There was always plenty to do at the station, but Christmas Eve brought an extra duty. As soon as it turned dark it was time to take the truck, all decked out for the holidays, and visit the various neighborhoods, serenading residents with Christmas songs. This year it was Zach’s turn to be Santa and toss mini candy canes to all the neighborhood kids.
“We need another pillow,” Ray decided, eyeing Zach’s costume. “Man, you just don’t fill that thing out.”
“Then let’s put you in it. We won’t need any pillows,” Zach retorted.
“Amber thinks I’m just fine the way I am,” said Ray, untouched by the barb.
“She’s known you what, twenty-four hours? Give her time.”
“We’ve known each other longer than that.”
“E-mailing on HotHookUps.com,” Zach said in disgust.
“You can learn a lot about a person that way,” Ray insisted. “Anyway, we’ve had a date.” He grinned. “She’s really nice. And man, is she hot. Almost as hot as Merilee.”
At least this new chick had distracted Ray from Merilee. That was a good thing.
“We should all go out,” Ray said as he shoved another pillow at Zach.
“This isn’t going to fit,” Zach said with a frown.
Ray snatched back the pillow. “Never mind. Nobody’s gonna climb in the truck to see how fat you are anyway. We need to get going.”
And so off they went, armed with prerecorded music and the appropriate equipment to blast it loud enough to wake the dead, the truck decorated with lights and a huge Christmas wreath on its front, Ray driving and Zach hanging out the window, waving like some fool on a parade float. He much preferred the Fourth of July. Then they cruised down Angel Way with the siren at full tilt, looking buff in their uniforms. In this stupid red suit Zach looked like he’d escaped from the mall.
But this was a town tradition. When the truck rolled into a neighborhood playing “Here Comes Santa Claus” kids ran along the sidewalk, leaping for the candy Santa tossed. Senior citizens watched from their front windows, and moms and dads with little ones waved from their front porch.
As they drove through Falls View Estates one couple in particular held Zach’s attention. They stood in the doorway of a modest house encrusted with lights, its yard sporting a manger scene. They were young, standing so close together they looked as though they were one person, and the dad held a baby in his arms.
That could be you.
Zach quickly pushed away the thought as the truck left the housing development and rumbled off down the road. Yeah, the couple looked happy. They probably were, for now. But it wouldn’t last.
His reasonable argument should have popped that little bubble of longing. It always had in the past. But not this time. Something inside him insisted, Don’t be stupid—do you want to end up bitter and alone like old man Turner? End up that way? He was already there.
Next thing he knew, they’d turned and were circling the parking lot of the Angel Arms Apartments. Merilee’s place. Except Merilee wasn’t there. She’d be with her family by now, maybe getting ready to eat dinner. What did her parents look like? How did they look at each other across the table?
Ray gave him a shove. “Hey, turkey, smile!”
Zach forced the corners of his lips up. Why was he in a funk? His life wasn’t so bad.
Maybe not so good, either. They had just returned to the station when the holiday fun began. Dad called to check in. Zach looked at the caller I.D. on his cell and was tempted to let it roll over to voicemail. He loved his father, but he didn’t love hearing from Dad on Christmas Eve. It took three rings for the responsible half of his brain to override his reluctance. He picked up and said a wary hello.
“Hi, son,” Dad began. “I was just thinking about you.”
Dad was always thinking about him on Christmas Eve. And David. And Mom. Especially Mom. Especially after Dad had tossed back a couple of holiday drinks.
“How’re you doing, Dad?” Zach asked and braced himself for an answer.
For a moment his father didn’t speak and all Zach heard was the tinkling of ice. That would be Dad stirring his Scotch on the rocks with his finger. “Oh, fine. Got the cigars you sent. Thanks. Did you get my check?”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” He should have called the week before when it came, before Dad got feeling too sentimental.
“I thought maybe you could use it to buy a plane ticket to come see your old man this summer. It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah, it has.” He should go see his dad. Except every visit somehow turned into a thinly disguised interrogation about Mom. Kind of like Dad’s annual Christmas Eve call. Any minute now …
Sure enough. “How’s your mother? Have you talked to her?”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
Another silence fell, broken only by the tinkling of ice. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad she’s happy.” Dad heaved a big sigh. “You know, after all these years I still miss her. You kids grew up so fast. You know that? How’re you doing, son? I miss you.”
“We’ll get together this summer,” Zach promised.
“We had good times, you know.”
“I know, Dad. How’s Diane?” Zach asked in an attempt to steer the conversation in a less maudlin direction.
