Page 47 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
I find him waiting on his front porch when I pull up. “Did you bring that young man of yours?”
I grin and crack the door so that he can hear Noah babble. I lift him out of the car seat, let him toddle through the grass to Mr. Oakley, and grab the leashes to take the pups out.
“And some other visitors, I see?” Mr. Oakley cranes his neck to get a better look at the puppies.
“Courtesy of Station 59.” I smile.
The firefighters have grown on Mr. Oakley, too. I tell him the story of how the puppies were rescued in the latest wildfire while he scratches one behind the ears.
He gives me a knowing smile. “Well, bring them inside, then. I’m sure you want to make sure I took my meds.”
Together, we walk inside and let the puppies off-leash. They immediately tumble over each other in their haste to explore a new place. A little behind them, Noah tries to keep up with their antics.
“You took them before I got here.” I hold the empty pillbox in my hand, surprised. Mr. Oakley hates taking his medication and usually only takes it under threat of force.
“Well, I knew you were coming, and you never take no for an answer,” he grumbles as he sets about putting on coffee.
I take a seat at his kitchen table, setting the orange prescription bottles on it to refill his pillbox later. We chat a bit about Noahand Levi, the hospital, and what Mr. Oakley has been doing to fill his days.
“It’s been a while since I’ve come over,” I admit guiltily when he slides the steaming mug of coffee to me. He’s sweetened it with cream, a grocery staple he keeps on hand just for me.
“It seems like you’ve been awfully busy.” He raises a bushy white eyebrow at me. “With Noah, of course.”
The puppies make a loud ruckus in the living room. We poke our heads in to check on them, only to find them gnawing on the edge of his wooden coffee table.
“What do they have to do that for?” Mr. Oakley grumbles. He pulls the offending puppy away from the table and affectionately scratches him behind the ears. “Probably hungry, if I had to guess.”
We head back to the kitchen.
I regain my seat while Mr. Oakley rummages through the fridge. He pulls out an empty bowl, chipped on the edges, and fills it with a generous splash of milk.
“I don’t think Noah?—”
“It’s not for Noah,” he says, turning his eyes to the puppies. “If they’re hungry enough to chew on wood, maybe somethingsweet would tide them over. You know, until they go back to the shelter.”
I suppress a smile and sip my coffee. Mr. Oakley never wants anyone to see how soft he can be, but he’s not fooling me. I’ve seen him and Noah together—and now these puppies.
“Anyway, you were saying that you no longer have time for an old man,” he says, drawing me back to our earlier conversation.
“I’ve seen you at the hospital,” I remind him gently. “More often than I would like to. Why don’t you just call me at home instead?”
“You have your hands full without me bothering you.” He sets the bowl of warmed milk down. The satisfaction on his face as the puppies lap it up is hard to deny. “I seem to remember you brought a man to see me in the hospital.”
I blush. The last person I want to discuss my love life with is Mr. Oakley. He probably has antiquated notions about how dating should be, having not been on a date for the last 33 years or so.
“You’re turning red,” he notes, which only deepens my blush.
“Aaron and I are just?—”
“Don’t insult me by telling me that you’re just friends. I saw the way he looks at you. The way you light up when his name comes up.”
“It’s more complicated than you make it sound,” I argue, my voice weaker than I’d like. “I have Noah to think about.”
“Does this Aaron know that you have a child?” His tone is pointed, but his eyes are fixed on Noah.
If anyone other than Levi understands how important my son is to me, it’s Mr. Oakley.
“Of course,” I say. “It would be impossible not to know.”
