Flash
About three weeks into our blissful existence as an engaged couple, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up with a frown, not having seen the number pop up for a long ti. "Flash here."
"Hey, Flash, it’s Monty Robb."
Captain Monty Robb worked for Sacranto FD, and I’d flown for him early in my flight career.
"Captain Robb, how the hell are you?"
"Can’t complain," he said. "How are you?"
"I’m good," I said, smiling. "Gettin’ married."
"No kidding? Congratulations."
"Thanks. How about you? Got any grandkids yet?"
"Three," he said.
"Wow. That’s aweso."
"Yeah, it is."
"As much as I love hearin’ your voice, I’m sure you didn’t call to shoot the shit," I deduced.
"Always to the point," he said. "Like that about you, bud."
I chuckled.
"Southern Cali’s not doin’ so great," he continued.
That was an understatent. Most of LA and the surrounding area was on fire and it was spreading.
"Yeah, I’ve been watchin’ the news."
"He’s put a call out for pilots, and you’re the first person I thought of," he said. "Are you still flying?"
"I am," I confird.
"Can I give him your contact information?" he asked. "It’ll be more of an ergency backup."
"Absolutely."
His sigh ca over the phone. "Thanks, brother. Appreciate it."
"No problem."
"Right, I’ll let you get back to it."
"Take care," I said, and hung up, heading into the kitchen where Tate was standing in one of my T-shirts, frying bacon on the stove.
She turned her head and grinned. "Hi, honey."
"Hey, baby," I said, closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Where’d you get that shirt?"
She leaned back into . "I pulled it out of the dryer after I did twelve loads of your laundry," she said sweetly, but the fact she’d done a week’s worth of my dirty shit wasn’t lost on . "Finders keepers."
I chuckled, sliding my hands under her shirt, and running my fingers over her belly. "Looks better on you anyway."
"I know," she squealed in a girly, sarcastic voice.
"Thanks for doing all that shit." I kissed her quickly, then pulled a couple of mugs out of the cabinet.
"You’re welco," she said. "Who was on the phone?"
I dumped sugar into my cup and Splenda into hers as I watched her cook. "You rember telling you about the captain I trained under when I was early in my flight stuff?"
"The fire captain?"
I nodded. "Yeah. He called to see if I would be interested in helping out the Sacranto FD with the fires in southern California."
"How would you do that?"
"Fly over them and dump water on the fires."
She spun to face . "But you’re not a firefighter?"
"Baby, I’m one of a handful certified to fly the helos."
"How long would you have to go for?" she asked.
"No idea, baby. Probably a few weeks."
"But we just found each other, I can’t lose you."
"You’re not gonna lose ," I said, shaking my head. "Jesus, don’t kill off just yet."
"The fires are bad, Flash. You should stay here."
I slid my hands up her arms and cupped her face. "I haven’t even been asked to go anywhere yet."
Her eyes filled with tears. "But you will be."
"Possibly."
"Do I have any say in this?" she asked, and I wiped her tears away.
"Yeah, baby, of course you do."
She blinked rapidly, then dropped her head into my chest. "So, I can ask you not to go."
"Yeah."
"Okay." She wrapped her arms around . "I probably won’t, just to be clear, but it’s good to know I have that choice."
I smiled, holding her tight. "You have all the choices, honey."
She pulled away and wiped her tears. "I’m going to finish making breakfast."
"That would be good."
Nodding, she turned back to the stove.
"I got one of you out there playin’ rock star, and now you wanna play fireman," Dad growled.
It was two weeks later, and I’d gotten the call yesterday asking to be on alert to fly down to California. There had been quite a bit of rain which had helped, but with the rain, brought the fear of landslide. The fire wasn’t totally out, so they wanted to make sure that I’d be available and ready to go if they needed .
I was in my dad’s office at the club and my news that I’d been requested to help out the firefighting effort in California was not going over well.
"First of all, we’re firefighters, second of all, I’m not playin’ anything. This isn’t trick or treat, and I’m not a fuckin’ kid. It’s life or death out there. In case you forgot, you were the one who taught all about leadership, honor, and sacrifice, so I would have thought you’d show a little more respect."
Dad ran his hands through his hair. "You are not a firefighter, Flash."
"Close enough in this situation."
A knock at the door brought my mother who looked pissed. "What the bloody hell is going on?" she growled.
"I got a call to help out with the fires in California," I said.
"You’re not a firefighter, love."
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