The Switch (3 page)

Danny needed something to distract him, to fill his time and get him back into normal life once the funeral was over. He returned to Kansas City the day after the burial and threw himself into preparations for National Fire Prevention Week festivities. His next date with Carrie went badly as she watched every nuance of his actions. She pouted when he picked up an extra shift for one of the guys at the station, fussed when he was busy with the annual activities, and rolled her eyes if he so much as brought up Laura’s name in conversation.

The final straw came when she was at Danny’s place for dinner. He was pulling chicken off the grill and plating their meals when he saw her pick up the picture of him, his sister Janie, and Laura at a Christmas activity several years earlier—they were crammed in close together so they’d all fit in the shot. She gave the photo a moue of distaste, then set it face down on the end table.

“Put it back up, please.” Danny continued to dish out the potato salad beside the meat, trying not to grind his teeth.

“It’s not healthy to hold on to all of her pictures and memories.”

“It’s barely been two weeks since she died and I don’t appreciate you making this even harder on me.” He fought to keep his voice even, knowing he was more irritable than usual.

“I don’t appreciate coming in second all the time.” Carrie put her hands on her hips and tossed her shoulder-length, bottle-blonde hair.

Surely she hadn’t been so self-absorbed when they first started dating, had she? He slammed the plate back on the counter, loud enough to express his roiling emotions. “Then you can go home.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed. “If I leave now, we’re through.”

“Fine by me.” Danny watched her huff, snatch up her purse, and hurry out the door, slamming it behind her. He rubbed his neck and slid the plate across the counter. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

He let the meat cool, then wrapped it all up and put it away, cleaning the kitchen. It wasn’t like he’d lost much in ending their relationship. Not when Carrie obviously didn’t understand him—and didn’t care enough to try. They hadn’t dated long. Still, he’d miss the companionship, and they’d had a good time together.

He didn’t want to think about all of the empty days ahead of him, so he finished the kitchen and grabbed his gym bag. He’d go work out at the station. Maybe he’d feel like eating when he returned.

* * *

Danny and James didn’t work on the day of the station’s celebration for National Fire Safety Week. Instead of going into the station, they spent the day visiting elementary and middle schools, doing assemblies where they spoke to the students about fires. They passed out fliers, shook hands, and talked to dozens of children. It wasn’t until the last group though, that Danny found himself face-to-face with Tia’s little girl. He couldn’t remember her name right away, but he recognized her the moment he saw her.

“Hello,” she said as she stepped closer to greet him. “You came to my house.”

He grinned and knelt on one knee so he could look into her eyes. “I sure did. How’s your mom?”

“She’s better. She says you saved her life.” She put her hand on his arm. “Do you like saving lives?”

“Firefighters and paramedics all like saving lives. It’s why we’re there. You were very brave when you mom was sick.”

Her eyes cut away from him and she frowned slightly. “No I wasn’t, I was scared.”

The child-like honesty warmed him as nothing had since Laura’s accident. “It’s okay to be scared. You know, sometimes I’m scared too. Being brave means we do things that need to be done even when we’re scared.”

She nodded her acceptance. “I’m going to bring my mom and sister to the firehouse tonight. I want to ride in the fire truck.” Enthusiasm shined in her green eyes.

“I’ll watch for you then.” He looked at the little towhead with the pale red highlights. “What was your name again?”

“Samantha. What’s yours?”

“Danny.” He saw her glance back at a class lined up at the door. The teacher gave them an exasperated look. “I think your class is waiting for you. You tell your mom hi for me.”

“I will.” She waved over her shoulder as she hurried back to join her class.

“She looks familiar,” James said as he joined Danny.

“Remember the pine nut allergy. That was her mom.” Danny stood again, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

“Right. She’s a good kid.” He tipped his head toward the door. “You about ready to go then? Lots to do back at the station before all the munchkins start to show up.”

“I’m all set.” He grabbed his gear.

* * *

Danny had been helping children and a few curious parents on and off the rigs in front of the fire station when they stopped to change passengers on the fire trucks. It had already been a long day, first the school assemblies, then setting up for the open house. This had always been one of the yearly events he’d most enjoyed, but this time he’d thrown himself into it like a lifeline.

Has it already been over two weeks since Laura’s funeral?
It was still too painful to think about, so he buried it in the back of his mind. Another truck pulled in and he smiled brightly at the kids as they climbed out. “How did it go?” he asked a boy of about seven or eight.

“It was so cool! Can I go again?”

