Leaving Normal (19 page)

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Authors: Stef Ann Holm

BOOK: Leaving Normal
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By nightfall, the firefighters were trying to figure out how they'd get milk to the kittens. Tony made a call to Doug Frye, had him swing by the twenty-four-hour emergency animal hospital, pick up some supplies and bring them to Station 13.

It never occurred to the three of them to turn the kittens over to the animal shelter. Somewhere between

James Walcroft carrying the mom cat into the garage and Captain Palladino making the lifesaving efforts for the unborn babies, the firehouse adopted those kittens.

 

"Dad smells like Brut," Sarah whispered as she and Natalie stood at the kitchen sink washing dinner dishes.

"I noticed that." Natalie's tone was hushed. "I didn't think they still made that cologne."

"Apparently so. Must be stocked next to the High Karate."

Natalie laughed. "What's up with him? He hasn't worn cologne since…Mom."

At that, the sisters' heads turned simultaneously in the direction of Fred Miller who was playing Frogger on the PlayStation in the living room. He swore at the controls, his posture rigid and his thumbs moving the knobs up and down as a frog hopped across the television screen.

"Goddammit," he muttered.

BreeAnn and Sydney giggled at their grandpa.

Natalie turned to Sarah. "He's got to have met someone. There's no other explanation."

"Agree."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "I wonder who she is."

"Not a clue."

"Where would he meet a woman?"

"I don't know. Grocery store? Maybe Hat and Garden."

"I haven't seen him flirting with any of the customers."

"Dad would never do that," Natalie replied. "He'd play it cool."

"Should we ask him if he's seeing anyone?"

Natalie bit her lip. "I don't think we should ask him outright. You know how he gets defensive about things."

Steve Brockner walked through the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and said, "Want some pie, hon?"

"No. I'm still full from dinner."

Steve took out a half-eaten apple pie, set it on the countertop and began to cut a slice. To Natalie he asked, "Are you dating anyone?"

"Not since the erection guy," Sarah supplied.

"God, Sarah," Natalie said with a huff. "You told him that?"

"I tell Steve everything."

"Everything except how much you spend shopping," Steve quipped, shooting canned whip cream at his wife.

She laughed and ducked. Whipping the smear of white cream off the counter, she put her finger in her mouth. "Save that for later, babe."

Natalie felt a moment's discomfort. While she was happy for her sister's fabulous marriage, it left her with a lonely pang, wishing she had someone special in her life. Where that thought came from, she could only surmise.

The sisters went into the living room with cups of decaf to watch their father curse his way through the third level of the video game before giving the controls over to his granddaughters.

"I give up. Nobody can win that level," he said, rising to his feet and going into the kitchen for his second piece of pie.

"Grandpa, we can win it. We'll show you." Sydney proceeded to hop her way through the mazes and proved her point within a few minutes.

Grandpa Fred sat on the couch with his pie and frowned. "Well, I gave it my best try. You have to have the patience of a saint to win at that damn thing."

The girls moved up to the next level and Natalie removed her shoes and curled her feet beneath her. "So, Dad, what's new in your life?" she asked.

"Nothing."

His flat response didn't appease Sarah. "Seriously, Dad. Have you been doing anything fun lately?"

"Fun?" he said with a sour face. "I cleaned up dog shit in my front yard left by that worthless poodle who lives next door. They always let it out without a leash and it craps on my mugho pine."

"I'm sorry," Natalie offered, trying to keep a straight face. "So you haven't been doing anything different, going out any place special or—"

"Dad, we want to know why you're wearing Brut," Sarah cut in, literally cutting to the chase. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

The fork in Fred's hand stilled. "I have no such thing."

"Then why the cologne?" Natalie asked.

"Can't a man put on a quality aftershave and not get interrogated about it?"

Natalie tried to smooth his ruffled feathers. "Of course, Dad. Nobody's picking on you."

"It feels like it."

"We're sorry," Sarah offered. "We're just curious is all. We wouldn't be upset if you were interested in someone."

"No, we wouldn't," Natalie put in. "We want you to be happy, to find someone."

"Someone you can add to your life," Sarah said with a smile. "Maybe take long romantic walks with."

"Romantic walks?" Fred's face blanched. "Don't you go getting any ideas. I don't want to talk about it."

He rose from the chair, put his unfinished pie on the counter, then stepped into the study to pester Steve while he was on the computer.

Natalie and Sarah traded glances. Natalie spoke first. "We hit a nerve."

"I think an artery."

"He's definitely got a crush on someone."

"No kidding."

BreeAnn and Sydney finished playing Frogger and punched the remote so that the television station came on.

The nightly news was airing, and as Natalie and Sarah drank their coffee, Sarah's chin lifted.

"Look! It's your fireman!" Sarah blurted. "He's on TV."

