Angela leaned into me. “He used to repeat that to my mom whenever she got worried. He’d say, ‘just remember, Psalm sixty-six, twelve.’Sean insisted we include it on his headstone.”
I placed the flowers down in between the two graves and stood back, wrapping my arm around Angela’s shoulders. She turned, nuzzling her face into my side, inhaling deeply. A minute later, her head popped up, her eyes peering at me.
“How’d the test go?”
I blinked, having forgotten all about the exam I took just that morning. A grin spread over my lips.
“Ninety-five.”
She gasped, jumping into my arms. “I knew it!”
The passing requirement for the multiple choice section was a score of seventy-five.
“Hear that? I snagged a genius!” she blurted out, turning back to her parents’ headstones.
“My daddy always saiddon’t bring no dummies home, Angie,”she laughed a little.
I laughed, too, at the fake deep voice she put on imitating her father.
“Glad I could fill that requirement for you.” I pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose just because, before wiping away remaining moisture from her tears under her eyes. Turning away from her, I crouched low in front of her parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Moore, I want you both to know I love your daughter very much. She’s going to be my wife one day soon. One day we’ll bring your grandchildren here to meet you. I promise to keep her safe in the meantime.” I took a moment, letting my words settle. They felt so right leaving my mouth, there was no question as to whether or not I meant them. I felt Angela’s hand on my shoulder. I grasped it with my opposite hand and brought it to my lips, standing. Another sheen of wetness coated her eyes, but this time there was a mixture of happiness with the sadness.
I moved her in front of me, wrapping my arms around her slender waist, and resting my chin on her shoulder. She pressed her head into my chest, and our breathing grew in unison. She squeezed my hands and then turned in my arms. We stood that way for I don’t know how long, a peace settling over me.
Chapter Eighteen
Eric
“You heard about the rookie, right?” Don clapped me on the shoulder as he entered the kitchen.
“Yup,” I responded, taking a sip of the coffee I held in my hand.
“So you’re back to drinking the regular stuff like the rest of us, huh?” he asked, pouring a cup from the coffee pot on the counter.
I tipped my mug up to him. “For now.”
“Oh well, another one bites the dust,” he tutted, taking a sip and sitting down at the table.
I waved my head from side-to-side a little. “The job isn’t for everybody.”
“Yeah, kinda figured he didn’t have it in him.”
I made a noise that indicated I agreed. The rookie who was slacking over the last few months finally called it quits. The captain alerted me of the news as soon as I arrived for my shift, calling me up to his office. He also gave me some news about my prospects for becoming a lieutenant. It’s been a month and a half since my exam. I got my essay scores back two weeks after the exam, officially telling me that I passed both parts of the exam. Three weeks later I interviewed at the department headquarters with Captain Waverly, two other captains, and the fire chief himself even sat in on the interview for about thirty minutes. It’s been a waiting game in the weeks since then.
“Where’s Carter and Corey?” The captain’s booming voice pierced the air of the kitchen, cutting off my thoughts.
“Out back, Cap.”
“Go call ’em for me, Don.”
A few of the other guys sauntered into the kitchen, obviously called by the captain as well. Don returned a minute later, Corey and Carter on his back.
“I brought you all in here because I have some important announcements to make. I’m sure you’ve heard by now, there’s been a shakeup here at the station. Michael Zaveri, also known around here are Rookie Number Two, has turned in his resignation. Effective immediately.”
So that was his name.
Not only had his rookie status hampered our ability to get to know him, but the guy was just quiet, and not quiet in the same way I was. He was almost eerie in how standoffish he was. I shrugged my eyebrows, tossing it out as nothing more than his not being cut out for the job. Probably knew it early on, too, but stuck with it to save face. A lot of people weren’t cut out for this job, and the first year fighting fires always exposed the real firefighters from the phonies, if the Academy didn’t get them first.
