Thankfully, it was the town bus, so the trips either way weren’t long.
How old would that make Frank? He was probably in his early fifties when I was in elementary school. That’s been 15 years, so he’d been in his late sixties now. Or maybe I just thought he was that old because I was a kid.
I slow at the stop sign on Emerson. A green Cutlass rolls up from the left. Chad Whitlock. Of course it is.
His window is down, and when he sees me behind the wheel, his lip curls. He raises his hand and flips me off.
“Seriously?” Emily shakes her head.
I have the right-of-way, so I start through the intersection.
Chad guns his engine and lurches forward, cutting across my path. I slam on the brake. His tires screech as he spins out ahead of us and roars down the street.
“Unbelievable,” Emily mutters.
“If I wasn’t heading to a fire, I’d pull him over for reckless driving.” My teeth are clenched as I watch the son of a bitch disappear down the street.
“He’s still the same charming guy, huh?”
“Apparently.”
Down the next block, smoke billows toward the skyline as the traffic on the street leading to Gannon’s house is bumper-to-bumper.
In the distance, sirens blare behind us, and Emily cranes her head around. “Another firetruck and two siren-equipped vehicles.”
“Got it.” I flip on the blinker and ease to the side of the road so that the emergency vehicles can go past.
In the city, firefighters are hired as full-time workers who remain on site for their shift. But here in Brookhaven, the fire department is staffed mostly by volunteers who receive an all-points bulletin when a fire alarm gets raised.
Our department has a handful of full-time firefighters who man the station, but they call out for their volunteer cadre when an emergency happens.
“I hope they’re alright.” Emily clasps her hands together in her lap. “June was my Girl Scout leader in middle school.” She shakes her head. “That makes me sound like a jerk. It shouldn’t matter that I know them.”
“Em.” I place my hand over hers and squeeze, sending an electric current up my arm. “It’s fine. I don’t think less of you because you said it.”
I place my hand back onto the steering wheel and join the other vehicles. The last thing I want to do is make things awkward in an enclosed vehicle. Or make her feel like I’m taking advantage of the situation.
“I was thinking the same thing about Frank. He was my bus driver for years. I don’t want to find out anything bad happened to him either.”
“I know.” Emily gazes out the window. “I’m sorry I said you became a police officer for the wrong reasons. I should’ve never said that. I’m also sorry I was snippy when… Well, all the time.”
The air hangs thick between us, and it’s not just because of the hint of smoke that’s burning my nose. My heart thuds in my chest, and the words fly out before I get the chance to stop them. “Did I do something that I don’t remember to get on your bad side?”
After I pull along the sidewalk and shove the gearshift into park, I grip the steering wheel with both hands. I’m not sure I want the answer. What if her answer is that she hates my personality? Or the look on my face?
She licks her lips. “I….”
Seriously, this is not the time or place to hold a serious conversation. She bites her bottom lip and stares out the window at the crowd standing on the sidewalk.
Maybe I have it wrong. Maybe she’s always had feelings for me, and that’s why she threw out barbed insults like missiles in a warzone.
My heart skips a beat. Is she going to admit she has feelings for me? That she was rude to me because she thought, thinks, that I don’t care. I release my grip on the steering wheel. She needs to know I care about her.
“Thank God,” she sighs and shifts to the edge of her seat.
The flames above the two-story home flicker through the night sky as firefighters scurry in all directions. One fireman is perched halfway up a ladder, while spraying water through an upper-story window, while others are dragging hoses through the yard and barking orders to concerned citizens.
“What?”
