Jonah's Return (Detroit Heat Book 3) (11 page)

She stepped to the microphone at the front of the stage and addressed her school, "Good morning, Bennett Elementary.”

All four hundred kids answered in unison, "Good morning, Mrs. Grayson." Well trained, indeed.
 
Greyson, that was her name.
 
Laura Greyson.

"We have a special guest this morning. Firefighter Swain is from the Detroit Fire Department, and he's here today to talk about fire safety." She had a slow and sing-songy voice that must have been a requirement for anyone teaching elementary. "I want you on your best behavior. Everyone, please welcome Mr. Swain."

It was strange not hearing “lieutenant” in front of my name. I could sympathize with the military personnel that had difficulty transitioning back into civilian life. It was the little things that tripped me up.

"Good morning, Mr. Swain." The four hundred well-trained terrors ushered me to the microphone. I felt silly for letting my heart pound as much as it did. Why was this scarier than cutting holes in the roof of a fully engulfed house fire? Why was this more terrifying than a rescue mission inside a collapsed structure?

I stepped front and center, eight hundred eyes trained on me. Game time. I cleared my throat in preparation, and it reverberated through the gym. Lucky for me, the clichéd feedback wasn't there. I turned to the side and coughed before facing the microphone once again.

"Good morning, guys and gals. Like your principal said, I'm a firefighter with the Detroit fire department, and I want to talk with you guys about staying safe. I've got a question for you. Now, don't all shout out loud. I want to see some hands. Who can tell me the number to call in an emergency?"
 

A smattering of hands shot up across the gym floor. After a few seconds, I pointed at one of the children near the front row. She was a little girl in a yellow and white polka dot dress with a matching beret. "Um, you call 911." Her voice was soft, and I'm sure half the room didn't hear.

I nodded, exaggerating my movements. "That's right. If there's an emergency, you dial 911. On the count of three, I want everybody to say it with me. One, two, three."

Every child in the room screamed the number out loud, as if just waiting for a chance to blow off some steam. The collection of tiny voices bounced up every corner of the gym, and I realized their idle chatter before the presentation started was nothing compared to their roar.

Something about it made me laugh, "That's right. Good job, kids."

For the next half hour, I had their undivided attention. I didn't reach for the cards once, and after they had all shouted back to me, my nerves seemed to float away. Talking to them wasn't difficult, after all. Use small words and keep them engaged: nothing to it. I asked other questions to give some students a chance to raise their hands.

By the time I stepped back, I didn't even feel like I was in a room of that many tiny ones. It didn't feel so big at all. When Mrs. Grayson stepped back up to the microphone, I looked around. Even though the principal was talking, I saw that most of the eyes were still on me. It was strange and powerful. I think I might've actually gotten through to them.

"A big round of applause for Mr. Swain, kids." Even the principal turned around to clap for me, so I couldn’t have screwed up that badly. "I want everybody to give Firefighter Swain a big Bennett thank you."

My heart leapt in my chest when the huge group of children in the gym all thanked me at once. Maybe they weren't germ-riddled little tyrants, after all.

After my big speech had ended, I got to stop into each classroom for a few minutes and let the kids ask me questions. I let them handle the bunker gear, and I even took a few pictures to go up on the classroom walls.

Interacting with some of the older elementary children showed me that I didn't have to tell myself down nearly as much as I thought. They were very intelligent, and they could understand a lot more than I gave them credit for. I was surprised to find out that they understood how dangerous it was to be a firefighter. They understood more about life and death than I would've imagined.

And they were like sponges. I asked some questions to see how well they'd paid attention at the big assembly, and it was all in there. They had heard everything I said, and they understood it. The excitement on the children's faces made me wonder why I had ever been nervous in the first place.

Even younger kids asked really great questions; some I’d never heard before. They wanted to know how long I worked, how big the fire trucks were, anything and everything related to the fire service. I tried to remember the community outreach events I’d done with Engine 37, but none of them went as well as my visit to Bennett Elementary.
 

When I left the school around two in the afternoon, my cheeks hurt. As I pulled the fire department SUV door closed, I realized that my cheeks hurt from smiling. I stared at myself in the mirror, giving myself a questioning look. What the hell? Abbey was the only other person who could do that to me.

Heading back to the station, I tried to wrap my head around the day. I wasn't expecting a bad experience, per se, but I was
not
expecting it to go well; especially
that
well. It was a late spring day filled with sunshine and warmth, and I headed back to HQ with all the windows down. I took an indirect route back, allowing me to roll past Engine 50, one of the busiest in the entire city.

A couple guys were hosing off a ladder truck as I passed. They both raised a hand to me when they recognized the SUV. It was equipped with lights and sirens, and I couldn't help but give them a
whoop whoop
as I passed. I didn't know them, and they didn't know me, but we were part of the same brotherhood. Their station might have had a bad apple or two, just like Engine 37, but the mission was clearer to me.

As I drove through Detroit, I realized that it needed protection even if that protection came from egomaniacs and assholes.

I wanted to tell Abbey how things had gone at my first event, but that meant an apology.
Another
apology. I knew I shouldn't have blown her off, and I knew "I was scared" wasn't a good excuse. I had been scared two years before, and that had ended terribly.

