Phoenix Feather (15 page)

“I need sources,” she said. “But I already remember everything I’ve read and where to find it again, so quit worrying.”

Trent shook his head. “That brain of yours is incredible.”

Aidan smirked. She could write her dissertation solely off what knowledge she had stored away in her mind. In academia though, one needed “reliable” sources. That slowed her down somewhat, but it still wouldn’t be that hard to write the paper. She could have written those sources she now needed to quote, and more accurately in many cases, but she’d have to settle for doing it like every other student. She was glad of Trent’s company. The image of them doing this in the future blossomed in her mind: watching a movie together after he got off a shift, her grading homework. She shook her head at herself, feeling silly.

“What?” He had apparently noticed.

“Just thinking ahead of the movie,” she said. “I won’t spoil anything for you though.”

Aidan already enjoyed the film, but sharing it with someone special made it all the more fun and relaxing. She even made significant progress on her work by the time the movie finished.

“Can I read it?” Trent asked.

“Why?” she responded guardedly. Only professors ever read her papers.

“I like history, remember? I could probably learn some new things from it.”

Aidan suddenly felt shy in a way she had never felt before, and it puzzled her. “Okay.” She pushed her computer over, and then went into the kitchen to wash the popcorn bowl while he read. She didn’t want to be studying his face, trying to decipher his thoughts as he read her paper; she knew it wouldn’t work and would only make her more nervous. It was ridiculous, this feeling of being exposed through something as distant as a written essay. She hadn’t felt this way about the book from the discussion group, but she had anonymity there. Her hands twitched and she looked around the kitchen for something else to wash, but Phoebe had done all the dishes last night while Aidan was out. She waited a few more minutes before going back into the living room and sitting down, trying to avoid watching Trent. Finally, he put the computer back on the table.

“You have a very engaging style,” he said. “I mean, I may like history, but textbooks are still rather dry. You make it sound like you were there.” He shook his head in amazement. “You were born for this.”

Aidan digested his words. Yes she was. Before now, she had taken her knowledge of history for granted, as just a token she carried with her throughout the ages. It wasn’t until this life that she thought to do something with it. Trent was right: this was her purpose. She no longer needed to drift through the world, biding her time for each century, trying to carve out a place in it. She could be its chronicler.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You’ll make an excellent teacher, Aidan.”

She took a deep breath of welling emotion and moved to sit next to him. “So, another movie?”

Trent grinned. “Sure.”

Chapter Thirteen

The firehouse teemed with the smell of turkey in the oven and spices in the air. They were cooking the bird, stuffing, rolls, and mashed potatoes themselves, but a local restaurant was providing casseroles and pies. Word had spread that Aidan would bring cookies. The station hummed with activity. Several guys worked in the kitchen preparing food while others gathered in the recreation part of the Day Room, cheering and groaning at a football game. Since everyone knew of Trent’s skill as a chef, and since he wasn’t a Seahawks fan, he was spending his morning in the kitchen.

“Greg’s getting out of the hospital today,” Sam said.

“I heard,” Trent replied. “That’s good that he gets the holiday at home with his family.”

“I think I’ll volunteer to work Christmas.”

“What?” Trent gave Sam an aversive look. “Why would you do that?”

Sam smirked. “My family’s not as pleasant as yours, although more talkative—of the drunken kind.”

“Ah.”

“Trent!” someone called. “Your girlfriend’s here.”

He wiped his hands on a towel and went down the hall, past the administration office, and to the lobby where Aidan stood waiting.

“I come as promised,” she said, lifting her arms in an encompassing gesture.

He scooped her up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She glanced at the walls, decorated with framed pictures of men fighting fires. “Can I have a tour?”

“Sure.” He took her hand and led her down the hall. He pointed out the fitness room with gym equipment, the laundry room, and the game room with Phooze ball and the TV with the game on.

“The kitchen.” He gestured at the door. Several of the men paused in their activities to smile and greet Aidan.

“What happened to the cookies?” Sam asked.

“They’re in the car,” Aidan replied. “They just need to be carried in.”

“Oh, I think that’s an order.” Sam raised his hand in a mock salute. “Keith! Come help.”

One of the men watching the game jumped up, and the two went out to get the cookies. Trent grinned at Aidan. “And back that way is the dorm where we try to sleep.”

“No Dalmatian?”

“Uh, no, not at this station.”

“Too bad.”

Trent nodded to Sam as he came back in with trays of cookies. “Well, Sam’s pretty well-behaved, and we keep him on a leash.”

“Thank you,” Sam retorted. Keith patted him on the back and winked.

Aidan grinned.

“Are you going to the nursing home next?” Trent asked.

She nodded. “We need to start early if we’re going to fit in so many small meals. The doctor says he’s making a good recovery. He’s able to eat most foods now, just not too much of them. He’s also doing well with physical therapy and is talking of going dancing soon.”

“That’s good.”

“You should invite Bryan when we go.”

“I’m working on him.” Trent was sorry he had ever given up on his brother, but at least this time Bryan was trying to be more receptive; Trent gave him that.

Aidan smiled. “I should get going.”

Trent walked her out to her car. “Tell Chris and Phoebe Happy Thanksgiving.”

“I will.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before reaching her hand around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. She tasted like exotic spices, intoxicating in a way that cleared his mind of everything else in the world but her at that moment. He deepened the kiss just a little, his tongue playing at the edges of her lips, but he had enough self-control—for now. She stirred an excitement in him close to the adrenaline he felt fighting fires, but much more enticing and lingering. They broke apart, and he reached up to brush her cheek.

