“Please call me Rose,” she insists. “Do you think I’m going to make it?”
“You’ll be just fine.” His lips quirk at the edges, and he chuckles softly before addressing the other remaining firefighter. “Martinez, you want to get on Miss Rose’s other side?”
“Miss Rose,” my sister echoes. “You make me sound like royalty.”
“A royal pain in the ass,” I mutter, and Oliver sputters a laugh.
Rose, on the other hand, is less amused. “Myra Jean, I’m wounded.”
“Yes, yes,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
I watch with amusement as Oliver and the Martinez fellow discuss strategy for how to get my sister right side up, and I push one of the dining chairs into the room. A few moments later, Rose is in the chair, and Oliver has filled out an incident report and checked her vitals.
“I do think you should take her to the emergency room for an X-ray. She could have fractured that foot,” Oliver says to me before turning to Rose. “But other than that, I think you’re going to be just fine.”
“That’s all thanks to you,” she says, squeezing his arm. “You gentlemen saved me.”
“Martinez, grab the transport chair for me, would you?” Oliver asks his colleague, then looks at me. “We’ll help you get her loaded in the car safely.”
“Sure thing,” Martinez says, disappearing outside.
“Did I hear the fire marshal say you’re the new guy?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
He nods. “New to the department, not new to being a firefighter. I moved here from Texas a couple of months ago.”
“Is that right?” I smile. “Do you have family here? A girlfriend, perhaps?”
“No girlfriend,” he answers politely, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, like lightning in a storm cloud. “And no family here, either.”
“That’s a shame,” Rose says.
I fiddle with the chain of my necklace. “How are you liking Loving?”
“I like it a lot.” His posture is open, friendly. “Everyone is so nice here. I do miss my friends back in Texas, though. I haven’t met many people outside of the fire hall.”
There it was—my “in.” “Well, why don’t you come to dinner here on Sunday? I’ve got three kids about your age. Maybe it would be helpful for you to meet some people outside the fire hall?”
“That’s a great idea,” Rose chirps from her chair as she stretches her arm to reach the cookie jar on the counter. She finally succeeds and digs another snickerdoodle from the container, shoving it into her mouth.
“Oh, I don’t know if I?—”
“Besides, we need to thank you for saving my life,” Rose says, somehow forming the words around her cookie.
“Exactly,” I agree. “It won’t be a big to-do. Very casual. And the Titans are playing Sunday afternoon. I’ve got a big screen that makes you feel like you’re on the field.”
“It’s true.” Rose places her hands on her hips. “It’s like you’re in the huddle.”
“Please say you’ll come,” I add. “It’ll be fun. I’ll roast a chicken and make some mashed potatoes.”
A smile stretches across Oliver’s face. “Why not? I love football, and a home-cooked meal sounds nice.”
“Wonderful.” I clasp my hands together. “Be here at two?”
“Better hurry,” Martinez says, rolling a black wheelchair into the room. “Chief just got a call. House fire. We need to roll out.”
Oliver transfers her over with ease and starts out the door, while I grab my purse, triple-check that I turned the oven off, and start the car.
Once Rose is tucked safely in the passenger seat of my car, Oliver looks to me. “I better get going, but it was nice meeting you, Myra Jean, is it?”
