plaster walls to check for flames.
The guy’s elderly parents were pulled safely from the structure, but “Baby Al” was out cold. Until they tried to move him, and then he started yelling and pitching a fit. Jack and Ian went in and dragged the screaming guy out. Still drunk, he fought them tooth and nail, making it a real struggle to save the jackass’s life. Jack took a punch to his left eye that pissed him off and ached like a bitch.
From there, they had a few medicals, a few regulars—people who called for attention—and a report of smoke at a house on the south side of town. The smoke was centralized in a bedroom that could have been on that TV show Hoarders . When they shoveled the furniture and debris clear, they found a myriad of wires: phone, clock, computer, and so on, all crisscrossed and frayed.
And also a giant vibrator. Like eighteen inches giant.
The entire platoon managed to remain professional until they were on the engine, and then as a collective whole they completely lost it, laughing all the way back to the station.
When the next episode of Sweet Wars aired, Leah hadn’t planned on watching, but her grandma insisted, which was how she ended up staring at herself as she created a three-tiered lemon meringue tart as if her life were a DVD. She tried to remain distant from it, but though she was good at the distance thing with others, she’d never really mastered it for herself. So she took in her relaxed, smiling self whipping a meringue under the pressure of cameras, the other contestants, and the exceedingly tough, hard-assed celebrity judges.
Go her.
“I don’t like the panel. They yell too much. But that host, he’s a cutie.”
Rafe Vogel was also the producer of Sweet Wars , and while he was most definitely “a cutie” on the outside, he more resembled a snake on the inside.
“And look at you,” Grandma marveled. “I can’t get over you,” she said, as on screen Leah moved quickly and efficiently in spite of Rafe walking around stirring up angst and tension as he barked out the clock’s countdown. “You’re the doll of the season.”
“No.”
Elsie scoffed and reached over, picking up the current issue of TV Guide . Spread across the front of it was the entire cast, with Leah front and center.
Leah pointed to the woman next to her. “Suzie’s good too,” she said.
“Not as good as you.” Elsie set the TV Guide down on the coffee table and clapped her hands in glee. “You won it. I know you did. So when do you leave? The prize was one hundred grand and your own bakery, right? In the place of your choosing? You going to give me a hint?”
“You know I can’t tell you who won,” Leah said automatically, thinking how in the hell was she going to do this? How was she going to get out of Lucky Harbor before everyone saw the finals? How could she just leave the bakery, Elsie, Ali…Jack.
“I’m just so proud of you, honey. I’ll admit, you had me scared for a few years there. Switching colleges and career paths like other women switch hair color. I know your daddy didn’t help, making you doubt yourself all the time. He wasn’t a good man, Leah. Watching you suffer…” She shook her head. “I should have done more for you.”
“No, Grandma,” Leah said gently, putting her hand over Elsie’s. “You did everything you could. You were always there for me.”
“Always will be.” She turned her hand over in Leah’s and squeezed her fingers. “You’ve made something of yourself.”
If only that were true…
Chapter 7
J ack followed up his seventy-two hours on shift with a day of sleep for recovery. Then he and Kevin hit the park for Jack’s weekly baseball game.
Kevin was an old hat at baseball. He had a routine. Tied to the dugout bench in the shade, he usually dozed through the first few innings, and then by the bottom of the fifth he’d be nosing through the guys’ bags for snacks. If he played his cards correctly and gave the
The guy’s elderly parents were pulled safely from the structure, but “Baby Al” was out cold. Until they tried to move him, and then he started yelling and pitching a fit. Jack and Ian went in and dragged the screaming guy out. Still drunk, he fought them tooth and nail, making it a real struggle to save the jackass’s life. Jack took a punch to his left eye that pissed him off and ached like a bitch.
From there, they had a few medicals, a few regulars—people who called for attention—and a report of smoke at a house on the south side of town. The smoke was centralized in a bedroom that could have been on that TV show Hoarders . When they shoveled the furniture and debris clear, they found a myriad of wires: phone, clock, computer, and so on, all crisscrossed and frayed.
And also a giant vibrator. Like eighteen inches giant.
The entire platoon managed to remain professional until they were on the engine, and then as a collective whole they completely lost it, laughing all the way back to the station.
When the next episode of Sweet Wars aired, Leah hadn’t planned on watching, but her grandma insisted, which was how she ended up staring at herself as she created a three-tiered lemon meringue tart as if her life were a DVD. She tried to remain distant from it, but though she was good at the distance thing with others, she’d never really mastered it for herself. So she took in her relaxed, smiling self whipping a meringue under the pressure of cameras, the other contestants, and the exceedingly tough, hard-assed celebrity judges.
Go her.
“I don’t like the panel. They yell too much. But that host, he’s a cutie.”
Rafe Vogel was also the producer of Sweet Wars , and while he was most definitely “a cutie” on the outside, he more resembled a snake on the inside.
“And look at you,” Grandma marveled. “I can’t get over you,” she said, as on screen Leah moved quickly and efficiently in spite of Rafe walking around stirring up angst and tension as he barked out the clock’s countdown. “You’re the doll of the season.”
“No.”
Elsie scoffed and reached over, picking up the current issue of TV Guide . Spread across the front of it was the entire cast, with Leah front and center.
Leah pointed to the woman next to her. “Suzie’s good too,” she said.
“Not as good as you.” Elsie set the TV Guide down on the coffee table and clapped her hands in glee. “You won it. I know you did. So when do you leave? The prize was one hundred grand and your own bakery, right? In the place of your choosing? You going to give me a hint?”
“You know I can’t tell you who won,” Leah said automatically, thinking how in the hell was she going to do this? How was she going to get out of Lucky Harbor before everyone saw the finals? How could she just leave the bakery, Elsie, Ali…Jack.
“I’m just so proud of you, honey. I’ll admit, you had me scared for a few years there. Switching colleges and career paths like other women switch hair color. I know your daddy didn’t help, making you doubt yourself all the time. He wasn’t a good man, Leah. Watching you suffer…” She shook her head. “I should have done more for you.”
“No, Grandma,” Leah said gently, putting her hand over Elsie’s. “You did everything you could. You were always there for me.”
“Always will be.” She turned her hand over in Leah’s and squeezed her fingers. “You’ve made something of yourself.”
If only that were true…
Chapter 7
J ack followed up his seventy-two hours on shift with a day of sleep for recovery. Then he and Kevin hit the park for Jack’s weekly baseball game.
Kevin was an old hat at baseball. He had a routine. Tied to the dugout bench in the shade, he usually dozed through the first few innings, and then by the bottom of the fifth he’d be nosing through the guys’ bags for snacks. If he played his cards correctly and gave the
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