Page 81 of Book and Ladder
“This stays between you and me.”
“You have my word.”
I stare at Cody, sizing up his capacity for secrecy. He stares back, assuring me he’s got my back. One thing about fighting fires together, we learn to read each other. Never did I think I’d be staring across a table, ready to release my most prized secret.
I lower my voice. “You know I like books.”
“Mm hmm?”
He doesn’t tease me.
“Well, I have a podcast.”
Cody sets his fork on his plate and folds his arms. “A podcast?”
“I talk about books.”
“On a podcast? When do you have time for that?”
His tone is filled with more awe than condemnation.
“My days off.”
“You’re kidding me. That’s pretty awesome. Was that the weird part? You podcasting?”
“No. The weird part is …”
I’m about to tell him about M&M, but then I hesitate. I can’t explain why. He just encouraged me to pursue Daisy. Besides, something about my relationship with M&M feels fragile and intimate. Like sharing about her would pop the little bubble she and I have been sharing.
So, instead of telling Cody about M&M, I say, “Yeah. That’s basically it. I just didn’t think you’d react the way you did.”
“How did you expect me to react?”
“I’m used to people teasing me for my love of literature. I figured you might go more in that direction.”
“Well, I think it’s cool. I can’t imagine all it takes to pull together a podcast—just the tech side alone. Doing that alongside your job as a firefighter? I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.”
“You could have listeners right here in this diner,” Cody says, looking around.
“I hadn’t thought of that.” My eyes rove from table to table.
Cody smiles. “Sure could.” He tips his chin toward a table of our seniors. “Could be them.”
Something about the way he says it makes me think of M&M. The idea of her being someone with AARP benefits makes me laugh loudly enough to draw some stares.
The next morning, we’re doing our workout when the postman shows up. He parks his truck at the curb outside the window of the station gym.
“Mail!” Dustin shouts.
“Calm down. We’re not in the military, man,” Cody says. “We get personal mail at our own homes.”
Dustin grabs his hand towel, wipes his brow and walks out into the bay to see what came in.
“Packages!” he shouts in to us and then he returns to the gym carrying two medium-sized boxes.
He sets them on the weight bench and tears one open.
