownie tray. The two must have really reconnected while waiting in the ER together. Jackson didn’t mention any long conversations with Cai, but I was too woozy on drugs to remember much of anything.
“Please tell me these are your mother’s double fudge brownies with caramel sauce?” Cai asks, pausing mid-sit with a cocked eyebrow.
“Of course.” Jackson shrugs and slides them across the table.
“It’s been too long since I’ve had Mrs. Whitmore’s food, and I’m not sure I can control myself when I pull back this aluminum foil.” Rather than eat his lunch first, Cai digs into the brownies. As always. The guy could never say no to Mom’s baked goods, but it certainly won’t impact that chiseled firefighter physique whose silhouette seems perfectly enhanced by his dark blue uniform tee.
Focus, Tulip. Eat grilled cheese. Thank everyone for rescuing you, and get out.
“Well, Tulip has been stuck at Mom and Dad’s for the last eight weeks, and Deni thought I should get her out of the house. I’ve wanted to stop by and catch up some more, so here we are,” Jackson says.
Caius bites his lip and my eyes flutter down to them like a moth to a flame. “Deni is…your wife?” he asks, hesitating.
I guess theydidn’tspend much time catching up at the hospital.
“Oh, yeah, man I guess it has been a long time. Denise and I met in our last year of college. You’ll like her. She’s driven and focused, a lot like Tulip, but she’s—”
“If you say she’s nicer than me, I will smack you.” I cut my eyes toward my brother. Yes, I am thesunnysibling, but my attitude as of late has a lot to do with, I don’t know, flipping my car and potentially ending my career as a surgeon.
No. No, I won’t think that way. I will be back in the operating room one day, and my attitude will flip back to the sunny-side-up Tulip everyone knows and loves…mostly.
Everyone chuckles, including Cai. “I can’t imagine you being less than sweet and sunny. That guy, though, was always the grump. I doubt that has changed much, if at all.” He motions toward Jackson.
“It hasn’t. Not even a little. Don’t let him make you think otherwise,” I say, cutting another glare toward my brother. I take a bite of grilled cheese to keep the rest of my thoughts in my head. Like always, it’s gooey and buttery and crispy in all the right places. I remember how much we loved it when Cai made us food. His after-school snacks were to die for.
“How are you doing?” another man asks. “Sorry, my name is Ben Kempler. We met the night of your accident, but you probably don’t remember.”
I take a deep breath. I do remember his face. “You helped pull me out. I remember that. Thank you.”
“All in a day’s work. I hope you’re doing better,” he says.
Jackson looks at me as if to ask how much bad news I’m willing to bestow upon the firefighters who worked diligently to extricate me from the wreckage. I shake my head slightly. Telling Cai would be one thing, but telling all of them that I might never be able to do the one thing I love ever again seems like smacking them in the face. They put their all into saving me, and the knowledge that my life might be changed forever might dampen their spirits.
Jackson heeds my request and says, “Well, she’s doing a lot better. Slow and steady, right?”
“For sure,” Kempler says.
We carry on polite conversation while we eat, then my brother picks up on my subtle hints that I’m ready to go. Oddly, so does Cai and he winks at me before pushing away from the table and clearing our dishes. “I’ll walk you out to the car. Wouldn’t want you to get stuck here if we should get a call.”
“It was good seeing you, Miss Whitmore,” Captain Swanson says and waves us out with a polite smile and chocolate brownie on his chin.
Out in the visitor parking area, Jackson and Caius continue a superficial conversation, primarily about what we’ve been doing for the past decade, until we reach Jackson’s car. I trail along behind trying to refocus and catch my breath. A short visit to a firehouse should not drain me this much, but my body is still in recovery mode even after two months.
“Well, I’m glad you both stopped by. Feel free to come over anytime you want,” Caius says.
“We shouldn’t lose touch again. We’re all back in Denver, so let’s try to meet up sometime,” Jackson says. “I hate that we drifted apart during college.”
“Me too. We should definitely do something, especially if it means I get some more of your mom’s brownies. And cake. And cookies, and everything else she makes.” Caius grins but his eyes focus on me. I’ve been much quieter than usual. Of course, for all he knows, I’m no longer the speed-talking, never shuts up, sunshine and sweetness girl from his past…except that I am, when I’m not miserable. His grin falters and eyes soften, but he doesn’t say anything more.
“I work about sixty hours a week, but I’d love for you to meet Deni. Maybe next weekend?” Jackson asks.
“Ah, I have a forty-eight hour shift next weekend, and this weekend I promised the guys I’d go riding with them. Do you ride?” Caius waves toward a white and red sport bike and hiseyes widen at the prospect of bringing Jackson along on a motorcycle ride. As usual, Jackson dashes them with the most moronic statement imaginable. Sometimes, I think words fall right out of my brother’s mouth without going through his brain for filtration first.
“Not really a fan of bicycles, if I’m honest.” Jackson shrugs.
