MIKE THOUGHT about the firefighter lady as he lay in bed the night they had visited the firehouse. He liked her hair. Dad said all O’Neil men liked redheads. But Aunt Bailey had dark hair, and C.J. was blond and Mike liked them. Aunt Bailey was in Washington, but C.J. was back. That was nice. He wondered if she’d stay. Uncle Aidan said yes, but grown-ups sometimes made promises they couldn’t keep.
I love you more than anything in the world, his mother used to say to him. I’ll never leave you. Groping under his pillow, Mike took out the picture Uncle Aidan had taken of her and Mike. With his Cub Scout flashlight on, he could see her smiling, her arm around him, hugging him tight.
“Why did you have to go away, Mommy?”
She never talked back so Mike made up the answers all by himself.
“I know you were sick. But Daddy said God didn’t take you. It was a just a bad thing that happened, and God would help us deal with it.” He thought a minute. “If you’re with God, ask Him to help Dad be happier.” Bringing the photo to his lips, he kissed his mom’s cheek, said, “Good night,” and slipped it back under his pillow.
If his brother, Cleary, knew Mike did this every night, he’d call Mike a baby, but he didn’t care. It was almost like having his mom tuck him in. Thinking about her, he closed his eyes.
o0o
FROM WHERE SHE sat at a table by the huge window with BAILEY’S IRISH PUB scripted across the storefront, Sophie smiled over at Joe Carusotti. “It’s so good to see you, Joey.”
Tall, fit and looking like a young Robert DeNiro, he smiled back. His white captain’s shirt accented his dark hair and olive complexion. “Yeah, kiddo, me, too. It’s been crazy at the office.”
A harried-looking Dylan O’Neil approached their table. “Hey there, Sophie.” He nodded to Joe. “Sorry it took so long to get over here. We’re shorthanded, again. You ready to order?”
“What’s good today?” she asked
“Liam made a great turkey soup. And we got homemade corn bread.”
Joe nodded. “I’m in.”
“Same here.”
Dylan gave Joe a sideways glance before he walked away.
“So,” Joe said. “Find a roommate yet?”
“Nope. Probably because I don’t want one.”
“They need help at Paddock’s if you’re still interested in a part-time job.”
“I don’t wanna work at the gym. It kind of ruins the fun of going there.”
Joey laughed out loud. “Only you would think sweating your ass off and depleting your muscles was fun.”
“Have to stay in shape.”
They were distracted from the conversation when out on MacDougal Street a cab screeched to a halt and a guy whipped out of his car and yelled at a truck that was double-parked. The truck driver mouthed several obscenities.
Joe chuckled. “Gotta love New York.”
“That’s what Nate always said.”
“I, um, got an e-mail from him. Did you?”
“Yeah, I know he got a nasty burn in the last raid. Funny, I’m the firefighter and he’s the army captain, but he gets burned.”
“He sounded good, though.”
“As good as any career army guy can be these days. Damn, I wish we’d get out of Afghanistan.”
Joe laid his hand on hers. “I hate having him there, too.”
Always the big brother. She grinned and squeezed his hand. “How’s your dad?” His father had been on the squad that rescued Sophie and her brother twenty-some years ago. He’d recently become a battalion chief in Brooklyn.
“Good. He wants you to come to dinner.”
“I’m free Sunday.”
“I’ll tell him you’re coming.”
“Will Tommy Jr. be there?” she asked.
“That’s up in the air. As always, he’s unpredictable.”
Whereas Joe went into the fire department, his younger brother had become one of America’s finest. Since they’d grown up, Sophie didn’t see much of Tommy. As a kid, he’d been either hot-tempered or aloof—he still was sometimes—and she didn’t know him as well as Joe, who she was almost as close to as Nate.
Talk turned to the department. “I think we got a torch in lower Manhattan.”
“Yeah, I heard the guys from Squad 28 talking about it at breakfast last week. You on the case?” Joe was one of the arson investigators in the FDNY.
“Yep. With this newbie.” His dark eyes twinkled. “A girl.”
