Page 7 of Smoke and Fire
Bastian:Just arrived.
Hernandez:Dinner tomorrow, my place. Dagny’s cooking, so you won’t die.
Bastian:Thanks. See you then.
Relief swept through me. Hernandez always gave me a few hours of alone time to set my life back to rights before he had me come over.
He always invited me for dinner in between fires, though. He must watch for the obnoxiously green buggy parked in front of the fire station, because he always knew when to text.
Fire season felt like living along the edge. I could dodge whatever life threw at me, but it left a vague sense of running away behind. Not to mention the worsening fallout when I returned to utter, ignored chaos.
Hernandez:How’s your sister?
Bastian:Getting what she needs.
Hernandez:Dad?
Steam billowed out of the rolling boil of water that cooked the noodles. I flipped the knob on the stove a little too forcefully when I turned off the frying pan and the knob dropped onto the stove top. I frowned at it. I replaced the knob with a roll of my eyes, then slid the hot pan onto an empty coil.
Slightly calmer, I returned to the phone.
Bastian:Same. Worse.
Hernandez:Sorry, brother. I’m always here.
I grabbed the sausage, dumped it on a plate, then poured a can of uncertainty-aged marinara sauce into the noodles I’d just drained. While I ate, I completely avoided my computer and the blinking, giant red strobe lights in my brain.
Must. Do. Something. Now.
Disasters waited in my inbox. Bigger disasters than I wanted to admit.I would take care of them, just not right now.
Tomorrow would have to be soon enough.
3
DAHLIA
Red hair appeared in the doorway of the coffee shop the next day, seconds before the door tinkled open. I hummed and bopped to a song when Lizbeth shuffled inside. A basketball-sized belly preceded her.
She smiled wearily.
“Hey.”
Instantly, I hustled over. “Sit down, Mama. You look tired.”
She sighed, seemed to think of protesting, but obeyed. Her hands-on-the-back-shuffle waddle killed me. Adorable. Utterly miserable. Whatever you wanted to call it, late pregnancy looked like it totally sucked. Once she settled, I grabbed another chair for her to put her feet on.
She smiled.
“Thanks. You always seem to know just what I need.”
“I got you, sister. Vanilla frap with extra whip cream and two cherries on top?”
Lizbeth grinned with all her teeth.
“Exactlywhat I wanted.”
I fist pumped. “Nailed it.”