Danny laughed. “Maybe a bit later. We still have a lot of kids who haven’t had a chance. Did you see the booth where they’re giving out tattoos?” He lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt to show off the rub-on tattoo he’d applied before everyone started to arrive. It had the firefighter crest and his station’s identification on it.

The boy’s eyes widened with excitement. “Awesome. Where are they?”

Danny pointed him in the right direction and the kid tore off for the table.

He helped several more children onto the truck, then turned back to find Tia, her girls, and another little girl Samantha’s age were next in line. “Hi, there. You’re looking well.” Tia looked terrific, actually. Better in real life than on television despite the minimal makeup and her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail.

 
“Thanks. I’m feeling much better. No new problems.” Her smile was slightly embarrassed. “Samantha was so excited to come tonight. She loves fire trucks.”

“What a coincidence, so do I.” He crouched down to Samantha’s level. “I see you managed to bring your mom and sister. Who’s this?” He pointed to the dark-haired girl beside her.

“She’s my best friend, Casey. She lives across the street from me.”

“Hello, Casey.” He extended his hand and smiled when the girl slid her tiny hand into his for a shake. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Me too,” Casey said in a shy voice.

He stood and looked back at Tia. “I have a couple seats left in the rig. Or if you want to ride with the kids, you can wait until the next load.”

Samantha tugged on one leg of his protective firefighter clothing.

“Yes?”

“Is he going to make lots of noise?”

“Who?”

“Him.” She pointed at James, who was getting out of the driver’s seat. The little girl’s eyes widened as he came over to stand beside Danny. Even Danny couldn’t blame her; James was six foot five and built like a tanker truck. He was also a natural with kids, which made him a great partner when they treated younger patients.

“Do you want him to make lots of noise?” Danny asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

“Yeah!” Her whole face lit up. “I like the sirens. Can I wear a helmet?”

“We’ll see.” He laughed and itched to reach out and tousle her hair, but didn’t want to worry Tia by acting too familiar when they barely knew each other. He looked at Tia again and smiled. “I caught today’s cooking segment. I see you must have let everyone else enjoy the pine nuts, since you’re not in the hospital.”

“Yes. It was hit with everyone who tried it.” Her blush was visible in the dusky light. “I wore gloves when I prepared it so I wouldn’t get a rash again.”

“Good idea.”

James slapped Danny on the shoulder. “He tests a lot of your recipes on us, they’re all really delicious. You must give good directions. He hasn’t poisoned anyone yet.” He turned to Danny, “Hey, want to take the next bunch? I need a break before my hearing goes. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure. You two girls going up?”

“I want to ride in the back,” Casey said.

“Is there room for me?” Samantha asked.

Danny lifted Casey onto the back of the truck and one of the other guys helped buckle her in, then he turned to Tia. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take Samantha up front. I can show her how to use the siren.”

“Yay!” Samantha jumped up and down.

Tia looked amused. “Just down the street, right?”

“Around the block, then back. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

She glanced at her bouncing little girl. “Samantha won’t be a problem up front?”

“No, loads of kids have sat there tonight. I promise to take good care of her.”

“That should be fine.”

Through the open driver’s door, Tia watched Danny lift her daughter into the passenger side of the truck, and show her some things on the dash. Samantha pushed at a button with a tentative finger, then jumped, laughing, when the siren started to wail. When her finger moved away, the siren wound down, then started up again at her command. After a moment, Danny said something to her and she slid back onto the seat.

He handed her the seatbelt and walked around the front of the truck to climb in while Samantha buckled up. He slid his own seat belt on, then called back to the kids to hold on tight and with a wave to Tia, the truck pulled onto the road.

As she watched him go, Tia thought about him watching her cooking show—that larger than life, over-confident, totally gorgeous man. It seemed so odd considering her first impression.

“He’s a hunk, isn’t he? Those fire trousers, suspenders, and a tight T-shirt.” Nichole sighed. “It ought to be against the law to be so good looking.”

Though she agreed whole-heartedly, Tia turned to see Nichole at her shoulder and shrugged. “He is good looking, I suppose.” She glanced at the infants in Nichole’s double stroller. “Manage both diapers already?” After five years of trying to conceive following her first daughter’s birth, Nichole had come across a pregnant teenager who wanted to give up her baby for adoption. The week before the baby was born, she realized she was three months along with her own miracle baby.

“Nice and easy. Kim’s a jewel, always lays still. Kael is another issue, but he did well this time.” She pushed the chin-length fall of hair behind her ear. “So, back to the hunk—did you get a name? I saw the way he looked at you.”

