The comment does the trick, and he flashes me a small, grateful smile before sobering and straightening his spine. “There was an accident a couple days ago. It was pretty bad. Nothing we haven’t seen or done before, but this one was…different. I was tasked with freeing a driver—a mother—who had two young boys in the back seat.”
Something passes through his eyes, and suddenly, I wish I wouldn’t have pushed. “Oh no,” I whisper as a lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe.
“Yeah. We were able to get them all extricated, but…” He stops and looks away. “The mom and one of the boys ended up passing away.”
“Oh,” I reply, tears filling my eyes, partially for people I don’t even know, but also for Collin. I know it’s his job, but I can’t imagine being a first responder in a situation like that and having it not affect me. “I’m so sorry.”
He swallows hard and levels me with a gaze. “It’s been weighing on my mind since it happened.”
“I’m sure it has,” I reply, taking a step closer, needing to be near him. “I can’t imagine what you see and do on a regular basis.”
“It usually doesn’t affect me as bad as this, but when it’s a kid?—”
“I honestly couldn’t do what you do.”
“Sometimes it’s a pretty heavy job.”
I nod and take another step forward. He’s now within reach, and even though I shouldn’t touch him, I’m overwhelmed with the urge to provide a little comfort in his time of distress. Placing my hand on his arm, I take one additional small step and hold his gaze. “What you do is very admirable, but it’s heavy. You see some of the worst things possible.”
He nods. “Usually, I can compartmentalize it, which isn’t always the healthiest way to deal with what we see and do, but we have to. But sometimes,” he says, taking a deep breath, “sometimes, it sticks with you.”
“I can see that,” I reply gently. “I’m sorry you had to witness something so tragic, especially the loss of a young life. I can’t imagine what the surviving child and father are going through and will for probably the rest of their lives. It’s not something anyone should have to deal with. We expect to lose loved ones later in life, but when it happens to a child and young mother, it’s unimaginable. It’s traumatic, honestly. For everyone.”
“Yeah,” he replies, giving me the faintest smile.
“Listen, I know we don’t know each other very well, and this might not be the manliest way to handle it, but maybe you can talk to someone? Professionally, I mean. Not that you can’t talk to me and I’d listen, but someone who can truly help you.”
“We have a department doc,” he states, surprising me.
“You do?”
He snorts. “We do,” he confirms. “Not everyone likes or wants to see him, but others find it helpful. I’ve been a few times over the years.”
“Oh, well, good.”
“I’ve already decided to give him a call in a few days if I’m still struggling to sleep.”
“Good,” I repeat, still a little shocked to hear they have a department doctor to help them deal with the heavy stuff. A lotof people don’t like to talk to a therapist, and most definitely won’t openly talk about it.
“But, if I’m being honest, being here has helped me.”
Okay, now I’m super surprised. “What? How?”
He shrugs his shoulders and glances over toward the door. “I don’t know, really. You have a calming way about you.”
I can’t help but snort. “A calming way. Sure. I’m sure my family would be rolling after hearing that,” I reply, shaking my head.
“No, you do. You listen without judgment, and I see nothing but kindness in your eyes. And you’re right, I’m not the only one who is going to struggle with this one. Children can be both the best and worst victims. I’ve had some smile and hug me. One even invited me to his birthday party the next week.”
I chuckle at the image he creates in my mind, of kids being rescued from a burning building or extracted from a car accident and smiling in appreciation on the other side. It’s a much better image than the one he’s dealing with in his head. “Did you go?”
“Hell yes,” he replies, grinning from ear to ear. “A couple of us dropped by with gifts. There was a fire truck cake, and we were the guests of honor, along with the birthday boy.”
We stand here, smiling at each other, and I can’t help but realize how good it feels.
“Thank you.”
His heartfelt words make me pause. “For what?”
