Leaving Normal (27 page)

Chemistry Test

Boise Fire Station No. 13 was located near downtown, a redbrick building built in 1951 and remodeled in 1994.

Natalie viewed the firehouse through Tony's eyes as he took her in through the main entry.

"See that Dalmatian?" He motioned to a three-foot-tall, black-and-white-spotted ceramic dog sitting by the front door. "The cost of that's in the city budget. All the stations have them."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep."

They proceeded past a type of library, and then the hallway cut left and right, as well as straight ahead. Tony went straight and she followed.

The Guns and Hoses hockey game had just ended, and they'd left the Bank of America Centre right after and come to the firehouse. The fire department had won, and several of the guys who worked at Station 13 and played on the team had wanted to stop by, see the guys on shift, and celebrate their victory. Rocky, Tony's friend, had come along, too, with a brunette who'd watched him at the game tonight.

Natalie had watched the game with the wives and girlfriends. It felt strange, as if she were an outsider to a small community established with longtime friendships. It wasn't as if the women treated her poorly. To the contrary, they were friendly and nice, asked her questions, told her Tony was a good guy.

She met Wally's wife. She was petite, dark-haired and wore bangs. Natalie liked her right away. They sat beside one another and talked when the noise level permitted.

Watching Tony speed across the ice wearing a jersey evoked a feeling of pride in Natalie. She was proud of him, and of the way he gave his time for a good cause. And very glad she had been there to cheer his team on.

She'd kept her gaze fastened to Tony as he wielded his hockey stick, shot the puck into the net to score a goal. She couldn't believe he could be so agile, so fast and accurate. He amazed her.

Watching him, warmth had seeped across her skin, making her tingle. Her heart swelled and she'd suddenly felt tears burn behind her eyelids. She rapidly blinked them away. She hadn't been sad or upset, just hit by overwhelming feelings.

She told herself she had only gone to have fun. That that's what she needed to do. Not think things through and get so serious. Just enjoy, let herself be in Tony's company and not worry about anything else.

But last week on her porch, she had wanted more. So much more.

When he didn't kiss her, she was disappointed. She shouldn't have been. No strings attached, no "dating."

That's what she'd told herself she wanted. Why then had confusion assailed her when he left her without a quick brush of his lips against hers?

She followed him down the hallway toward a row of rooms on both sides.

'This one's mine when I'm on shift." He came to the end of the hall and showed her a room with a twin bed, a television and floor heater. The bed was unmade; no sheets or pillow. A man's unzipped duffel was strewn on the floor, a pair of tennis shoes tossed in the corner.

"Doug Frye is working tonight. He uses the room when I'm not in it. He hasn't made the bed yet. Probably will sleep on the mattress and throw a blanket over himself." Tony chuckled.

"You don't get bedding?"

"Sure. It's in the linen closet. The sheets are taken off after every shift and each guy has to make his own bed. Frye's probably in the TV room watching
Blind Date
."

Tony took off his jacket and threw it on the bed. "You can set your purse and coat in here. Nobody will bother it."

She put her purse down, slipped out of her wool coat and red scarf. Tonight she'd worn comfortable jeans and a simple cashmere sweater in a pale shade of green; she didn't have fanfare from Sarah and the girls when it came to getting ready. Natalie had drawn part of her hair back in a clip, selected silver hoop earrings and applied light makeup.

"It's kind of cold in here," she commented.

Before she could react, Tony ran his strong hands down her arms in an effort to warm her up. It didn't take but a few seconds. Sometimes all he had to do was look at her and her skin grew heated.

With his hands on her shoulders, then slipping down her arms, he explained, "Some guys like it cooler, so you have to have extra heat. I don't remember where I got that heater. It's mine. I just leave it here."

"Oh," was all she could manage, distracted by his closeness. His hair was damp at the ends from a shower he'd taken after the game. She could smell the fragrance of shampoo and soap on him.

