Page 15 of Penance
I nodded, my nose burning from all the tears. Picking my way around the glass, I worked my way to her, and she watched me the whole time with a blankness in her eyes I had never seen before. It scared me more than the blood.
When I reached her, I slid down the wall, and she wrapped her good hand around my shoulder, pulling me to her. She stroked my hair in long strokes, never saying a word until I thought my chest might burst from all the questions I was burning to ask.
“He’s not coming, is he, Mommy?” I asked at last when the burning became too much.
Her only answer was a sob, but it was enough. Even at six years old, I knew what it meant, and it changed the course of my relationship with my mom. Somehow, she was no longer holding me. Instead, I held her. With her head in my lap, I stroked her hair and told her everything would beokay. It was my birthday that he was missing, but he had broken her.
I comforted her like a parent should comfort a child, and I’ve often wondered if things would’ve been different if I had never offered her that comfort—if I had forced her to be the parent instead.
We sat on the floor until my butt went numb, and when her sobs subsided, she said something I’ll never forget.
Raindrops had just started to fall outside, hitting the roof in a steady patter, when she lifted her hand, brushed her thumb against my cheek, and said, “Never fall in love, Lily. It’s a penance we all pay but a sin we’ll never be forgiven for.”
I didn’t understand what she meant when I was six, but eventually, I figured it out.
She fell asleep shortly after that, but I stayed up, listening to the rain—a gift to me—because I didn’t have to cry alone when the sky was crying with me.
Chapter 5
Theo
“Unit 1, Engine 2 respond to possible brush fire at 511 Boyer Street.”
Tension knots in my shoulders, and I press my fingers into my eyes. It’s been two weeks since the fire at the community building, and there have been several others since then.
The whole town has gone crazy.
When I first moved to Benton Falls, there were hardly any calls to respond to; now, it seems like we respond every day.
That, in addition to the tension hanging in the air at home, these last two weeks have left me with a headache that won’t go away.
I could probably end most of that tension if I could just give Tanner an answer, but it’s not as simple as yes or no. I need to speak to his doctor. He quit playing football because one more concussion could kill him or, at the very least, do permanent damage. Baseball isn’t as physical as football, but I’m not willing to risk it until I get a doctor’s opinion, which has left Tanner and me in limbo.
He has hardly spoken a handful of words to me in two weeks, and while I feel bad, I’m also his dad, not his best friend. It’s my job to keep him safe.
“Chief, you coming?” Zane Johnson, one of the newer recruits, asks on his way out to the truck.
A smile on his face reveals perfect white teeth as he puts on his gear and waits for my answer.
There’s always a smile on his face.
He’s always happy, no matter the circumstances. The kid missed his calling. Between the blue-green eyes, light brown skin, curls cropped close to his head, and charming personality, he could be one of those fairy tale princes, at least according to Ethel and Muriel. He spends more time fighting off those two at some of our calls than he does fighting the actual fire, but he’s a good fireman. Not that I’d tell him that. It’d go to his head, and it’s already big enough.
Sighing, I head toward my own gear. I don’t have to go out. A brush fire should be pretty simple for the other men to handle—and there is plenty of paperwork waiting on my desk—but I also know that building rapport means going out with my men on both the big and small calls when I can, which, admittedly, is not as often as I like.
“Yeah, Johnson. I’m coming.”
His smile grows wider, and I fight the urge to grind my teeth. My mood is too sour to deal with his incessant happiness today, but I keep my mouth shut and put on my gear because my mood is not his fault.
Once my gear is on, I load up in the truck with Johnson and two other men, and we take off in the direction of the fire. It doesn’t take long before we take a right turn onto Boyer Street, and out the front window, I can already see what we are dealing with.
Even though we are currently in a burn ban because of the dry spell we’ve had, there’s a fire burning in a ditch, fueled by wood and some other things I can’t identify. Several men and a couple of teenagers stand around it, watching and laughing, and I sigh when I recognize one of them.
This call just got a lot harder.
Zeb Ellis is an addict with a penchant for drugs and fire, and the combination has almost been lethal more than once. But the damagehas always been to him and his property—no one else—so he gets away with it.
Placing my hand on the headrest of the driver’s seat where Johnson is driving, I brace myself and turn around to look at the men behind me.