“Don’t start. It’s about time we had women in that position.” Though they’d made strides in the last decade, few women chose Joe’s field. It required hundreds of hours of training and police certification. Olivia Marsh was another trailblazer.
They bantered until Liam came through the kitchen door and over to their table. “Hi, Sophie. Sorry this is late. Bridget called in sick. Dylan and I are doing double duty.”
Because his face was lined with fatigue, Sophie gave him a big smile. “We’re in no hurry.”
He set the food down and glanced at Joe. “Hi.”
“This is Joe Carusotti, an arson investigator. Joe, this is the best cook in the world.”
“The breakfast Boy Wonder? Glad to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Enjoy.”
Surreptitiously, Sophie watched Liam leave. He wore jeans and the pub T-shirt. He had a nice butt, but she was a shoulder girl. He had great shoulders, too.
“You like this place?” Joe asked.
“Um, yeah, the food’s great.”
“The O’Neils are quite a family.”
“You’d never know their sister is Second Lady. They’re so down to earth.”
Only sporadic conversation interrupted their meal as they devoured lunch. When she finished, Sophie noticed people waiting at the door. Scattered around the dining room were empty tables but they were laden with dirty dishes. Poor guys.
Joe glanced back at the kitchen. “I’d like coffee but it doesn’t look like we’re gonna get some anytime soon.”
Noticing a pot on a standoff to the side, Sophie rose, poured them both coffee and sat back down. They pushed their plates to the side. When Joe finished his coffee, he reached into his pocket.
“Don’t you dare. This is my treat. And if you don’t let me pay, I’m not gonna have lunch with you again.”
“Well, I got a meeting in thirty minutes, and the bill isn’t here.” Pushing back his chair, he stood, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You win this time. See you Sunday.”
After he left, Sophie rose to go get more coffee and noticed Dylan was on the floor again; he glanced around the interior, shook his head and went back to the orders he was taking from a foursome who’d been waiting some time.
What the hell, she thought. She picked up the dishes from her table and brought them to the tub off to the side. Snagging a rag from the bar, she wiped off her table and cleared the one next to it. Immediately, six people sat down. “It’s about time,” a woman in a huff said to her.
“Sorry. A waitress called in sick.”
Near the coffee stand were the menus. She handed them out, served water for the new people and cleared the next three tables that had sat unattended.
Again, Liam came out of the kitchen with food for customers. His eyes widened when he saw what she’d done. After he served the meals, he came over to her. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged. “I know you’re shorthanded. I’m free for a few hours. I thought I’d help out.”
His blue eyes sparkled like gemstones. It startled her for a minute. “You are an absolute doll, Sophie Tyler.”
“Hmm. That’s nice to hear. Shall I keep going?”
“Please. We’ll owe you big time.”
Sophie winked at him. “I’ll try to think of appropriate...payment.”
“You do that, lass.”
She noticed he was smiling all the way back to the kitchen.
o0o
FROM THE STOVE, Liam glanced over at Dylan, who’d just come into the kitchen and dropped down onto a stool. “Damn, that was hectic.”
“Where’d they all come from?”
“I don’t know. We have to hire somebody ASAP.” Dylan nodded the door. “Sophie was a lifesaver.”
“No pun intended.” Liam chuckled. “We owe her.”
“Thinking of paying up, little brother?”
“Can it. She’s a nice woman.”
“That she is.”
Thoughtfully, Liam stirred a cream sauce he was experimenting with. “She took a shine to Mikey.” He explained what had happened at the firehouse last week.
“Hmm. Sweet, too.”
Patrick rushed in though the back door. His eyes were flaming. “That man is gonna be the death of me.”
“Who?” Dylan asked.
“Pa. I met him on the way in and he started on me about Brie. Again!”
Pa and Patrick had similar personalities and went head-to-head about a lot of things. And the fact that Pa had left the family for a while when they were all young still rankled his older brother. “Forget it. Who’s sweet? I heard you say that when I came in.”
Dylan glanced at Liam, who shrugged, and Dylan let any discussion of Pa go. “Sophie Tyler. She helped out today with lunch. Bridget’s sick.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Silence. This time, Dylan and Liam made a point of not looking at each other. Finally Liam said, “This is your day with Isabella.”