Parking at HQ, I fully intended to walk right into her office and explain myself. I had to tell her how I felt about kids, how they weren't as bad as I thought, and how it was immature of me not to bring it up when Abbey how she felt about children. I was very good at digging holes, and it was time to start filling them in so I could throw the damn shovel away.

I knocked on Abbey's door with a hand already on the knob ready to head inside. When she responded, I headed in. Her expression changed the second she saw me.

I started writing, "Look, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I'm not a lie, I got a little freaked out, and –"

"Jonah, I'm a little busy." Her voice was granite. There was no hint of familiarity or warmth at all. "I've been swamped all day, and it's not going to let up. Maybe another time, huh?"

For a moment, I stood there staring at her. I'm not saying I didn't deserve it, but damn could she be cold when she wanted to be. I nodded, knowing when it was best to let her be. "Okay, I understand. We'll talk later." I didn't know if it was a statement or question, and Abbey didn't give me a response that helped out. Her eyes were back to the computer screen, and I was back outside her office.

I forced myself to write a quick summary of the event.
 
I thought it would keep my mind off things, but I was wrong.
 
I had expected backlash from Abbey, but I had also expected a chance to explain myself. I couldn't blame her, though. I'm sure her nerves were pretty fried from everything I had done for the last few weeks. Jumping back into her life, asking her out, maybe it was all too much too quick. All the sensations felt heightened: the good felt great, but the bad felt terrible.

She needed time to cool down. I knew that, but it didn't make things any easier. I was itching for a chance to explain myself, but I had to give her the time she needed. I didn't see her in the lobby of our building come 5 o'clock. I didn't have any texts from her, and I forced myself not to send her anything.

On my drive home, the phone buzzed in my pocket. I almost swerved into the other lane trying to dig my phone out. I grossed myself, but waited until I got to a red light. The text was not who I thought would be from. When the name came up, adrenaline pumped into my veins. Havens was the last person I wanted to hear from.

U better get that woman under control. I won't be as forgiving next time.

Jonah knew I was a tough woman. He had seen that when we were on Engine 37 together, and he understood that even when I forced him out of my office. At least, I hoped so. Yes, he had caught me at that moment, but it wasn’t like he lied to me. He had every right to cancel plans, just like I had shot his plans them ??? the day before.

I thought about texting him and asking him to come over that night. The whole second chance thing really had us at each other’s throats. There was a lot of tension, there was a lot of sexual tension, and I think we were still discovering what had changed over two years.

At the same time, his comments about children were still ringing in my ears. It wasn’t like I outright asked him, but he wasn’t pulling his punches when it came to his feelings. I wondered how he had done on his first prevention event at the elementary school. He had a smile on his face when he had come into my office, but maybe he was just happy to be rid of them.

At the end of the day, I decided having the night to myself might not be a bad idea. A night without Katie, a night without Jonah; Abbey time.

The world was going to be put aside for a little bit, except somebody forgot to tell the world. About ten minutes after I got home, there was a knock at my door. Not one knock, exactly, but one steady stream of knocks until I finally opened the door.

Jonah was standing there with wide eyes, his hands already in a defensive position, “You’re mad. I get that. You probably don’t want me to be here. I get that, too. If you’ll just let me say my piece, I’ll go, deal?”

Jonah was sweet. He was also dumb, but the sweet kind. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, defeated. “Say your piece, then I’ll say mine.”

“What I said this morning about kids? That was just me a little nervous and stressed out about being swamped by them. I’m grateful for this job, but before today, I didn’t know if I could do it. This whole new schedule, new job, new old relationship, it’s got me stressed. I shoulda told you that.” Jonah’s eyes were darting all over. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Jonah, Jonah.
 
Calm down. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not all right. I’m rambling.” His eyes came to a stop, and for a second Jonah didn’t say anything. Then, he looked up at me. “Your thing this morning wasn’t a meeting, was it?”

I clenched my jaw, knowing I couldn’t lie to him. “It wasn’t exactly a meeting.”

He nodded, speaking a little slower with more deliberate strength in his voice, “I got a text from Havens. You want to tell me how the meeting went?”

With Jonah calmed down, I could feel how much he cared for me. Despite my trying to push him away, he knew it was better for us to talk about what had been going on. I smiled and raised my right hand with the knuckles facing him.

“It didn’t go so well for him. Actually, it didn’t go so well for me, either. I thought the swelling would have gone down by now.” I didn’t really know if Jonah would be charmed by the tough girl act. He would have taken it as an insult to his manhood. I tried to give him a cute little look as I waited for his reaction.

"Jesus, Abbey. He sent me a text, said next time he wouldn't hold back." There was worry on his face, which really touched me.

"Are you serious?" The worry was touching, but it was completely unnecessary. "He didn't ‘let me off easy.’ I caught him by surprise and put him down in a single punch. As usual, he's all talk."

I watched Jonah process the story. I still wasn't sure how he was going to react. Jonah closed his eyes and put her hand over his face. He leaned against the door frame and rubbed his forehead. "You’re sure he’s not gonna retaliate? I really don't need bad blood carrying from one job to the next."