I walk for the door and Hunter follows, hitting the light switch on the way out.
We walk into the hallway, and we’re plunged into near-darkness, the only light the fluorescents from the other end of the hall.
For the first time, I wonderwhyhe was outside the bathroom door, at the end of this dark hallway.There are plenty of other bathrooms in the church basement.I don’t ask, though.
“Sorry about the door,” he says as we turn the corner, the lights washing over us.“Sometimes the training kicks in.”
“Pun unintended?”I say, grinning at him.
Hunter chuckles and shakes his head.
“I guess that hasn’t changed either,” he says.
We walk up the stairs to street-level, where plenty of people are still milling around the Methodist Church’s small front yard, some kids playing on the fenced-in swing set.My ankles wobble a little in my heels on the grass, but I stay upright.
As soon as Hunter steps toward the crowd, Iswearevery head turns, and it catches me by surprise.
Old ladies who’ll barely give me the time of day light up like gray-haired Christmas trees.The high school cheerleaders whisper to each other and giggle.Thirty-something moms holding babies give him a long, slow once-over while ignoring their husbands.
He’s a firefighter who just saved the town, I remind myself.The point of this whole dinner was to says thanks to his squadron.Of course people are staring.
Then Nancy Turner, the plump, iron-haired lady who was in charge of giving everyoneexactlythe same amount of spaghetti, waves him over toward her.Hunter looks down at me.
“I wouldn’t refuse if I were you,” I say, even though I’m a little disappointed, and drop my voice to a murmur.“The Ladies’ Auxiliary can cause you pain in ways you’ve never evenimagined.”
“I’ve seen hell, and it’s an endless spaghetti dinner,” he mutters back, waving at Nancy.
She makes an even more emphaticcome over heregesture, and Hunter glances down at me.
“Back me up, will you?”he asks.
Then he starts walking for Nancy without waiting for me to answer.
For a split second, I’m annoyed, irritation flaring through me like gasoline catching fire in a rush.
I guess he still does this too, I think.Just walking into something and expecting me to follow.
But then it fades almost instantly, and I realize I just got annoyed about something that happened eight years ago.
Just pretend this is all brand-new, I tell myself.At least pretend you’re just old friends seeing each other after a while.
Not everything he does is about you.It never was.
I follow Hunter to the throng of ladies, where Nancy already has one hand on his arm and is gushing about him to her friends,allof whom are actually smiling real smiles.
I sure don’t get real smiles from this crowd.
“The fire came within a few miles of Trudy’s house,” Nancy is saying.“She told me she nearly had to evacuate.Had her bags packed andeverything.”
“Thank the Lord she didn’t,” says another woman — Shelly?— who’s got her hand over her heart.
“All those mementos she has,” pipes up another woman.“She’s been collecting those spoons for almost forty years.”
Everyone nods somberly.Then they look at me like they’re noticing my presence for the first time.
“I didn’t know you two were acquainted,” Nancy says, her voice cooling a little.She’s never been a big fan of me, though I’m not sure why.Maybe just because her personality sucks.
Hunter and I look at each other for a moment, then back at the ladies.