Natalie's attention was pulled to the television and the broadcaster's voice as she reported a story.

"The men at Station 13 have been up to extra duties this past week when they delivered four kittens from a cat who'd been run over in front of their firehouse. Dispatch rings down the station every two hours throughout the night so crews of firefighters can feed the kittens their milk. The feedings are something new for this bachelor who's never changed a diaper."

She put the microphone in front of Tony. "How does it feel to be a surrogate father?"

Tony folded strong arms over his chest, the blue of his IAFF shirt a contrast against his dark complexion. "It's no different than being a real dad. You do what you have to do."

Natalie sensed he was uncomfortable with the fame, maybe a little uncomfortable in front of the microphone.

"And what do you and your fellow firefighters plan on doing with the kittens?"

"We're going to adopt them out when they're old enough."

"Can the public request a kitten?"

"We're taking applications. We've already had a lot come in. Me and the guys on all the shifts are going to read through them, make sure the homes are suitable, stuff like that."

The reporter addressed the viewing audience. "You can find the fire station's address at our Web site as well as a form to fill out if you're interested in the adoption." To Tony, she said, "And all four will be available?"

"Three females and one male. The females are giving the guys a hard time already." Tony shifted his stance, looked down, then at the camera. He gave Boise a grin—the grin that Natalie had come to cherish, the one that would always give her a warm feeling inside.

"He takes a beautiful picture on television," Sarah commented wistfully. "He's not only handsome, Natalie…he seems to have a good heart."

Natalie merely nodded.

She couldn't form words around the lump in her throat.

Yes, indeed. He did seem to have a very good heart.

Chapter Eleven

 

Indelible Scars

 

Natalie had been so busy all week, she hadn't gotten around to taking in her mail till Saturday. She made time on Sunday morning to stock up at the grocery store. Using facial tissues as emergency toilet paper had gotten old real fast and she could no longer put off a trip for supplies—namely food. That glass of cold milk with her lunch had never tasted so good.

She really had to stay more on top of her personal inventory. Since Hat and Garden's opening, it seemed as if she'd neglected her home life in favor of putting more energy into her business. While she loved the feeling of success, she didn't want it to come at the expense of keeping her home well run.

She'd spent this morning dusting and vacuuming and getting ready for Sunday-night dinner at her house tonight. Last week had been Sarah's turn and next week would be Dad's.

Something was up with her father, but he wasn't talking.

It somewhat infuriated Natalie that he could be so closemouthed. Did he think his daughters would disapprove that he was dating?

At that, Natalie wondered if the new lady was unsuitable. Perhaps she wasn't a good choice for her father and he knew it, but his infatuation caused him to cast a blind eye to his dating decision.

Natalie was going to call Sarah as soon as she came in from getting the mail to run the idea past her sister.

Natalie raised her face to the sky as she walked down the driveway to the mailbox. The days were finally warming up to the high forties and several afternoons this week they had hit the low fifties. Today had to be one of them. The sun felt heavenly and warm, a reminder that spring and summer were on their way. She couldn't wait to get into her garden and plant seeds. She'd spread Preen on her flowerbeds last fall and hoped she'd have better luck this year preventing weed germination. She didn't care for weeding. Last year she'd hired someone to clear the planters.

Opening her mailbox and gathering the mail, her attention was pulled to Tony's house as the garage door creaked and lifted.

She glanced in his direction and saw him inside the garage.

Holding her unopened mail, she made a decision, and crossed the street and walked up his driveway.

"Hi," she greeted, smiling.

"Hey." He wore a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. His hair was damp as if he'd just stepped out of the shower. He stood at his work bench with a small piece of wood clamped into a vise. "How're you?"

"Good. You?"

"Been okay." He tightened the vise, got a handsaw and started on the wood.

She tucked the mail in the crook of her arm as he worked the saw, a visible strain of muscle beneath his thin shirt. She swallowed. "I saw you on TV last week. I even read about you in the newspaper."

He sort of shrugged. "Yeah, it's gotten a lot of exposure."

"What you guys are doing is really nice."

"Yep." He finished cutting the small piece, took the wood out of the vise and examined it. "It's been interesting."

"How are the kittens getting along?"

"Fine. Growing up fast." Reaching for sandpaper, he began to rub the small wedge. "We've had hundreds of applications for them. You wouldn't think that, but people want a firehouse cat."

"Of course, because firefighters rescued them. It's honorable and noble and…" Her train of thought faded.

They were talking about cats, but she couldn't keep her eyes off him. The way his hands moved, the way he rubbed that slice of wood had her imagining what his hands would feel like all over her. She tried to push that thought to the back of her mind, but it just wouldn't leave.

"Uh, what are you making?"

"A wedge for my hat. I lost my other one."

"A wedge?"

"It chalks a door open after I go in when there's a fire," he explained.

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