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The door to the shop opens, and Chief Fisk walks in. He makes eye contact with the captain and waves. “The chief is here?”
Emmy glances toward the door. “Oh, I’m so glad he made it! I wasn’t sure he could come!”
I watch as the man glances around the room—and I’m surprised when he doesn’t walk over to the firefighters, but instead, heads straight for The Coffin Dodgers. He reaches them, and Marco steps out from the group and shakes his hand.
Like they’re old friends.
“Huh,” Emmy says. “I guess he knows Marco.”
My mind spins back to the day the chief called me over. The conversation I had with him echoes back—it was the day he told me someone called to tell him I’d shown great leadership potential.
I look at Marco.
There’s no way.
He glances at me and when we make eye contact, he stops talking and raises a brow, so slightly I almost miss it.
And then, he nods. A nod, it seems, of approval.
I nod back, hoping to convey my thanks, and he goes back to talking to the chief.
“Owen, will you get over here so we can take some pictures?” Liz, bossy as ever.
I give her a little wave, and when Emmy and I step over to the cake, the captain’s wife grins at both of us. “I knew the calendar wouldn’t be the last time I got to take a photo of the two of you. Now, scoot together.”
The photos are a lot less awkward this time around.
I spend the next five minutes posing for photos with various groups—my family (who are all quick to convey how proud they are of me, a feeling I’m not sure how to process), the guys from the station, the chief and the captain, Emmy and her family, just Emmy, and even Marco and the other Coffin Dodgers.
Finally, Ernie says what everyone is thinking, “Can we just cut the cake already!?”
A laugh ripples through the crowd, and we spend the rest of the evening there, celebrating something I’d done right.
It feels good.
After the crowd has dwindled, I pull Emmy over into the thrilling romance aisle of the bookshop and plant a kiss on her lips so fully it should come with a PG-13 rating.
When I pull back, I search her eyes and find nothing but joy. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She grins. “I do know that.”
“I’m serious,” I tell her. “Nobody’s ever done something like this for me.” I pause. “I never gave anyone very many reasons to celebrate, I guess.”
“But look at you now,” she says.
I nod. “Look at me now.”
I think back to what the captain said about Liz grounding him, calming him, and I see how that happens. Things that seemed to matter before Emmy just don’t anymore.
I face her, about to attempt a new way of telling her how much I love her when something out the window catches my eye.
Emmy frowns up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Come with me.”
It’s dark by now, and the spring air outside is cool, but not cold.
We step out onto the street and instantly, cool drops of rain wet my face.