“I could have brought her with me.”
“We didn’t want to ruin your time with her.”
“Translated, you didn’t want to cause more trouble between me and Brie. Fuck it, I can handle my life and the pub.”
“Yeah,” Dylan said dryly, “we can see that.”
“Don’t start.”
“Then don’t be such a shit when we’re being considerate.”
“I—”
The door opened and Sophie walked in. Liam was grateful for the abrupt halt in the words that were about to erupt into a full scale fight. Paddy was short-tempered as hell these days and Dylan needed lessons in tolerance. “Hey, girl,” Liam said.
Unwrapping the towel from around her hips—they were nice hips, not too slender, not wide—she smiled. “All cleaned up out there.”
“I heard what you did.” Pat crossed to her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Haven’t bussed tables in years.”
“Want a job?” Dylan asked, flirting again. “You’re a lot prettier than any of us. I think that’s why people stayed so long.”
She cocked her head. The overhead lights caught the reddish strands mixed with a bit of gold. “As a matter of fact, I might.”
All three brothers stared at her.
“I saw your sign and was thinking about applying.”
“But you have a job.” This from Pat.
“Yeah and I make good money. But my roommate just got married. I’d like the apartment to myself. I can’t swing the rent alone, though. I was thinking about taking something part-time.”
“When could you work?” Dylan asked.
“We’re on nine-and fifteen-hour tours. I have four days off in between blocks.”
“That’d be okay.” Pat’s mood brightened. “If we’re anything, we’re flexible.”
“I have to be honest. I’d need two hundred and fifty dollars a week but I can work as many hours as that would take.”
“Easy. Between salary and tips, you’d make that.”
“I did a stint as a bartender once while I was waiting to get into the fire department.”
“You’re hired,” all three said together.
“When can you start?” Paddy asked.
“She already did.” Dylan walked over and gave her a hug. “Welcome to Bailey’s Irish Pub, Sophie Tyler.”
o0o
CAPTAIN YVETTE TRUDEAU wasn’t nearly as pretty as her name. Oh, she was nice-enough-looking, but she was a stone-cold bitch, furthering some of the stereotypes of women in the FDNY. Everybody hated it when she subbed on their shift for the officer in charge, like today. Jim Mackenzie had furlough time, so Yvette was in charge of Company 14.
“Housekeeping duties are up,” she said as she entered the kitchen. The truck squad sat drinking coffee around the scarred table that had the names of those killed on 9/11 carved into it. “Hop to it.”
“There bunnies here, Captain?” Cooper looked innocent, but his jaw tightened. God, didn’t the woman know not to mess with him?
“Funny. Get moving, Torres.”
Julian jumped up. Bilotti eyed Cooper over the top of his newspaper. Sophie caught their glances. They could pick on the probie all they wanted—they were supposed to—but he was off limits to anybody else. Bilotti stood, placed his hand on Jules’s shoulder and pushed him back down onto the chair. “You need more coffee, kid. I’ll get it for you.”
Trudeau’s face reddened. “Suit yourself. Training’s in an hour. You wanna do stuff last minute, it’s your ass. But,” she said, turning away, “letters will go in folders if housework is not done properly. “
“I’m shivering in my boots,” Murray mumbled.
“What was that, Murray?”
“Nothing, Captain.”
She walked out and Cooper snorted. “Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed.”
Murray quipped, “She doesn’t have a right side.”
“Hey, you know where that term came from?” Jules asked.
Sophie smiled at the probie. “Where?”
“Left-handed people used to be considered defective. So family members tried to break the habit. They’d push the lefty’s bed to the wall and made him get up on the opposite side, causing the person to be cranky.”
Bilotti made a rude noise. “She’s right-handed, kid.”
“And I’m left,” Sophie said. “Look how sweet I am.”
“Yeah, sugar, you sure are.” This from Murray, whose flirting and un-PC language was harmless.
They bantered a bit, finished their coffee, then headed out to check the housework detail. Sophie sighed as she read it. “Why the hell does she hate me so much?”
