Page 2 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

“Exactly,” his mother replied. “This can be very tasteful. I mean, last time, you just stood there like you were taking a photo for a work badge or something. I think you should do one with your shirt off. You have a very handsome chest, just like your father. Your dad’s chest is what made me come back for more, you know.”

Oh god. Logan was going to have to not only burn his phone but maybe burn his ears off too. “Ma, come on! I don’t want to hear this.”

The rest of his squad wasn’t pretending to hide their comments. Someone behind him whistled before yelling, “Take it off, Sonny! Show us that sexy dad chest.”

Logan considered removing his imaginary ballcap to swat at everyone having a laugh at his expense while yelling, “Knock it off, you hooligans,” like he was possessed by the spirit of his dead nonna. He was positive this was due to not putting an instant stop to the nickname “Sonny,” a play on his last name, and now he had no respect from anyone.

“Yeah, see? Even your friends think you’re a handsome boy,” she responded. He cringed at being considered a boy by his mother while at the technical age of thirty-five, especially when he felt twice as old during very long workdays.

“I’m not talking about this anymore, Mother,” he grumbled.

“Just promise me you’ll live up to your word and do it, and we can move on.”

She made it sound easy. All he had to do was agree. But agreeing would mean she’d pull this trick again. Damn Past Logan. In an act of rebellion, he kept silent.

“Fine,” his mother replied. “You know when I was shopping for new underwear for your father, I saw the cutest pair of men’s bikini briefs. They had little fire hydrants on them. Next time I go in—”

“Okay. Okay,” he shouted to drown her out and put a stop to all the laughter inside the bus. “Good night, Ma! Leave me alone. I could have died on the job, and now I have to go through all this? This is worse.” All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for at least three weeks like a bear in hibernation. If he were lucky, he’d probably get a few days before being pulled for another job.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Logan. Stop being so dramatic. It’s just one silly photo. And you know it’s important for my ladies’ golf group to raise money for a good cause.”

“Ma, I need to go . . . do stuff.” His concern about hurt feelings had run its course.

“Don’t you want to talk to your father? You haven’t talked to him in so long, and he misses you.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Logan didn’t want to talk to his dad. It wasn’t like the old days. Now it was typically one long bitch fest where his dad complained about everything that was wrong with the world and how it was one group or another’s fault. “Maybe next time. I’m beat and can barely hold the phone up.”

“You guys should take one of your camping trips like you used to. Doesn’t that sound nice? It would give your father something to look forward to.”

“You know that I’m probably not going to be able to get away for any camping trips because of work.”

His mother released a heavy sigh. “I have to tell you, Logan, it just sounds like an excuse. You can’t fool me when I’ve been married to your father for as long as I have, and when he was a firefighter, he was only gone for—”

“It’s not the same. Nothing is the same!” Logan didn’t want to get short with her, but it was frustrating not being listened to. “How many times do I—”

“Good god. Why are you getting so worked up? If it’s really that much of a bother for you to be with your own parents, just say so. All I was calling for was for you to take one lousy photo to help us raise money for the penguins. They need new upgrades to their enclosure at the Sacramento Zoo. The poor little things.”

It added to his annoyance that his body, and those of his crew, were being used to help damn penguins—not that Logan had anything against animals. Except he felt as if he were constantly being asked to put half the world on his shoulders, and he wasn’t sure he could carry anymore. Plus, there were a few other causes that could use the money, including firefighters. Logan was over everything by this point.

“Okay. I’ll take the picture. I don’t know when I’ll have time, but I’ll take it okay?”

“See? Was that really so hard?”

“Fine. You got me. Happy? I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“Sounds good, sweetie. Love you.”

He accidentally hung up before remembering to repeat the sentiment in return. Great. Now his mother probably thought he hated her. And he was stuck doing this damn firefighter calendar. He wasn’t sure how his life could get any worse. Maybe everything burning down would be better. At least it’d be less of a hassle.

Home sweet home was neither sweet nor much of a home. It wasn’t the future dream cabin that existed in the middle of nowhere. Instead, this was just a place—somewhere to hole up until the next job rolled around.

If he had one complaint, it was that the older apartment complex parking lot was too small. It definitely wasn’t big enough for the moving truck currently engulfing several spots. Most people had the sense to park large trucks on the street and leave the lot for tenants’ vehicles. This didn’t help with Logan’s already sour mood. Luckily, the driver of the moving truck seemed to read his mind, because it pulled out of the lot and drove away in a hurry just as Logan got to the entrance. Either way, he wasn’t looking forward to avoiding another neighbor.

Logan parked his truck, gathered his bag filled with gear and sweat-stained work clothes, and made his way to the building. He planned to drop his clothes in the wash before collapsing on the couch for a two day nap.

With heavy steps, Logan climbed one set of stairs to the second level before reaching the final staircase to his third floor apartment. The alcove at the top was shared with another apartment. He was surprised to find the area filled with a mountain of cardboard boxes.

What the hell?