“Good response. I’m proud of you.”
Did I just think I was proud of myself? I rolled my eyes and went to the locker room to shower and change so I could meet Kyle and Brooke at Fresh Catch, a seafood restaurant where we all used to work when we were in college.
When I walked out of the gym, I started to cross the street to catch the bus going in the right direction. I glanced both ways and stepped off the curb.
“Step back onto the sidewalk and go down to the crosswalk. You’re gonna get yourself smashed on the street, and then what?”
I stopped in the street and glanced both ways in time to see a firetruck speeding out of the station at the top of the hill. I ran to the sidewalk as it whizzed by, lights flashing and sirens blaring while horns were honking.
“Told ya.”
I bent over at the waist and propped my hands on my thighs as I fought to catch a breath. That voice in my head was right. I’d faced death once and was pulled back from the brink.
If I went through all of that only to get run over by a firetruck, then what? How much would my donor have sacrificed for nothing?
Chapter Two
Holden Rose
“Damn, that guy nearly got picked off by that firetruck. I realize there might be a deadly fire, but shouldn’t taking out pedestrians figure into the mix?”
My heart was in my throat as I watched the firetruck not even brake as it barreled down Ballwin Lane where a blond guy was crossing the street outside the crosswalk. The sidewalk on the north side of the street where he’d come out of a gym was under construction, so I could see his point, but damn that was a close call.
“Smoke looks like it coming from the direction of the port. There’re a lot of warehouses over there where homeless people sleep this time of year when it’s so damn cold.” Steve Roper, my business partner, pointed out the window of our work truck as we finished our late lunch in the parking lot of a fast-food joint.
I was a quarter owner of Tire and Track Rescue, a tire and track link repair business for heavy duty construction and paving equipment. If necessary, we’d bring replacement tires to a job site, but that required more than just Steve and me. That was at least a four-man job... I shouldn’t say man because our third business partner, Shelby, was a woman. She was a bodybuilder, and a competitive weightlifter who could kick all three of our asses without breaking a sweat.
Ours wasn’t a glamorous job, but we were one of only two such businesses in the state of Maryland. Sometimes, we traveled to DC, Virginia, or Pennsylvania if needed. Shelby worked with our fourth partner, Homer, who was also a wizard on hydraulic motors, which was sometimes needed. The work was hard, but none of us would trade what we did for a desk job.
I tossed the trash and started the truck, backing out of the spot to get back to work. “Yeah, I hope we can get this one fixed in a hurry. My old bones don’t like being out on days like this.” Steve glanced at the GPS on his phone. “Turn right in a mile.”
We were on the way to a housing construction site outside Waldorf, Maryland, where an asphalt paver had a broken track we needed to repair. It had snowed about two inches, which had melted, but the ground was wet, so we were going to be freezing when we finished.
It was the type of afternoon that reminded me of one of the worst nights in my family’s lives. I had to get those thoughts out of my head before I couldn’t do the job we were being paid handsomely to do.
Four hours later, well after dark, we were soaked as we drove back to our little corner of Baltimore, I couldn’t wait to get home. We had both worn our insulated coveralls, but after rolling around in the mud trying to repair the track, I asked myself if it was really worth it.
“You goin’ home for Christmas?” Steve asked.
Christmas was a tough time for my family. Every year I told myself I wasn’t going to Manassas for the holidays, but in the end, I gave in and went to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve in the afternoon and stayed until the day after. All we did was sit in the family room and watch old home movies of Holly’s dance recitals from when she was still with us. My sister died in a car accident at twenty-three.
It was almost like a family grief purge the way we carried on, but it had been going on now for seven years. I believed it wouldn’t be what my sister wanted for those of us left behind.
“I haven’t decided for sure, but I’ll probably give in and go like always.” I already knew I would.
“Maybe you should hire a therapist to go with you. If your parents won’t consider going to one, maybe you should just take that guy you’ve gone to see a few times.” Steve knew everything about me and my issues. I didn’t keep secrets from him, Shelby, or Homer. We were partners, and the key to our success was open communication.
“Dr. Thomas? Huh. That would probably be the best gift I could give them.”
I changed lanes to get into the far left in hopes of getting through the sea of red taillights as I drove us back to Cedars, a sleepy little suburb west of Baltimore.
I drove myself home first so Steve could take the truck back to the shop and pick up his Corvette, or as I called it, his mid-life crisis. I hopped out and grabbed my coveralls from behind the seat to launder and dry for the next day.
After a wave to Steve, I let myself into my small brick house, took off my boots to carry them to the mudroom, and flipped on the front porch light. “Oscar!”
The clicking of puppy nails on the hardwood made me smile, as did his tail going a hundred miles an hour. He was my rescue dog—part dachshund and part God only knew, though I believe he rescued me more than I rescued him.
He was a low rider, with legs about three inches long, a fat belly that nearly brushed the ground, and a loving demeanor that was great to have waiting for me at home.
