Page 74 of Inferno
Instead of answering, Stan helped himself to a forkful of her tiramisu,thenwinked at her before resuming his conversation with Mr. Campbell.
Prissy frowned as a strange unease settled over her.
Seated to her left, Roxanne was saying, “I’ll be so glad when my kids are old enough to stay home by themselves so I don’t have to go through the hassle of finding a reliable babysitter.”
“Me, too,” one of the other wives commiserated. “You won’t believe some of the disastrous experiences we’ve had with sitters.”
“Oh, I can imagine. We’ve got a couple horror stories of our own.” Roxanne sent Prissy an envious look. “You’re so lucky that Manning is old enough to watch his younger brothers.”
Prissy smiled. “When he turned fourteen, we figured he was ready to handle the responsibility. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to accept when our neighbor’s teenage daughter offered to babysit for me tonight.”
Overhearing her comment, Stan turned to stare at Prissy.“Which daughter?”
She met his alert gaze.“Caitlyn, from down the street.While you were out this afternoon, Caitlyn came by and offered to watch the boys tonight. She said she’s trying to earn some extra money for the holidays, so she figured she’d offer her babysitting services to parents in the neighborhood.”
“That was nice of her,” Roxanne said.
Prissy nodded. “She seems like a nice girl, even though I’m not too crazy about the way she dresses,” she added wryly. “But her mother tells me that she’s an honor roll student, and she wants to become an attorney like her father and has already been accepted into Yale.”
“Impressive,” one of the other women remarked. “Sounds like an ideal babysitter tome.”
Prissy smiled. “I know. But I told her that we’re trying to show Manning that we trust him, so—” She broke off as Stan suddenly wiped his mouth with his napkin, dropped it onto the table and stood. She eyed him curiously. “Where are you going?”
“To call and check up on the kids.”
“Oh, I can—”
“No, stay and finish your dessert.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”
The women watched him leave, then sighed and looked pointedly at their husbands. Exchanging guilty glances with one another, the men mumbled dutifully, “Guess we’d better make some phone calls, too.”
“Could you, please?” their wives chorused sweetly.
As the men excused themselves from the table—leaving only Mr. Campbell behind—the women dissolved into laughter.
After dinner, the raffle and silent auction winners were announced, followed by brief speeches from the mayor, the fire chief and other department brass. And then it was time to present the outstanding service awards to the individuals who’d gone above and beyond over the past year.
Awards were given in the categories of Rookie of the Year, Paramedic of the Year, Unit of the Year, and Distinguished Service to retiring members of the department.
Fire Chief Buckner took to the podium to present the final award of the evening. “Last but certainly not least,” he announced in his booming, authoritative voice, “the recipient of the Firefighter of the Year award was chosen by his peers for his exemplary leadership, his commitment to mentoring other firefighters, his compassionate outreach to the community, and for serving bravely and honorably in the finest tradition of the Coronado Fire Department. Without further ado, it gives me great pleasure to present the Firefighter of the Year award to Lieutenant Stanton Wolf.”
As the ballroom erupted into thunderous applause, Stan looked stunned.
Bursting with pride and elation, Prissy cupped his face between her hands andsmoochedhim on the lips. “You won, baby!” she cried excitedly. “You won!”
He grinned broadly at her as Kelvin and Roxanne clapped him on the back while Mr. and Mrs. Campbell beamed like proud parents and urged, “Go on up there and get your award, Stanton.”
As he stood and strode to the podium, the rowdy members of Engine Company 8 drummed their fists on their tables and chanted, “Wolf…Wolf…Wolf…Wolf!”
After shaking hands with the mayor, the fire chief and other dignitaries standing on the stage, Stan accepted his shiny plaque and stepped to the podium amid a flurry of flashing camera bulbs. He appeared slightly dazed as he looked out into the audience.
“Wow,” he began, his deep baritone pouring through the microphone.
An outbreak of lusty feminine whistles sent laughter sweeping over the crowd. But Prissy was too busy gazing at her husband to mind.
When the noise died down, Stan chuckled softly and continued, “As many of you know I’m from Atlanta, where we’re often celebrated for our Southern hospitality. But since moving here and joining the Coronado Fire Department, I’ve learned that the gift of hospitality isn’t just a Southern thing. Thank you for graciously welcoming me and my family into your community, and for allowing me to be a part of this extraordinary family of firefighters.”
The crowd applauded with warm appreciation as he paused to contemplate the plaque in his hand before holding it up. “There’s no greater honor than being recognized by your peers, so I’d like to thank each and every one of you for bestowing this tremendous honor upon me. You know, anyone who’s ever been assigned to double company firehouses can tell you all about the friendly rivalry between engine and truck guys. We like to play pranks on one another and joke about who really has the most important job.Engine,” he coughed into his hand, drawing a hearty round of laughter, guffaws and whistles of agreement.
