“No, not your fault,” she agrees with a slight laugh, hopping back onto the bed of the truck. The sunlight dapples down between the branches, downright idyllic, or at least it would be if it weren’t for the threat of the fire hanging over our heads. “So what do you do now? Just wait for another fire to break out?”
“Something like that.”
“That must drive you crazy. All that go, go, go and then just…nothing for long periods of time.”
“Trust me,” I mutter, memories of our time in the military nagging at my head. “Nothing is better than something more often than not.”
She tilts her head to the side curiously, clearly not sure what to make of that. I don’t want to dump all of this on her head, but she’s in our midst now, right in the center of everything that we’ve worked so hard to make. She’s going to have to come to terms with being exposed to at least some of it, whether she likes it or not.
“I guess so,” she murmurs, not pushing for more. “So, what are you doing now? Checking the rest of the equipment?”
“Yeah,” I reply. Truthfully, I had intended to head back inside and help out the guys, but if she’s offering me a chance to spend a little more time alone with her, I am going to jump on it. It’s been a couple days since she first joined us here, and she’s only really been around all four of us when she’s not retreating back to her room to rest. There’s so much I want to say to her, so much that I want to ask her, and being with her and her alone might be the way to crack open that door and catch a taste of everything I’ve been holding back.
I crack open the van and lift out a couple more pieces, her eyes still on me from where she’s sitting in the bed of the truck.
“You know, my mom was texting me today, asking when they’re going to be able to go back to their place,” she remarks.
I cock an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to send someone up there to save them again…”
“Oh, hell, no,” she laughs. “I think she learned her lesson the first time. It’s more…I think that’s the mood of everyone down there at the moment, actually. Wondering when everything is going to go back to normal, especially since the fires are out right now. Probably doesn’t help that my family is taking care of four kids in a tiny hotel room either, but you know…”
“I don’t know when they can go back,” I admit. “None of us do. Could be that the weather settles and they can come back in a couple of days, but if another fire breaks out…” I shake my head. “Might not be so lucky.”
I drag the water tanks to the back of the truck, where she’s sitting. Her long legs dangle next to me as I check the other tanks for any signs of damage, and she continues the conversation.
“I can’t wait to get the kids back home,” she admits with a sigh. “It’s been difficult, having them away from home. I hate feeling like they don’t have somewhere they can just relax, you know? I know it sounds silly, saying that about a bunch of toddlers, but I always want them to have consistency in their lives, even if there isn’t much else I can give them.”
“Bet there’s plenty you give them that you don’t even realize,” I reply, glancing up at her briefly.
She smiles slightly, her hair falling into her face. “You think?”
“Taking care of four kids at the same time, that can’t be easy,” I remark, looking back down at the tanks once more, doing my best to keep my mind on anything other than how good she looks right now. “And they look healthy and happy enough to me.”
“Well, probably because you made them breakfast,” she reminds me with a little laugh. “God, it was so surreal, coming downstairs and seeing you and Joe taking care of them like that.”
“Really?”
“Of course!” she exclaims. “I haven’t exactly had anyone around to help me with stuff like that. Don’t get me wrong, my parents and my sister do so much, so much more than I could ever ask from them, but the mornings have always just been us, at least till now.”
My mind flits to a matter that I haven’t broached with her so far—a matter that I know has nothing to do with anything, but that I still find myself curious about.
“So, no man at home to help you out?” I ask, keeping my voice as casual as I can given the matter of conversation. I can feel her looking down at me, clearly surprised that I would come out and say it like that.
“No, no man,” she affirms. “I…I actually haven’t….”
She pauses for a moment, and when I look up at her to see what has caused the delay, I see that her cheeks are flushed a dark pink.
I pause my work, leaning on the tank for a moment. “What is it?”
“No, nothing, it doesn’t matter?—”
“You got me curious now,” I remark, prompting her a little further. “Come on. Tell me.”
She bites her lip for a second, clearly not sure if this is the time or place to admit what’s going through her mind. Finally, the words escape her lips, and it’s like she’s been hanging on to them for a lifetime.
“Uh, I haven’t actually been with anyone else. Since…you know, since that night at the bonfire.”
Her eyes don’t move from mine as she speaks, as though she’s trying to navigate exactly what I think about this revelation. The mere mention of that night feels like a dirty trick, throwing me back in time to the way it felt to share her with the others. The way it felt for her body to wrap around mine like we had been made for each other, watching her come on top of my friends, drinking in the sound and the taste and the scent of her like they were the most precious things in the world.
