I realize I might have come across as gruff, so I add, “Too much hassle with our schedule,” which also probably sounds gruff.
Silence fills the cab again. Usually I appreciate it when someone doesn’t force me to talk. Right now my skin feels too tight.
“You?” I finally ask her.
She’s all smiles at my simple question. Just like she was inthe assembly. I was focusing on equipping the students with skills and tools that could save their lives. I could tell Hallie was taking the task seriously, but she did not inform her face. I caught her on the verge of private laughter on a few occasions.
She looks practically the same as she did that night in Munich—warm, cheerful, curious. She’s an older version of that young woman.
I’m more like Bruce Banner when he turned into the Hulk. Not that I’m aggressive, but I’m not the young man I was—barely a shadow of him remains.
“Um …” Hallie says hesitantly. “It’s complicated.”
I glance over at her. “I take that as a yes.”
“Not my animal, but I have a dog living with me for now. Other people care for him when I’m not home.”
I nod. Other people. I’m guessing that’s her mom and Avery. Maybe Mia too. Why won’t she tell me about them? Then again, why won’t I tell her I was Ace? I guess we’re all entitled to our secrets.
“What are you going to do on your days off?” Hallie asks.
We’ve got four days off in a row coming up—thanks to our Kelly schedule—starting tomorrow. On some of those, I’ll be coaching Hallie’s daughter. I could tell her that, but then she’d discover that I know about Mia. And I feel an inexplicable urge to help her guard her own privacy, even though I don’t understand why she needs to keep her daughter a secret.
Being on a fire crew usually means knowing practically everything about the other guys you work with. At least, I know about them because they’re all always sharing details of their lives during the moments we’re sitting around at the station waiting for the next call. I’ll admit they don’t know as much about me. I’m a private person. I keep to myself.
Hallie glances over at me and then quickly looks away as if I make her nervous. Do I? She follows her question with anapology of sorts. “Sorry. Is asking about your days off too personal?”
“No. Not too personal,” I say.
Though, I don’t usually talk about my days off with the other guys on the crew. We just go our separate ways unless they wrangle me into something they’re doing in town.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I tell her. “How about you?”
“Same.”
I almost smile. We’re both sitting on secrets so big they feel like live volcanos, and yet we’re acting entirely nonchalant.
We ride the rest of the way in a silence that feels complicit—like we’ve agreed on this unspoken pact not to dig too deeply into one another’s lives. She’s relaxed back into her seat, her eyes taking in our town. I want to ask her how she likes it here, and then ask her the hundred other questions I’ve pondered since she first walked through the bays into Cody’s office.
Why Waterford?
What happened to her dream of being a surgeon?
Is she married? I’m guessing not.
Does she think of that night in Germany?
Has she ever thought of it over the years—thought of me?
We pull into the bay and exit the truck at the same time. I grab the bag of props we brought for the assembly, returning the items to storage. Hallie walks into the main room without another word or glance in my direction.
The rest of our shift is uneventful. We’re called out on a few minor accidents and one false alarm. We almost get a full night’s sleep without any interruptions.
We’re finishing shift change when Patrick leans over and asks me, “Do you have any plans today?”
“Nothing firm,” I hedge. I’ve got baseball practice this afternoon, but no plans until then.
“Good. I’ll see you at Moss and Maple in an hour.”
