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“Beers.After our shift. You can’t say no.”
John Vigiano slammed his locker shut.
“Can’t.” I pulled my FDNY T-shirt over my head.
“Uh-uh. You’ve been saying that way too often lately. What’s going on with you?”
Nothing I wanted to talk about.
“If I miss one more dinner at my ma’s, she’ll kick my ass.” I put on a fresh shirt, a button-down so she wouldn’t complain about how I was dressed.
“On a Tuesday? I’ll never get you people with big families.” He punched my shoulder. “What do I gotta do to get a beer with my best friend? Make an appointment a month in advance?”
I shrugged. Seemed that way these days. “Let’s shoot for Thursday. I’ll be coming off twenty-four straight and will need it.”
He shot a finger gun at me. “I’m holding you to it.”
I pulled out my phone and pretended to type. “I’m putting you in my calendar. Pencil.”
He knocked my hand away from my phone. “While you’re at it, you better put in ink Hollingsworth invited us all over to his place on Saturday.”
“I don’t know if I’ll make it. Christina’s on baby alert.” I wanted a chance to hang out with the guys, but annoying the hell out of Beau made it too tempting to miss.
“How many nieces and nephews you got now? Do you even know all their names?”
“I just call all of themkid.” I lifted my chin. “You heard about that promotion yet?”
We only had a few more years before they wanted us off the front line. After forty, a desk job or retirement were the options. I didn’t like either.
“Not yet. Six people applied and I heard they were looking outside the department,” he said in disgust. “You better think about what you’re gonna do. You ain’t getting no younger.”
Not only did I love being a fireman, but I needed this job.
“I don’t fit behind a desk.” I grabbed my duffel bag and shut my locker.
“And that retirement won’t cover your bills.”
“Since when did you become a financial planner?” I fist-bumped him. “I gotta run. I’m already late.”
“Tell Mama Calhoun I said hey. And maybe I could get an invite over for some good food sometime?”
There was a time when I’d have asked him to come now, but I couldn’t. It was too volatile in the Calhoun household, and he didn’t need to see that.
“Next time.” It was a hollow promise, but it tamped my guilt down. “Hey, spot me twenty. I need gas but didn’t have time to go by the ATM.”
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Why would you when you got your ATM right here?”
He slapped the twenty-dollar bill in my palm.
“Thanks. I’ll hit you back tomorrow.”
“Bring me some leftovers and we’ll call it even.”
I shoved the bill in my pocket. “You know Ma’s food is worth way more than that.”
I hiked the bag on my shoulder, giving high-fives and fist-bumps to some of the other guys on the way out. My father’s picture was the first and last thing I saw every time I came and went from the station. I was a sixth-generation fireman and had a trail of heroes behind me.
Miss you, old man.
