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Bridget moved her hand over to Roberta to take hers, careful to do it as unobtrusively as she could.
“Aw, you’re nice. Thank you.” Roberta happened to look up. “Aw, shit. Here comes Patty. Sit tight.” She squeezed Bridget’s hand, but didn’t let go.
“Hello, Mrs. Saint,” Patty said, walking right up to them.
Bridget had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. Patty was a stereotypical gorgeous Southern California blond, almost Barbie dollish. Tall, thin with huge boobs and a golden tan, she had unbelievably long legs, and it took every bit of willpower not to envision them wrapped around Tony’s waist. Blond hair, layered and curled, tumbled over her shoulders. For some reason, she wore a little tiara-like thing in her hair. Maybe she had just come from a wedding shower or something. A tiny waist accented those boobs, a white, low-cut tank top tucked into torn jeans, and those ever-present platform, impossibly high-heeled sandals on her perfectly manicured feet. Bridget vowed never to wear them.
“This is Tony’s girlfriend, Bridget,” Roberta said, almost shouting it over the din of the crowd.
“Anthony’s dating already? That was quick.”
It was on the tip of Bridget’s tongue to sayjust one date, but she didn’t. It wasn’t her place to keep Patty informed.
“Table for Saint,” the hostess called out.
“That’s us,” Roberta said, standing up.
She helped Bridget with the baby, although it wasn’t needed, going out of her way to let Patty knowthere was a baby, and she was okay with it.
“It was nice meeting you,” Bridget said with her sweetest smile just as Candy and Joey came back from their huddle in the corner.
“Likewise,” Patty said, moving aside so they could get by.
“Bye,” Candy said, waving, and they moved on to the dining room. “What was with the tiara?”
“She wears it all the time,” Roberta said. “Like I wear my cross and gold chain. It’s Patty’s tiara.”
It was a huge fire, but fortunately not near any structures. Big Mike worked the tender while the younger men wielded axes and shovels. It was early in the season for such a big fire, and they hoped it didn’t portend what was to come. Tankers arrived and dropped fire retardant over the unburned hillside; then water-bucket-wielding helicopters dropped water on the fire, providing an end in sight to the battle.
It was finally safe for the extra help to leave. Big Mike was exhausted, but he waited for his sons. Tony and his brother Mike climbed down the steep embankment arm in arm, and they saw their father waiting.
“Hey, Pop, can we leave yet?” Tony called out, laughing.
“My boys. I’m so proud of you,” he said, weeping.
“Aw, we’re proud of you, too, Pop,” Mike Junior said, patting his back while Tony winked, taking Big Mike’s arm.
They hiked back to the trucks and rode in silence back to the station. It was dark by the time they got there. Rather than wait for a shower stall to free up, they got out of their turnout gear and pulled on sweatpants and T-shirts so they didn’t dirty their dressy church clothes.
“You two had better get out of here before another alarm goes off,” Mike said. “I wish I were coming along.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, son,” Big Mike said.
“I hate to get into your car when I’m so dirty,” Tony said.
“The car will wash up. I’m telling you, I was so relieved to see you two boys come down that canyon wall. I just had a feeling all day about it.”
“Pop, we’re safe, okay. No worries. Why don’t you let me drive?”
Never would a Saint boy suggest to their father that they drive, but tonight it seemed important, like Big Mike might be suffering. He threw his son the keys.
“This is a stupid car for a big man,” he said, grunting to get down into it.
“It’s the nicest stupid car I’ve ever driven.”
“I tried to say no to Charlie, but he wanted me to have it. I hope you boys feel about each other the same way Charlie and I do.”
“We do, Pop,” Tony said.