Now the silence went on for so long Zach wondered if the connection had been lost.
“Dad?”
“We’re separated.”
“I’m sorry,” Zach said.
And he truly was. The old man couldn’t seem to catch a break. Maybe the fact that he was making a habit of allowing Mom to haunt his life like the Ghost of Christmas Past had something to do with why wife number three had left him to ring in the holidays by himself.
It had been only three years ago that Zach had attended his father’s wedding—a catered affair at the home of Dad’s new in-laws, who were all of six years older than Dad. The champagne had flowed right along with the good wishes. The bride had looked at Dad like he was some kind of paperback hero, and Zach had hoped for the best. Apparently he’d hoped in vain.
Most people did. True love was myth.
“Oh, well. You know we really weren’t right together,” Dad said philosophically. “No one’s ever been right for me but your mother.”
Obviously Mom hadn’t agreed. Zach frowned.
“When you find the right woman, son, hold on to her.” The ice tinkled. “That’s all I’m saying.”
Zach sincerely hoped so. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “Well, here’s hoping the new year will be better for you.”
“My life’s in the toilet, son. How’d you say your mother is?”
“She’s fine.” She’s moved on. You should, too.
“And how are you?”
Oh, boy. “I’m fine, Dad.”
“Are you going to come see me this summer?”
Didn’t they just have this conversation? “Sure.”
“Maybe we should go to Australia and see your brother. Three bachelors living it up down under, eh?”
Picking up women in Australia with his father—there was a visual Zach was going to have trouble losing. “That’s a thought,” he said diplomatically. By morning Dad wouldn’t even remember he’d called, let alone what they’d talked about. Thank God. “Listen, Dad. I’m on duty. I’d better go.”
“Go? Oh, yeah. Sure. Well, Merry Christmas, son. Don’t forget you’re coming to see me this summer.”
“I won’t,” Zach promised.
By summer Dad would probably be getting married again and Zach would find himself at another garden wedding. Poor Dad. Did Mom have any idea what she’d done to him?
Probably not. Maybe she never meant to hurt him. Maybe they were drifting apart long before they split. Except they’d seemed fine. Everything had seemed fine … until it wasn’t.
Who knew what happened to anyone? People started out madly in love and then just wound up hurting each other. To get serious with anyone was asking for trouble. There was always somebody in the equation who messed things up. That thought opened the door for more unpleasant thoughts and visions of a not-so-good Christmas future, so Zach gave himself a mental shake and went in search of distraction.
Ray had popped in the DVD of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and the guys were settled around the TV with store-bought Christmas cookies and popcorn. Some laughs, some downtime with his buddies—perfect. Just what he needed. He helped himself to some popcorn and settled in a chair for what he hoped would be a quiet night. After the conversation with his father he needed it.
The night was quiet until the call came in at ten.
The Klaxon went off, shooting everybody off the couch like human fireworks. Then the information from CenCom came in over the intercom and it went through Zach like a bolt of electricity.
Men grabbed their self-contained breathing apparatus and their personal protective equipment and raced for the truck. Meanwhile the printer spat out the information, proof in black-and-white that Zach hadn’t imagined what he’d just heard.
In a matter of seconds they were on the truck and roaring down the street, battling the clock as well as the blaze, knowing it took only eight minutes for a house fire to spread from one room to another.
Adrenaline was not normally a factor. After a man had been doing this for a while, he concentrated on working with his team and getting the job done in the most efficient manner possible. Get the details, get the engine in place and the hose hooked up.
This time was different, though. Zach’s adrenaline was flowing like a raging river as the truck roared across town, siren blasting. He knew the address where they were going. Still, he kept thinking, Not my family. Oh, God, not my family. Suddenly it didn’t matter that his mom had turned his childhood upside down and married someone new, that another man had moved into his life and then moved them all in different directions. All that mattered was to get everyone out alive.
By the time the truck arrived fire was chewing up the east side of the house where the bedrooms were located. The neighborhood was all dressed up for Christmas, with lights on the houses and wreaths on the doors. A light snowfall was beginning to dust the ground. The blazing house made a mockery of the holiday scene. Flames licked the night sky and sparks flew dizzily from the smoke, arcing out like tiny demons.
A crowd of people had gathered on the street, many still in their holiday best, others with coats thrown on over bathrobes. Zach quickly spotted Mom and Kendra and Natalie. They were still dressed, wrapped in blankets and huddled together, holding each other and crying while a well-meaning neighbor attempted to console Mom by patting her shoulder.
But where was Al? Where the hell was Al?