From Air (Wildfire)

Chapter Thirty-Four

CALVIN

I spend the night with my grandma and let Melissa stay with Jamie.

The next morning, I wake to the fruity aroma of light roast coffee.

“Quick trip?” Grandma asks, pouring me a cup.

“My flight’s in four hours.” I sip the coffee. “Yeah, quick trip. I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

“Because my boy’s in love.” She grins behind her mug.

“Because I’m her—”

“Calvin, so help me; if you lie, I will wash your mouth out with soap.”

I shake my head with a chuckle. “I tried not to love her.”

“You failed.” She eyes me much like my mother did—all knowing. A not-so-subtle gloat.

“Miserably.”

She holds up her crooked finger. “It’s time.” Bending forward, she grabs the table’s edge and stands, making her way into the bedroom. A few minutes later, she returns. “I found this a while back. I think it was your mother’s. She must not have been wearing it that day, or perhaps the hospital returned it to the family. I don’t remember.”

I stare at my mom’s diamond wedding ring on the table before me. The hospital didn’t return it. There’s no way she was wearing it. “Grandma—”

“She’d want you to give it to the woman you’ll marry.”

After she eases back into her chair, I reach across the table and rest my hand on hers. “I’m not getting married.” I could continue to feed her lies, but I don’t want her saying anything to Jamie. There’s no need to break both of their hearts with my truth.

“Well, maybe not today. But perhaps someday.”

I pick up the ring, holding it between my thumb and index fingers. “I think I love her too much to marry her.”

She scoffs. “Nonsense. What could you possibly mean by that?”

My grandma doesn’t remember her grief. She doesn’t remember the depression. She doesn’t remember the suicide attempts. She doesn’t know how many times she told me never to get married. Never to put my heart in that position. Never to have children.

No family to abandon.

No emotional accountability.

Just a life of service and good deeds.

I don’t know my count on good deeds, but I’ve been serving as a firefighter my whole adult life.

“I have a high-risk job. Jamie deserves to sleep at night without wondering if I’m coming home in one piece or at all.”

“Is that what she said or your decision for her?”

I set the ring on the table and slide it toward her. “It’s the decision I made for myself years ago. Abandonment sucks.”

“You weren’t abandoned.” She’s right. That was her term. After my grandfather died, she said her family “abandoned” her.

“Orphaned.”

Grandma winces.

Glancing at my watch, I take another sip of coffee before standing. “If I’m going to spend a little more time with Jamie before I leave, I’d better get going.” I bend over and hug her. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She reaches for my hand and places the ring into it. “It’s yours, Calvin. Whether you give it to anyone or not, it’s yours.”

With a pained smile, I slide it into my pocket and nod. “Thank you.”

Jamie buzzes me in and waits for me at her door. She’s in leggings and a T-shirt. Big smile. Wet freshly showered hair. And her black eyes are slightly more violet than blue today. Still, she shines, making my aching, regretful heart rattle.

“Good morning.” I kiss her on the cheek.

She clutches my shirt as I begin to stand straight and pulls me back to her for a kiss on the mouth.

“Morning,” she says, grinning against my lips. “Is your flight on time?”

“So far.” I shut the door behind me. “Where’s Melissa?”

“The library or a coffee shop. She’s researching my patient to see if there’s any connection to my mom.”

“What’s wrong with your computer?” I nod toward her desk.

“She wanted to give us some time alone since you’re leaving today.”

“That was generous of her. How are you feeling?”

“No headache today. And I’m less groggy. My nose is still stuffy. But my eye doesn’t hurt as much. I messaged work this morning. I think it’s time to go back. I’m doing half a shift tomorrow.” She sits in her desk chair, so I sit on her bed.

“Progress is good.”

“Yes. I feel bad that you made such a quick trip for nothing.”

“I got to see you. That’s something .”

She frowns. “I’m not exactly a pleasant sight to see.”

“I disagree, but if you want to see me with both eyes, you should come to Missoula when you’re all healed.”

“That sounds like an invitation I can’t refuse.” She bites her bottom lip and smiles.

“Will and Maren would love to see you. Gary and Evette too. Hell, they’d love an excuse to have a party.” I glance around the room. There’s a container and a white envelope on the kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

She follows my gaze. “Oh, it’s, uh ... a cupcake and a card.”

“For who?”

Jamie clears her throat and smiles. “For me.”

“From who?” I stand and grab the card next to the empty envelope.

Happy birthday to the world’s best friend.

Love you! Mel

“It’s”—I slowly turn—“your birthday?”

“It, uh ... yes. But it’s just another day. I nearly forgot it until Melissa gave me the cupcake and card.”

Reason number seven hundred and sixty-three why I don’t do relationships: they require remembering important dates.

I’m an asshole. No matter how she tries to spin it or downplay it, I’m an asshole.

Her phone chimes, and she glances at the screen and smiles. I steal it from her.

“Fitz!”

It’s a text from Evette.

Happy birthday, Jamie! Hope you’re recovering well. Love from me and Gary!

I swipe out of that message and discover messages from Will and Maren as well. Both wishing her a speedy recovery and a happy birthday.

“It’s no big deal,” she murmurs when I return her phone.

“You could have mentioned it.”

“That’s uncool. You don’t remind people that it’s your birthday.” She crawls into her bed, leaning on her pillows against the wall.

“What can I do for you?”

“You being here is everything.”

I run my hands through my hair. “I’m such a dick.”

“Yes. But you’re the bigger dick. Or at least you were at the anniversary party.” She grins—my girl’s poor face. I want to break into the jail and beat the life out of her neighbor.

She nods toward the box of tissues on her desk. “Make me a dozen roses.”

“I’ll go buy you a dozen roses.”

“That’s just lazy. I want Calvin Fitzgerald originals.”

With not much time before I have to leave for the airport, I sit at the desk and construct a dozen tissue roses, placing them in a blue glass.

“I love watching you do that. It’s crack. You’re patient and meticulous. What else is in your origami repertoire?”

I return an uneven smile. “This is it. I’m a one-trick pony. My mom taught me.”

Jamie smiles with a little emotion in her eyes. “They’re beautiful. Come here.” She pats the bed beside her.

I sit on the end and lie back with my head on her legs. She fists my shirt in her hand and pulls it up my torso, then traces her finger over my tattoo.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

Her finger pauses. “You wanted the tattoo?”

Blowing a long breath out of my nose, I close my eyes without answering her.

“Am I yours?” she murmurs.

It’s unfair of her to ask me that on her birthday with my head in her lap and her soft hand stroking my skin. “You’re mine.”

She brings my hand to the back of her neck. “Are you mine?”

The wall I built many years ago begins to crack. There’s another man out there, probably many men, who would love her until the day they die, who would give her the life she wants.

Marriage.

Babies.

Security.

Home by five.

Help with dinner dishes.

Men who would sure as fuck know and remember her birthday.

She should want those men.

Jamie traces the outline of my lips with the pads of her fingers. “If you want to wait and see how my nose heals before you answer, I understand.”

God, I fucking love her.

I kiss her palm and wrist. “I’m yours.”