“Have fun.”

She climbed in the car and he shut the door. He watched her drive away and knew that someday he was going to ask her to marry him.

***

“Does Aidan make good cookies?” Bryan asked.

“Most definitely,” Trent replied. “Now, are you coming by today or not?”

“I’m on my way to Jess’s sister’s.” Bryan had decided to spend Thanksgiving with Jess’s family because he had declined so many of their invitations before, and he was determined to break the cycle. He felt nervous, he realized ruefully; he was afraid remembering how to act human would be hard for him, and that didn’t sit well.

“Really?” Trent sounded skeptical.

Bryan sighed and turned to Jess, who was driving. “He doesn’t believe me.”

“It’s true, Trent,” she said loud enough for him to hear on the other end of the phone. “I’m even driving so he can’t duck out early.”

“Good for her,” Trent said.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be treated like a child who’s being punished?”

Trent just chuckled. “Have a good time then.”

“Right.” ‘Good’ was being optimistic. At this point, Bryan only hoped he wouldn’t be miserable. Especially since Jess was his ride out of there. He could always call a cab, but that would be rude. “Be careful out there,” Bryan said. Thanksgiving was a wonderful day for grease fires.

Trent said goodbye and hung up. Bryan let out a heavy sigh.

“You’re not even there yet. Buck up,” Jess said.

“Sorry. I’m just…out of practice.”

They finally arrived at her sister’s house, and Bryan took a deep breath as he got out of the car. He had met Kathy and her husband Rick before at gatherings, such as Jess’s birthday party and New Year’s celebrations, but that was a couple years ago. They were good people. Both worked to provide for their two kids: Charlie, nine, and Melissa, seven. They had accepted Bryan into their lives just as Trent had accepted Jess into his. The loyalty between partners often extended to their families.

The front door of the house opened before they had gone halfway up the walk. A woman with dark blond hair partially pulled back in a clip bounded out and wrapped Jess in a big hug. Kathy was the older sister by a few years, but between the make-up and dyeing her hair, she looked almost younger than Jess. Kathy turned to Bryan and smiled widely.

“I’m glad you could make it this year. Come inside!”

The house was pleasantly warm and the air full with the smell of spices. The game was on in the living room, but not very loud. Rick got up from the sofa and shook Bryan’s hand. He had bushy black hair and glasses, which gave him more of a distinguished look than a geeky one. He gave Jess a peck on the cheek. The kids came running from the back of the house, shouting, “Aunt Jess!”

Jess swept them both into a single hug. “Look who else is here,” she said with a wry grin.

“Uncle Bryan!” Charlie jumped up and down with his exclamation.

“Hey, kiddo. What have you been up to?”

“Dad put glow stars up in my room. Come see!” The kid pulled at Bryan’s arm.

“Charlie,” Kathy said in a gentle, but parental tone. “Ask Uncle Bryan if he would like to see your stars.”

Charlie rephrased his request and Bryan let the imp drag him to the back bedroom. Charlie showed him the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on his ceiling, and then Melissa wanted to show him her Playmobile town. Jess came back after a bit to call them to the dining room.

The food tasted amazing. Bryan was grateful he had decided to come and eat a real Thanksgiving meal rather than a frozen microwaveable dish at home. He found relaxing in the presence of good company easier than he expected, as though the memories of his life years ago were reawakening, stretching their unused muscles.

Kathy and Rick asked the kids to help them clear the table when the meal was over. Bryan leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach, satisfyingly full. Jess swirled the little bit of wine left in her glass and grinned at him.

“What?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You don’t need to sound so surprised,” he huffed. “I have done stuff like this before.”

She tried to cover her smirk, but he noticed. “You could have all this for yourself someday.”

“What, the nice family and the white picket fence?” he said sardonically.

“I know you and the job too well for that. I mean nieces and nephews of your own to dote upon. Believe me, it’s a blast.”

Bryan furrowed his brow. “You mean Trent.”

“You don’t like the idea?”

He hesitated. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Do you like Aidan? She obviously cares about Trent, and vice versa.”

Bryan thought about it. He hadn’t spent much time with her. Again, that was his fault. He understood what had probably attracted his brother to her. Trent had gotten swept up in her life, which involved sitting with her while she waited for a friend to come out of surgery. Trent was a gentleman to begin with, but that implied a serious investment he was willing to make.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “I think I do.”

Jess smiled just as Kathy brought in plates of pumpkin pie. Bryan complimented her after the first bite exploded with warm spices in his mouth. He would like to have what Jess had: a loving family he could be a part of, but not one fully dependent on him that would fall apart because of the demands of his work. He smiled as they ate their pie and talked, and only later in the afternoon did he realize that at some point he had stopped needing to force it.

***

The sky drizzled. Aidan, Phoebe, and Chris had just finished their fifth mini meal, and Chris wanted some fresh air out on the nursing home’s porch. He sat in a wicker chair, bundled in a heavy coat, while the girls sat on a swinging bench, wrapped in a thick wool blanket together. They watched the rain dribble off the gutters and spot the ground. Chris had informed them that he would be coming home on the first of December. His recovery was going well, and he’d be able to keep up his physical therapy routine and prepare food without needing to burden Phoebe. Finals were coming up also, but they didn’t seem so important anymore. Aidan could afford to study less and get by on her own knowledge, even if it meant a slightly lower grade. But she figured she would need to help Phoebe study, because now that Christmas loomed in the near future, so did the remainder of the doctor’s prognosis for Chris. The holiday would be filled with joy and a dark foreboding.