Page 18 of Choosing a Forever
Maybe her belly button is pierced. That would probably hurt really bad.
“That’s cool. I’ve never thought much about getting my ears pierced. What do you think? Could I pull off some shiny gold hoops?” I hold my hands up like I’m showing off my ears, and it pulls a small smile from her.
Win.
Her eyes dart around my face before she shrugs. “I think you’d look hot with a piercing.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. If I didn’t work at a station that prohibited jewelry, I’d be looking up the closest piercing shop.
One of the workers brings over our food, and Mack and I tuck in. I feel like time is slipping by too fast for me to actually ask her any questions. I don’t know if she’llagree to have a meal with me again. I need this to go well so she wants to hang out with me again.
“Why do you work two jobs?” I ask, then immediately regret it when she chokes on her sandwich.
After she takes a sip of her drink and is no longer choking, she gives me a sad smile. “Do you want the short answer or the long one?”
“The long one, obviously.” I would listen to her talk for hours.
“Harper has Type I diabetes. Her glucose monitoring is expensive, plus the bi-annual doctor’s visits. We had a little bit of money from my parents’ life insurance policies and my dad’s retirement, but we had to spend a good chunk of it to pay for the funeral. I want the girls to have good college funds and a nest egg for their futures. I work two jobs so Harper canliveand have as normal of a life as possible.”
My heart breaks for Mack. She’s sacrificing so much for her sisters. I admire her resilience, but I wish she didn’t have to work so hard.
“Doesn’t your job offer insurance?”
“Yes, but it’s not nearly enough to cover everything. The system kind of sucks for diabetics.” Mack shifts in her seat, rubbing her hands on her thighs.
“I’m sorry, Mack. I can’t even imagine what you must have gone through the last five years.” I reach across the table and grab her free hand. “I’m sorry I never reached out when your parents passed. I didn’t know about it until recently. I wish I had known sooner so I could have helped or-or—”
“It’s okay,” she interrupts with another sad smile. “If you didn’t know, it’s not your fault. I probably wouldn’thave accepted your help even if you offered. Besides, we hadn’t talked in nearly a decade. I didn’t expect you to reach out.”
I can tell she really, truly means that, and it stings a little.
She’s right, though. I didn’t reach out.
Not because I didn’twantto. I just didn’tknow.
Why does that make me feel even worse? Does she really think she meant so little to me that I wouldn’t try to reach out when she went through something so tragic?
Granted, I haven’t reached outat all.But I think she’s blocked me on Facebook.
“I’m still sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you now?” I ask, and when she pulls her hand away from me, I realize I was still holding it.
And I miss the touch of her skin as soon as it’s gone.
“Unless you can magically change my insurance, no.” She awkwardly chuckles. “But thanks.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, even though I hate that I can’t fix her problems.
“Do you like working at the FD?” she asks, picking up her sandwich again.
“I love it.” I tell her about being a captain and all the responsibility it entails. The training, overseeing station operations, heading emergency responses when I’m on duty. I tell her I tried to be a hotshot, but it didn’t work out. There’s still some adrenaline that comes with the job, but it’s not quite as risky as fighting wildfires. While I liked the fast-paced energy of being a firefighter in California, the slower pace here is nice.
“Wow. That’s really cool. I always thought you’d end up doing something with art, and I know you wanted to be a teacher at one point. How did you end up as a firefighter?”
My smile widens at her mention of my art. I used to draw the most random creatures that would pop into my head. Mack used to ask me to see them at the end of the day, and I’d explain what they were, and she always used to ask when I was going to draw her. I only sketched her a few times, but I never felt I could fully capture her beauty the way I wanted to.
I haven’t gotten out my sketchpad and pencils in a while. Life’s gotten in the way.
“After my mission, I went to school to be a teacher and realized it wasn’t for me. I met Enoch and Nathan in the student ward. They told me I should come check out an EMS class, and I really liked it. The prospect of helping people appealed more to me than teaching bored teenagers the basics of drawing.”
