Page 31 of Fire and Rain
“That’s such a fun age.” Brenda looked down at her sleeping grandson. “Why don’t I make us a nice cup of tea, and we can chat?”
“Thanks, Mom. That would be great.”
Brenda brought the tea, and the three of them settled into a conversation, mostly about Brenda’s life in New Mexico—the church where she sang in the choir, her interest in genealogy, her hobby of collecting and furnishing dollhouses.
Eden did her best to listen attentively, even when Brenda’s long descriptions of her family tree and her various dollhouses left Eden fighting not to yawn.
Angela did her best to change the subject. “I bet you have a very interesting family tree, Eden, with Alutiiq, Russian… and what else?”
“Scottish and French Canadian. That’s most of it.”
“What’s Aloot…” Brenda stopped short.
“Alutiiq.” Eden finished the word for her. “It’s Sugpiaq—Native Alaskan.”
“Oh! You’re part Eskimo.”
Angela looked apologetically at Eden. “No one uses that word anymore, Mom.”
“Well, I can’t keep up with all of that stuff, so whatever.” Her mother gave an impatient wave of her hand then stood and carried the teacups to the kitchen.
“Sorry!” Angela mouthed.
“It’s okay,” Eden mouthed back. In her arms, Noah began to fuss. “He’s probably hungry. I should get going. I need to run to the store and pick up Maverick from my sister’s.”
Eden handed the baby back to Angela.
“Thank you.” Angela got ready to nurse. “And thanks for bringing dinner.”
“It’s a favorite family recipe. I hope you enjoy it.” Eden got to her feet. “It was nice to meet you, Brenda.”
“Lovely to meet you, too, dear.”
Eden walked out to her SUV, grabbed her phone, and typed out a text for Sean.
Are you working as a flight mech again?
She looked at the message for a moment and then deleted it.
Sean’s life wasn’t her business.
* * *
June 3
Sean finished his workout,showered, and wrapped his towel around his hips. Bag of toiletries in hand, he walked over to the mirror to shave the spots on his face that still grew hair. Today, he was meeting Eden at Fire and Rescue so Maverick could see the cherry-picker. He’d heard via Captain Walcott that Lt. Mitchell had something special in store for the boy.
He lathered his jaw and ran the razor over his stubble, ignoring the trill of excitement in his chest at the thought of seeing Eden again. This was about Maverick. There was nothing going on between him and Eden. And that moment when she’d stared at his bare chest? He had only imagined the desire in her eyes. It had probably been distress as she saw the redness of his skin where the tea had burned him. These complicated emotions came from shared grief and mutual concern, nothing more.
Do you believe the shit you’re telling yourself?
Sean met his gaze in the mirror, his face half covered by shaving cream.
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
It didn’t matter how he felt. Emotions could be controlled. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything for Eden but concern and friendship.
He finished shaving, rinsed his face with hot water, then dried off and put on his blue ODUs. He wasn’t on duty today, but he didn’t want to show up in another department on base wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He tied his boots, grabbed his phone, and left the barracks for the short walk to the firehouse.