He stopped warming her up, but didn't step back. Her chin rose and she met his gaze. She couldn't think, couldn't move. She just stood there and waited, hoped that maybe now he'd kiss her.

But he didn't.

And she had to remind herself once more that it was fine that he did not. More than fine…okay. She drew in a breath of much-needed air.

"So what else is there to show me?" she asked, collecting herself.

"Come on."

He went down the hallway once more. They passed a closet and he opened the doors. "Stuffed animals."

"Hmm. What for?"

"When there's an accident involving kids, we give a stuffed animal out at the scene. It helps calm them down, gives them something to hold on to."

"Good idea."

"Here's the sheets." He pointed to neatly folded white linens.

Tony moved on, walked past a small desk. "This is the library."

There was a shelf, cupboards, a desk with an old computer, some fire manuals and training books.

"We keep copies of
International Fire Fighter
here."

She listened to him, watched as he walked around the room. She tried to keep her mind focused on what he was saying and not let rampant thoughts about how great he looked get away from her.

He wore a long-sleeved navy T-shirt with Boise Fire Dept. in white lettering across his broad back, faded jeans and black, gym-type tennis shoes. His hair was cut short and combed away from his forehead. When he pointed to a painting on the wall, she focused on his hand. An abrasion ran across several knuckles.

"This guy lives in Meridian. He paints pictures for the fire stations."

"It's really great."

"Yeah, he works out at Gold's Gym. I see him in there every once in a while." Moving ahead of her, he said, "The weight room is down this way."

Seeing Tony in his element, observing the emotion in his expression as he talked about the things around him, what mattered to him, allowed her to have a better understanding of who he was, what he valued and what his code of ethics was. He had people who cared about him; his character was obviously placed in high regard.

She realized they were more similar than different. Both of them put all their effort into the jobs they worked. Pride in what they did was important, and they clearly got a feeling of satisfaction out of doing what they did. While she didn't save lives or put out fires, there was a similarity in their strengths and in the way they viewed things. Perhaps even how they wanted then-lives to be.

Where he was physically strong, she could be emotionally strong at the times when she had to be—her latest encounter with her surgery had really tested her. Where she had the memories of raising a child, he wanted to create the same for himself. She saw self-assurance in everything he did, yet all the while he sought a relationship he had never had before. She knew that about him from how he'd talked about his ex-wife that day she'd brought him wine. He hadn't come out and said it, but she'd read between the lines.

He wanted to make himself a better person so that he could be ready to find real love. She understood this, too. He wanted more than what he'd had in his marriage.

It amazed her how she began to see this clearly when she wasn't fighting against the two of them being any more than friends. There were more commonalities between them than dissimilarities. Accept for one big issue. A baby.

For now, she just took in everything he showed her and she let her imagination picture him in the weight room working up a sweat. Or just walking the hall wearing his fireman uniform.

They came upon the captain's room. "I work with Captain Palladino when I'm on A Shift. Just like the firefighters, he swaps out his room with the other captains who come on and off duty. The captains have their own bathrooms."

"What do you do if you're in the shower and a call comes?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.

He grinned, that irresistible grin she had come to recognize wasn't always accidental, but well timed to make her blush. "If we come back from a bloody call or mostly a fire, we shower." It suddenly felt as if he stood too close to her; heat fanned across her collarbone, up her neck. "I can take as many cold showers as I want. We also shower after our workouts. So I could be wet and naked two or three times a day."

"Oh." Her response didn't sound all that coherent to her. She would have taken a step back, but she realized the wall was blocking her on one side and Tony was right in front of her.

In a lowered voice, he went on, "I have gotten caught by a call. You just rinse off fast and get dressed wet and run out."

"Oh," she repeated, swallowing.

The corners of his mouth curved higher. "Come on." He laid his arm over her shoulder and steered her in the direction he wanted to go. "I'll show you the engine."

The garage was a large and tall expanse of space that housed an old red Hummer used for brush fires in the foothills, a workbench area with tools, and of course, the fire truck—rather, the engine.

