“Zellner,” I repeat with the tone Seinfeld used to sayNewman. No matter how well Thad knows Karson, he must have known Amber better. “Where’s his ex-wife now? You were friends with her, right?”
Thad gives a sad shrug. “We worked together for Citizen’s Safety Academy. She shared that she thought the police job was getting to Zellner emotionally, and she hoped a career change would do him some good. She asked me to talk to him about becoming a firefighter, but apparently that didn’t go over too well. I haven’t seen her since, but I see her stuff on social media sometimes.”
“Huh.” That story sounded a little different from the one I’d heard. Though if she became an influencer, that career definitely has to do with image.
Thad looks down before meeting my gaze. “I didn’t mean to upset Zellner when carrying you the other day. I never meant to one-up him or anything.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about you. It’s not even about Amber. It’s about him being able to see me for me.”
“I appreciate that.” He pats the steering wheel. “Relationships take the same teamwork as it does to drive this fire truck. While the pump trucks are shorter and easier to maneuver, this one has the ladder that’s going to get you where you need to go, but you can’t drive it without trusting another driver back here.”
The analogy fits. It’s the image of the kind of relationship I want to have. “That’s really good. You could be a writer.”
“Oh, I am,” he says.
Man, maybe I should have fallen for him. He’s perfect.
“I’m writing a chili cookbook for firemen.”
Okay, there’s no perfect man. I shake my head. “Not what I meant.”
“I know, but love is like chili.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Both are spicy.”
I groan. “Painful.”
“My joke or spicy chili?”
“Love.” I give a little huff and wish it was a genuine laugh.
He winces in empathy. “I don’t know if you believe in God, but His love is the only perfect love. It’s the kind that redeems when the love we’d hoped to get from other people lets us down.”
Even though I don’t like it or know what that looks like for me, I have to agree. And perhaps my agreement itself is the beginning of healing. “Thanks for the reminder. Can I pay you to write my screenplay?”
He laughs for real. “Come on. I’ll show you a few other trucks that you might be able to use in your movie.”
We head into the station, where Thad points out different configurations of trucks. Besides holding water, they have compartments that hold equipment. And people. We climb the steps into the back of one cab similar to the truck I drove with my roommates.
A bell sounds. Thad jumps to attention. “I might have to go. Wait here while I check.” He jogs away.
I guess that even though he’s teaching a class, he still has to respond to emergencies. I look out the giant garage door to see if there’s any smoke in the distance, but as the sky is already gray, it’s hard to tell.
I’m ready to go home, but I have to wait for Kai and Charlie. And I don’t want to get in the way of the sudden activity in the garage. Sinking back into the far cabinet seat, I wish Karson were here with me.
I wonder how he met Amber. Was it from working in the same office? Did they sit back here together at one of these classes? Did he teach her to shoot?
My stomach constricts at the idea of Karson romancing someone else, and I feel a little dizzy. I press a palm against the cool metal of the side of the interior, and it vibrates under my touch. I sway as the truck rolls forward. I guess they are letting my classmates practice driving this truck now.
A siren jolts me from the stories I’m mentally writing. I blink and peek around the equipment locker to look through the window into the driver’s seat. It’s not Charlie behind the wheel. It’s someone else in full fireman garb.
I don’t recognize the classmate driving, so I squint to try to place him. He’s got a weird mustache. And he’s heading the wrong way. He should be winding through cones, not taking off toward the street.
My pulse lurches as we bump onto the road and my reality sets in. I grip the edge of my seat.
My mind whirls like a tornado. Thad told me to stay put.But I don’t think we’re in class anymore, Toto.
Do I bang on the glass to get the driver to stop, or would that delay them from saving lives in time? How far could they be going? Will everyone be safer if I sit here and keep my mouth shut?
While I’d caused some trouble on the police side of Citizen’s Safety Academy, I’ve never been in this much trouble before. I make Ramona the Pest look good.
