I pick up Rodney’s letter, or whatever the envelope contains, and turn it over in my hands. The edges are all bent, but the seal remains closed.
He sends a letter every month like clockwork and each one goes straight into the trash. I read the first couple after he went away, expecting an apology. I got the opposite. They were laden with his typical passive-aggressive comments intended to debilitate me. He blamed me for causing the screaming match that led to his arrest and insisted I bail him out. If I did, he’d forgive me and we could have a second chance.
I never once wrote him back, but each letter triggered that old fear of him.
I inhale, then exhale.He doesn’t own me.
I walk over to Maddie’s trash and drop the letter inside.
I’m done with him. But a voice in the back of my mind keeps repeating “he’s not done with you.”
I shove that voice into the darkness, where both it and Rodney belong.
Fake it ’til you make it, right? Does that actually work?
I paste on a smile and hold out my arms as Crew runs right for me. I gather him up, smothering him in kisses until he giggles.
“I love you, Mommy,” he sighs into my neck.
“I love you more,” I whisper.
What would I do without him?
Ten
Ward
Thefirestationisabnormally quiet today, which means something bad is about to happen. Past experience has proven that quiet comes before the storm. It was eerily silent before the shots rang out in Iraq, and I can still feel their effect today. Right in the center of my chest. Like an old scar that acts up just before the storm rolls in.
“Hey, Chief.” I approach the big man in charge. “What’s going on?”
“Not much. Had to put out a few little fires earlier today, but everything is roses now.” Chief Barns is one of the most positive men I’ve ever met. Nothing fazes him.
I’ve pulled babies out of burning buildings and totaled cars, and I can still picture their tiny burned faces, feel the pain in my stomach, knowing one of their parents wouldn’t be coming home with them. After all that we’ve both experienced, how the man can be so chipper eludes me.
“So, it’s good?” I ask slowly.
Chief turns on me and smiles, his mustache poking into his nose. “If you start every day full of fear, that’s all you’ll ever know.”
I almost scoff. “I’m not scared.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re not scared to fight fires. But you fear the pain you’ll take home with you when you’re done.”
Can he see right through me? Am I really such a pansy?
“There’s a difference between being cautious and being afraid.” He pats my shoulder. “One you control; the other controls you.”
I consider what he’s saying. But how do I just forget the past, forget all the pain I’ve witnessed, and blindly embrace the future? I’ve seen the kind of stuff nightmares are made of. I’m not naïve enough to look at the world through rose-colored glasses. I see it through the filth of reality. I don’t waste energy hoping for fantasies.
The alarm blares and I grimace, just like I do every time I hear it.
Chief Barns frowns, then looks at me. “Look for the good today, Ward.”
My eyebrows raise. Look for the good in the new disaster we are walking into?
“I’ll try,” I lie and run to grab my gear. As much as the wreckage hurts me, saving lives is the only way for me to atone for my sins.
If I can save more lives than I destroyed, maybe one day I’ll be forgiven.