“You couldn’t possibly have seen his expression from the parking lot.” The line of kids was growing behind them, so Tia gestured to a spot farther away and led Nichole there.

“Who said I was in the parking lot the whole time?” Nichole wiggled her eyebrows.

Tia reminded herself Nichole was her best friend and deserved to have her pushiness overlooked. “He’s one of the guys who gave me the ambulance ride. He’s just being friendly. Don’t read too much into it.” But the thought of him actually being interested in her made her heart speed up a little.

“Lee’s been gone almost two years.” Nichole reminded her. “You’re still young—live a little, will you?”

Tia held back her eye roll. It was far from the first time Nichole had said something similar. “Move on to a new subject?” Tristi started crying, so Tia fished out a cracker for her daughter. “Do you dare risk the hotdogs?”

“I don’t see them using extinguishers to keep the flames under control,” Nichole said dryly as she looked at the large slow cooker the dogs were floating in at the Coca-cola truck. “I’m guessing they’re nonpoisonous, anyway, since no one appears to be sick. Besides, Casey will throw a tantrum if I don’t let her have her hotdog.”

Tia held back a laugh at her friend’s put-upon expression. Nichole wasn’t much of a meat eater, and really,
really
not into processed meats. Still, she allowed her kids some here and there, and hoped they’d follow her own philosophy someday. “Dream on,” she muttered.

They could hear the fire truck returning from more than a block away. The siren blared and Tia wondered if her daughter had managed to sweet talk her way out of her seatbelt to run it, or if her baby blues had mesmerized the handsome driver into ruining his own ear drums. It wouldn’t surprise her if they were all deaf when they returned.

After coming to a stop, Danny hopped from the truck and headed around to the other side to help Samantha out. After noticing her daughter removing her seat belt—which meant Samantha’s eye-fluttering powers were still in good working order—Tia thought again about the firefighter. His suave self-confidence bothered her and his flirting unnerved her. She wondered if it ever got him into trouble on the job.

Samantha ran back over and wrapped her arms around her mom’s legs. “I pushed the siren, and Danny ran it for me a lot.”

“I heard, sweetheart. I think the whole state heard, actually.” She tapped a finger on her daughter’s nose

“He said if I’m good I can try on his fire hat.”

“Did he?” Tia didn’t have a chance to decide how she felt about it before he was in front of them.

Danny grinned and crouched so his face was even with Samantha’s. “I’m glad you helped me tonight. Maybe you could bring your mom and sister and help again sometime. I can show you the cool stuff we have inside the ambulance.” He glanced back into Tia’s face and she felt her cheeks flame. “Not while strapped into the gurney this time.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Nichole said, extending a hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Nichole Baugh, Tia’s friend, and you are?”

“Danny Tullis.” He angled a glance at Tia’s face. “And very glad you all came tonight.” He turned and beckoned to someone behind them, then returned his gaze to the ladies. “I did promise Samantha a chance to try on my helmet tonight. Do you have a few minutes?”

Tia’s chest constricted and she became self-conscious about what she said around him. Why was he paying so much attention to her? She’d been out on a date or two since Lee died, but none of the men really flirted with her. She got the feeling, however, that flirting was second nature to Danny, so she tried not to make anything of it. “That will be fine.”

Since Nichole agreed, and the girls bubbled over with excitement, they all headed for the building. Danny stopped to talk to another firefighter, a woman with pale golden hair falling halfway down her back, and ask her to drive the truck full of kids until James returned. Then he led them through the building.

“My locker’s back here.” He stopped at one and twisted the combination lock until it popped open. First, he pulled out his firefighter’s helmet and set it on Samantha’s head.

“It smells like smoke,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Danny laughed. “Fires do tend to smell like smoke.” He pulled out a heavy yellow set of protective clothing like Tia had seen on television and movies. “These are my turnouts, they protect me when I’m doing my job. I have different sets depending on the type of call I go on. This is for fires.” He briefly described how they protected him from getting burned and gave each of the girls a chance to wear the jacket so they could feel how heavy it was.

He returned it and the fire helmet, which Samantha seemed done with for the moment, to his locker and removed a lighter black outfit. “These are extrication turnouts. I wear them when I’m not worried about fires, but if we’re opening up a car so people who are trapped inside can get out. It protects me from glass and other sharp objects. I wear this when I go to accidents on the ambulance, too.” He let them all finger the heavy material and briefly talked about the equipment they used.