Cooper put his hand on her neck. “ ’Cause the guys like you. Even our big friend over there.”
Tony Bilotti had had a lot of trouble with Sophie the first two years after she joined the group. He was one of the ones who’d believed women didn’t belong in the fire department. But Sophie had proved herself over and over, and he’d finally let up.
Cooper’s comment and the reference to Bilotti’s acceptance of her made cleaning the toilets easier. When she finished and joined the rest of them in the bay for training, Sophie was whistling.
Standing by the rig, Trudeau shot her a frown. “You got something to smile about, Tyler?”
“I’m just happy in the morning, Captain.”
The other woman’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what Ray says.”
“What?”
“Your ex. He says you were a zombie in the morning.” She let the innuendo hang.
Bilotti came to one side of Sophie and Cooper the other. “You enjoying Sophie’s castoffs, Trudeau?” Cooper asked.
The other woman’s entire stance straightened. “I’ll report you for sexual harassment if you say one more word along that vein.”
Cooper glared at her. Only a fool tangled with him; his bald head and bull-like appearance intimated everybody. Quickly, Trudeau looked away and picked up her clipboard. “Here’s the drill. We’re doing confined-space training today.”
Torres stiffened. Probies had trouble with this CST. Mackenzie was waiting to broach it until Jules had been with them longer.
Stiffly, like she had a stick up her ass, Trudeau moved to the pipe, which was twenty feet long and five feet in diameter. “I’ll go first to demonstrate.” She dropped down to her knees at the opening. The far end of the pipe was covered so it would be pitch-black inside. “Time me.”
As soon as Trudeau got inside, Bilotti said, “Bitch.”
“I won’t be able to do it.” Jules was sweating now.
Sophie squeezed the kid’s arm. “Lots of experienced firefighters panic the first few times in the pipe, Jules.”
Bilotti thought a minute, then nodded to Murray, who caught Cooper’s eye and signaled Sophie with a cock of his chin. They all grinned.
When Trudeau crawled out through the cloth blocking the far end, she rolled to her feet and faced them. Sweat beaded on her brow and she was breathing hard. Lay people had no idea the toll crawling through small, dark spaces took on firefighters.
“How long?”
Murray shrugged. “Oops.”
Her face flaming now, Trudeau gestured to Sophie. “Your turn, Tyler.”
Whipping off the FDNY sweatshirt she’d pulled on over her uniform, Sophie trudged to the pipe. She sank to her knees and took deep breaths.
“Close your eyes, Tyler,” Murray called out.
She stuck her head in.
“Imagine good things,” Bilotti yelled.
These were all tactics firefighters used to get through the drill. Inching her way in, she waited until she was completely inside, then stopped. Cooper’s voice came from the far end. “Come on, Sophie baby. You can do it.”
She waited a bit then she slid back out the front. Coming onto her knees, she shot a dejected look up at Trudeau. “Sorry, I can’t.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re a twelve-year veteran. You’ve done it before.”
“Sorry. Must be that it’s too early in the morning for me.” She arched a brow. “Regs say if we can’t make it, we can try another time.”
Trudeau glowered at her then turned to the guys. “Murray, go next.”
Murray knelt in front of the pipe and wiggled his body inside. He made it halfway then crawled out backward.
“What the fuck? If you can make it halfway down, you can make it the whole way.”
Running a hand through his hair, Murray couldn’t conceal the mirth in his blue eyes. “Don’t know what’s got into me.”
Bilotti finagled his shoulders through, then quit.
So when Jules positioned himself in front of the pipe, took in several deep breaths and got in a third of the way before backing out, which was typical for probies, everybody was innocence personified.
“You’re all a piece of work,” Trudeau spat out. “I’m reporting this to your captain.”
“Guess we have to take it on the chin.” Bilotti could barely control a smirk.
Trudeau stomped out of the bay.
When she was gone, Sophie raised her hand for a high five from the group.
Torres said, “Thanks, guys.”
Cooper’s gaze narrowed. “For what, probie?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bilotti’s scowl was fierce.
“Don’t gloat over our inadequacies,” Sophie said haughtily.
God, she loved being a firefighter.