It was a monstrous thing. She'd never looked inside one before and Tony took her to the driver's door that was ajar.

"You're going to run down the battery," she commented, thinking an open vehicle door would do that.

"Nope. Shoreline." He pointed to a thick cable plugged into the cab of the engine. "Get in."

She reached for the chrome handles and lifted herself onto the seat. A smile found its way on her mouth, her pulse kicking into a faster beat.

"I've been driving lately," he said, pulling himself up next to her and standing on the diamond-plate platform.

Sitting in the big engine gave her an awesome feeling. No wonder he liked it so much. So did she.

A small hula girl was propped on the dash. She reached out with her fingertip and swung its grass skirt. "Yours?"

"I don't know who put that there. It's been on this engine for as long as I can remember."

"What are all the buttons for on that panel?"

"Lights." Leaning over her to switch them on, his muscular upper arm connected slightly with the side of her breast. She sat still, hardly daring to breathe. "Warning lights—master, light bar, wigwag—makes the headlights wobble—intersection lights and rear beacon."

She tried not to let the smell of him affect her senses, but he smelled so good. He was too close. Pushing herself back into the seat to give them a wedge of space between, she tried to stop her heart from hammering against her ribs.

"Uh, when you're not driving, do you sit in the passenger seat?" she asked.

"Nope. That's for the captain. I sit in back."

He got down, held out his hand to help her down from the high seat. She noticed how smooth his fingers were around hers. How warm, strong. It was all she could do not to slip her arms around him.

He looked into her face with brown eyes, his smiling catching her unaware. "What are you thinking?"

"Um, just thinking how exciting it must be to go on a call."

"Yeah, every time that buzzer goes off, it's an adrenaline rush."

"I can only imagine."

Tony showed her the rest of the engine, the corners of the garage and the duty list. She found everything fascinating.

She found him fascinating.

They returned inside and he took her into the kitchen were a group of firemen sat around a Formica table. Some were on duty and some were not. They'd played on the hockey team.

The room was large and bright with a patio that led into the dark night. She could see the edge of a gas barbecue through the glass. The sinks were spacious and a dishwasher was located along the wall next to a refrigerator.

It looked like a normal kitchen with a full-size stove, but there were many more cupboards. Some had locks on them. She noticed an ant trap on the floor, but thankfully didn't see any ants. A large plastic container of a weight-lifting supplement drink was on top of the fridge.

Off duty, Wally Walcroft sat next to his wife and Natalie was introduced to the men on shift.

"That's hoseman Burt Schmitt, driver Doug Frye, Captain Henrico George—but we call him Captain Rico."

"Hi," the captain said, a can of diet cola before him. He was a dark-complected man, probably in his mid-fifties, with a thick head of black-and-silver hair.

"What did you ladies make for dinner?" Rocky asked with an easy grin, his hand looped through his date's hand. The woman was attractive, and she'd fit right into the lively group, joking with Rocky.

Natalie didn't im mediately get the "ladies" reference, but soon gathered it was a quip against the firefighters being domestic.

Doug replied, "Captain Rico made stuffed Cornish game hens."

"Did you get out the fine china for it?" Rocky teased.

"You got that right, Rocky." Captain Rico leaned back in his chair. "You're just pissed because the ladies at your station only know how to punch a button on the microwave."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Tony asked her.

"Ice water would be fine."

It felt a little strange to have him wait on her when what he did here for his duties was so much more important. She felt as if she should get it herself. Perhaps he read her mind because as he handed her the glass, he gave a laugh, "Don't worry about it. I clean the toilets and mop the floor."

She smiled. "Okay. Thanks."

Good-natured comments and jokes were exchanged about tonight's hockey game and victory. Natalie listened, added here and there, enjoyed the camaraderie and thought this was a real family. The heart of the fire station was in this kitchen, the lingering smells of spices from this evening's dinner in the air.