“How cool.” Samantha said. “I want to help people when I grow up!”

Tia could see how Samantha’s charm and hero worship were wrapping Danny around her little finger. When he reached out and touched the girl’s shoulder, Tia thought of Lee, and of the way her husband had loved their daughter. She missed the way he’d come in from work and scoop Samantha into his arms, listening to her chatter and grinning at her boundless enthusiasm.

Samantha had cried often, missing her daddy when he shipped out to Afghanistan. It got worse after the funeral when Tia had to tell her Lee wasn’t ever coming home. Two years later Samantha didn’t cry much anymore, but she was starved for male attention, despite Garrett’s best efforts to be there for his dead brother’s family. Tia’s throat felt tight and she had to take a measured breath to hold back emotions that always hit her at the worst moments.

When Danny met her gaze, she saw something flicker there. “I better get back to my post,” he said after a moment. “But you’re welcome to stop in some day for the ambulance tour. Call ahead to see if I’m here and I’ll squeeze in time for you.” Though his words had included everyone, his eyes ended on Tia. “It was a pleasure meeting you all.”

He left them at the table where they were doing rub-on tattoos, and Tia watched him return to duty at the line of kids.

* * *

“Samantha, put down the fire truck and get over here and eat your breakfast. You’re going to be late.” Tia growled under her breath and handed Tristi a second sippy cup of juice. The first was still spread across the kitchen floor from when Tristi had “dropped” it. That game was getting awfully old.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Mom,” Samantha called from the living room. She moved the truck slowly into place beside the rest of her collection, making beeping noises as she backed it in.

“Now, Samantha Marie, or you’ll be missing out on breakfast entirely!”

Samantha slouched across the room to the table. “I had to put the truck back. They have to be washed and returned to the firehouse after every time you take them out, so they’ll be ready for next time.” She left the implied ‘duh’ off the end of her sentence. “Danny wouldn’t want me to be irrsponsble.” She struggled through the last word.

Danny had been the main topic of the five-year-old’s interest since leaving the fire station the previous evening. Tia blamed Lee, who had been so sure he was going to have a boy, he’d cleaned out all of the Tonka trucks and Matchbox cars at local yard sales before the birth. Their daughter had been in love with them since she was able to focus on what he had placed in her hand. After all, he’d said, he wasn’t raising his girl to be a sissy who only played with dolls.

The memory made Tia smile, even as an ache pierced her chest again. It seemed Lee was always on her thoughts—more often lately as the second anniversary of his death approached. “It
is
important to be responsible,” she told her daughter as she put away the extra bread and eggs. “But school is your most important job right now, so you need to take it seriously—even more than you do your fire trucks.”

Samantha huffed, but dutifully forked up some scrambled eggs.

Tristi began to call loudly, signaling she was done and wanted out, so Tia unbelted the toddler—who without the belt, would have been face first on the floor minutes after being placed in the high chair—and hauled her over to the sink to clean her sticky hands and face.

The tune to “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge started to chime, and she sighed. It was her mother’s cell phone ring. Tia didn’t have time for hysterics right now, but if she didn’t answer, her mom would keep calling back, certain they had all died of carbon monoxide poisoning or something. Then the police would end up at her house on a courtesy call—again—to make sure she was all right.

Still carrying around a sticky daughter, Tia dried her wet hand on her pants and reached into her front pocket for the phone. She maneuvered it open one-handed and tucked it into the crook of her shoulder. “Hello, Mom.” It used to be so much easier when the phones were like bricks instead of credit-card thin, she thought as she adjusted its position again.

“I still haven’t gotten those blood types from you.”

“I double-checked last night,” Tia said. It had been a couple of weeks since the conversation first came up. She had hoped her mom would have let it go for a more pressing imaginary emergency. “I was right the first time.”

“Tia. This is a serious matter. Are you sure you weren’t looking at Lee’s paperwork?”

“Mom, I checked, all right. You must be mistaken about Dad.” She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not. Call him and ask. Your paperwork must be wrong. You should have your blood typed again to see what it really is.”

“Fine, Mom. I’m sure you’re right.”
Except you’re not.
“I’ll check my other papers and get myself retyped if you want.”

When she finally hung up the phone, Tia felt a headache building behind her eyes. She was already seeing spots and wavy lines—the aura that was always a precursor to her migraines. She hurried to the medicine cabinet and downed a migraine pill, praying it would kick the thing before she had to run Samantha to school. Tia really didn’t have time to deal with a migraine when she had to film her cooking segment in less than four hours.