I hop down off the bed and model my leg for Landon to snap some pictures for the boys.
“Oh, by the way, remember when I told you about my dad’s old boss, Captain Sullivan, or Sully as I call him? Well, he called Mom this morning and asked if I could meet him at the firehouse today. I don’t know what it’s about, but I said we would stop in after we leave here, if that’s okay. It’s only a few streets away from Lucinda’s. Since we were already in the city, I didn’t think you’d mind.” I’ve mentioned Sully briefly to Landon before and also how much that firehouse means to me.
“Of course. But do you think you’ll be okay in a firehouse near the engines, and all the guys in their uniform?” I love that he’s always thinking about me and making sure I feel safe.
“Yeah, it’s not my crew or firehouse. There wasn’t even a little twinge of that uneasy feeling when Mom mentioned it this morning. Dad’s firehouse is like home to me.” To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about whether being in a firehouse would be triggering for me until Landon mentioned it. Even now I still don’t feel strange about going after he said it. Which is a good step forward, I think.
“That’s good to hear. I’d love to take you there. It’ll be nice to see where your dad worked, and of course where you started your life as Poppy Bertrum. How about we grab some boxes of donuts to take for the crews on duty too.” He takes his seat again once he’s made sure I’m safely back up on the bed.
“Oh God, you’ll become an honorary member of the Station 27 family for life if you do that.” No matter how much food we have in the firehouse kitchen, it’s never enough. So, sometimes when you’re having a crappy shift, someone turning up withsugar-filled treats can be just the thing to lift your spirits and energy level. It’s the simple things in life that mean the most sometimes.
The door opening ends the conversation as the doctor and nurse appear.
“Okay, we’ve just checked the X-rays, and everything looks perfect. Time to free this poor trapped leg and let your skin breathe again,” the doctor announces, and I can’t help letting out a little cheer, and laughter fills the room. Then they get to work.
“Do you want me to drive you up to the door of the firehouse, let you out, then I’ll go park the car?” Landon asks as we come down Porter Street where the station is.
“No, never park in front of the doors on a firehouse. Especially if the engine is inside. Being held up by even a minute can mean life or death for someone.” I know Landon was only thinking of me and wouldn’t have been there for long. It’s just something I couldn’t do in good conscience. “I’ll be fine to walk. I need to build up the muscles in my leg again anyway. Plus, I’m used to these crutches now, another few weeks won’t matter. Just think how much the muscles in my arms have gotten stronger. I’ll have the best guns in the firehouse.” I push my sleeve up and flex my arm for Landon.
“If that’s the best in the firehouse, then the rest of them need to up their game,” he replies, rolling his eyes at me.
“Wow, rude,” I reply, pretending to be offended, before I punch him lightly on the arm, and we both laugh at his sarcastic joke.
I love this friendly banter we’ve developed between us.
As we drove past the firehouse, I was glad to see both engines parked in their bays, because it means all the crew will be here for me to say hello to. There’s no guarantee for how long, though, because you just never know when the alarm’s going to go off for a call out.
Sully is retired now but is often still hanging out with the guys at the firehouse, usually cooking up something for them while they’re out on a call or joining in whatever the card game is. He says his wife gets sick of him at home and kicks him out for a few hours, but we all know that he just misses the place.
Walking from the car, I can feel my excitement building at seeing my Station 27 family, which is also a relief that there’s no anxious feeling. I never want to be scared to come here. It’s home to me.
“Yo, old Cap, Little Bert is here,” Pointy yells from where he’s putting away one of the partner cutting saws we use to cut through metal and timber when needed on jobs. He was probably just refueling after the last call out. Pointy was the probie under my dad before his accident. He’s always called me Little Bert since I was old enough to remember. My dad’s nickname was the same as mine is now.
“Hey, Pointy, long time no see. I come bearing gifts.” I giggle as I crutch myself in through the open doors.
“Enough of the ‘old,’ thanks,” Sully yells from the back of the garage.
“Well, I can’t call you Cap, because then Cap gets confused. And I’d rather not be on latrine duty, thanks.” Pointy rolls his eyes at me as he yells back. Reaching out, he gives me a quick hug as I get closer, but at the same time, he’s eyeing up Landon who’s standing next to me holding three very full boxes of donuts and cakes. He might have gone a little overboard, but they’ll disappear in a flash anyway.
“Excuse me, I’m the one bearing gifts, don’t hog the glory,” Landon says, lifting the lid of the top box in front of Pointy, and I laugh harder.
“And she brought a crap load of donuts,” Pointy yells again, and I can hear the chairs scraping in the rec room and feet moving toward us.
“Hey?” Landon says.
“Correction, the tall protective-looking dude with her brought donuts.” Pointy is already dipping his hand into the box to grab one.
“Brace yourself,” I say to Landon as the crew swarms him, each taking one from the box, slapping him on the shoulder, and thanking him. At the same time, they’re all checking him out and trying to work out who the hell he is. This firehouse is full of honorary uncles and cousins.
“Hi, kiddo, thanks for coming to visit us.” Sully pulls me into a hug and then glances at Landon. “And who might this man be, trying to bribe the crew into liking him?” he asks gruffly, attempting to act like my substitute father.
“Stop it, all of you, and be grateful for the treats. This is my friend Landon Wood, Mom’s next-door neighbor. He’s been helping me get around since I came home. So, you can all back down, okay?” I try to threaten them all with my stink-eye, but it’s not working.
Landon reaches out with his hand toward Sully. “Hi, Captain Sullivan, pleased to meet you. Poppy has told me a lot about you and this place.”
“You can call me Dennis. Lord knows I’ve told this little one to call me that a thousand times over the years, but she refuses. I suppose I should be just happy that she calls me at all.” He shakes Landon’s hand and then reaches into the box for the last donut. Lucky Landon brought more boxes.
“I call you Cap or Sully, like my dad did. Stop complaining,” I reply, smiling at him.
