Noah glared at him. “Yeah. And where were you?”
“I took my turn along with everyone else. You were so intent on the fire, you didn’t even see me. I didn’t think you wanted to stop and chat.”
Noah’s anger dissipated. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I took this one personally. I thought it was out. Even told the captain as much. The whole time, he was looking at flames in the windows above us.”
“Shit. That’s embarrassing.”
“No kidding.”
“Hey. It’s out now. Nobody died. I don’t think anyone was even injured.”
“Yeah. We were lucky.”
The captain overheard them. “Luck has nothing to do with it, Fierro. It’s out because we were here,puttingit out.”
Noah felt a little better. Firefighters knew when they could bust each other’s chops, but they also knew when not to. Sometimes they needed to hear what they were doingright. It was damned important they remember how vital a role they played in the community. Morale had a way of disintegrating fast if a firefighter felt he’d failed. But he hadn’t. The captain was right. He hadn’t started the fire—he’d put the fire out.
* * *
Sunday dinner at the Fierros was a mandatory event—or it might as well have been. Each son had the same schedule, so whenever they all had a Sunday off, they came home to the South End brownstone where they had all grown up. Mama Fierro expected nothing less, and if her expectations didn’t bring them home, her good cooking would.
Gathered around the enormous dining room table were the parents of this rowdy bunch, Antonio and Gabriella, their sons and significant others: Ryan and Chloe, Miguel and Sandra, Jayce and Kristine, Gabe and Misty with baby Tony, and finally the three remaining single sons, Dante, Noah, and Luca, who complained that they needed a larger table—again.
Gabriella Fierro, also known as Ma, Mom, and Grandma, gazed around the table with a wistful expression on her face.
“What?” Dante asked her.
The family members around the table glanced between him and his mother.
Gabriella smiled at her fifth son. “You’ve always been the perceptive one, haven’t you? It’s like you know what I’m thinking.”
“You just looked likesomethingwas floating through your brain. If I knew what it was, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
She chuckled. “Okay. I was just thinking about how lucky I am as a mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother. How proud I am of all of you.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” he said. “Can we eat now?”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “And the moment is gone. Yes, you can eat.”
The steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese was passed in one direction while a basket of garlic bread was passed the other way. Veggies followed the bread, and salad followed the spaghetti. Each male family member used tongs to pile their plates high. The females ate a little less greedily but enjoyed the rich Italian food just the same.
“So, what’s new?” Antonio asked after he’d swallowed his first bite. “Anything exciting happening to any of you?”
The dozen children and in-laws glanced at each other, but no one spoke up. That meant either everybody was waiting for someone else to start, or all the mouths around the table were full. Either way, the unusual silence demanded to be filled.
“Noah almost burned down Federal Street,” Dante said.
Forks froze halfway to his brothers’ mouths.
“I did not. Don’t listen to him,” Noah protested.
Dante laughed. “Okay. I exaggerated a little, but he did miss a fire in the walls, and it sprang up again.”
“Shit. How did you do that?” asked Jayce, now a Boston Fire Department captain.
“I didn’t! Well, I did, but not on purpose. Jeez.”
“That could happen to anybody,” said Antonio, the patriarch and a retired captain himself. “Not usually to one of my sons though. You didn’t smell smoke or see flames anywhere? Didn’t feel the heat? Didn’t your paranormal senses let you know something was wrong?”
