I’m not going to change my mind about this. But Lissa deserves to have an actual conversation about it. Not me alternately snapping and stammering at her because I left my heart and all my working brain cells upstairs.
“Okay. I appreciate the lunch,” I say mechanically. “But I should go.”
“Want me to drive you home?”
I shake my head. “Hugh texted that he and James will come by to drop off my truck when I’m ready.”
“Okay.” She hesitates. “Maybe we can talk Sunday? I’m supposed to leave for New York in a couple hours for that shopping trip with my mom, you remember? But it’s only two nights. Or I can postpone! I can come over, and we can hang out. Do… whatever you want.”
“Nah. You should go,” I tell her. “We’ll talk when you get back.”
Lissa lets out a breath. “Okay.”
She leaves me at the table with a big hug and a promise to send pictures from the city. I quickly text Hugh, then go downstairs to greet him in the lobby when he and James arrive a few minutes later.
Hugh’s moving slowly—the effects of the fire coupled with the flu he’s not quite over, no doubt—but James greets me with a smile and a one-armed hug.
“Front row of the visitors’ lot, not a scratch on her,” he says, handing over the keys to my truck. “How’s our boy?”
“A little more than scratched.” I stick the keys in my pocket. “Ames won’t be pulling line anytime soon, but he should make a full recovery.”
“Thank fuck.” Hugh coughs into his elbow. “You seen Greene?”
“No.” My chest goes hot. “Probably for the best.”
He studies my face. “Kid feels really bad about what happened.”
“As he fucking should.” The words come out in a growl. “He ignored direct ordersagain. If I’d suspended him last time, none of this would’ve happened.” I gesture vaguely upstairs, to Ames. “That’s on me.”
Hugh shakes his head. “Now, there’s some bullshit. You gave him a second chance, Rob. Greene fucked up, and he knows it.”
I stare at him for a long moment. “If you’re trying to convince me that two strikes aren’t enough to kick him off our crew?—”
Hugh shakes his head. “Not trying to convince you of anything, buddy. I know Greene’s not ready for this role. Pretty sure he sees the writing on the wall too. So take abreath, okay? Emotions are high right now. Understandably so. But I’m with you here. All of us are.”
James nods.
Tears burn behind my eyes. “Okay.”
My gaze moves around the lobby, where sunshine’s pouring in through the skylights, then down to my hands. One of them’s still covered in nicks and tiny burns from last night, but the ER doc assured me that leaving them open to the air would help them heal faster.
I take a deep breath. “I, uh… I was thinking after I check in on Ames, I’ll head to the station?—”
“No way.” James claps me on the shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“No, but?—”
“If you’re thinking you need to coordinate with the state investigators,” Hugh says, “I already called ’em. They’re sending someone later today. And I’ll handle it.”
“But—”
“Don’t even think about trying to write up your incident report when half the people at the scene are still in bed and haven’t submitted theirs, Robbie. No point.” James shrugs.
That’s… fair. I nod. “With Ames and Greene out, we’ll need to adjust?—”
“I talked to Nat Rivera,” Hugh says. “She recognized the scheduling problem before I did last night and volunteered to have her crews help cover us for the next few weeks, like we did for the Mabel FD a couple years ago, remember?”
“Yeah. Shit.” I push a hand through my hair. “Well, then I guess I’ll?—”
