(This was a reader-input story. At the end of every chapter, a question was asked, and suggestions were made by the readers for ideas on the next chapter. It is now finished!)
Chapter 1
“Mom, do you have to do that now?”
Lainie Moon watched her mother tip a cigarette to the small flame of her lighter and suck in a lungful of smoke. Genna Moon’s green eyes narrowed at her daughter through the wispy tendrils curling up from between her fingers.
“This is my house, and I’ll damn well do what I want in it.”
“I know this is your house,” Lainie said, more patiently than she felt. “All I’m asking is that you take it out to the back porch so the smoke doesn’t bother the kids.”
Her mother quietly gathered her pack of full flavor menthols, her lighter, her ashtray, and her cup of coffee and stomped out of the kitchen. Lainie moaned as she put her head in her hands and thought, How the hell did I end up back under my mother's roof?
Three things popped immediately in her head. A month ago, her husband Gary of the last six years came home from work and announced, 1: he quit his job, 2: he bought a motorcycle, and 3: he wanted a divorce.
Gary earned his bread and butter as a software technician in a middling company with incompetent co-workers. He hated his job. So, Lainie wasn’t all that surprised that he finally quit. Her only concern was what they would do to pay the bills and put food on the table. Then when he said he purchased a motorcycle, again Lainie wasn’t shocked. Gary always wanted one, but she couldn’t figure out how he paid for it if he wasn’t working any more.
After that, he dropped the bomb and declared that he filed for a divorce. That astounded Lainie beyond comprehension. Granted, their marriage had become stale and boring, but she didn’t think they were that far beyond redemption. In the first few years as newlyweds, Lainie and Gary had been giddy with love for each other. Then the twins arrived, and life became routine. No more letting dinner burn on the stove because they couldn’t rip each other’s clothes off fast enough. And as time went by, even the quick sneaks of pleasure became further and further apart, until the once a month event had developed into a dreaded red circle on the refrigerator calendar.
Lainie slowly came to the realization that if they didn't do something quick, she would gradually fall out of love with him. Gary didn't seem the least bit concerned about their marriage. In fact, in the past year, he spent more and more time away from his family, always offering excuses as to why he couldn't spend his spare hours with his children and wife.
But Lainie had been down the heartbreak road once before, and she was determined not to go there again. She wanted to talk about the divorce, yet Gary refused. He said his mind was made up. They would sell the house and go their separate ways. He never once mentioned what would happen with the twins. Did they split custody? Did he even want to see his children? He had no answer for that, and his indifference sealed the deal for Lainie. Gary didn’t care one way or the other what kind of relationship he had with his children. Therefore, in Lainie's mind, her husband no longer existed.
But then the man went and broke his fool neck in a fatal accident on his new motorcycle, and Lainie never got a chance to argue one last case for their kids' well-being. Lainie was now a widow. At the dreadful age of thirty.
A small shuffling noise brought her back to her present situation. “Mama?”
Lainie lifted her head and stared into the green eyes of her small daughter. Opening her arms for Chloe to crawl into her lap, Lainie sighed. The world goes on.
“Is Daddy coming home soon?” Chloe rubbed her face on her tattered yellow blanket.
“No, baby. Daddy has a new home, remember?”
Chloe sighed dramatically as only a four-year-old can do. “I know. But I want him to come back to our home. He’ll be lonely up there in Heaven. Who’s he gonna play dolls with? And Chris is crying again because Daddy promised to build him that treehouse and he never did. And now he never will.”
Her children were still so young, so Lainie was surprised that Chris remembered that promise. The fact was that Gary promised a lot of things…and he never fulfilled any of them. Her heart broke a little more as she listened to the whimpers of her precious daughter.
“When we get our new house, we can build a treehouse together,” she said. Until that happened, they were stuck with her mother, a cranky, smoking, older version of Lainie.
When Gary said that he would sell the house, Lainie thought she would have some time to sort through the finances and preparations of the divorce proceedings before uprooting her children. But no. With only his name on the house documents, he put it up for sale immediately and an offer was proposed by the end of the week. Now, Lainie had to wait for the sale to close before she could even think of looking for another home, and with the housing market in the slump, the realtor was dragging his feet.
Gary, you fool. How could you do this to your family?
With the stubbornness embedded in her genetics, she straightened her spine and was determined to fulfill one promise to her children. They would have a home again, where treehouses abounded and macaroni cheese filled the pantry.
Christopher came through the doorway and stopped, his hands balled in tiny fists. “I want to go swimming.”
They were so different, Chloe and Chris. Her sweet daughter was content to snuggle on Mama’s lap and fondle her blanket. Her son didn’t need anyone. Willful to the core, he shied away from most physical comforts, resolved on thrusting his dimpled chin in the air with defiance. Lainie smiled at him. He even had his swim trunks on, knowing full well he was going to bargain until the very end.
“Okay,” she said. “Chloe, go get your swimsuit. Chris, don’t get in the pool until I’m out there with you.”
“I’m not a baby,” he said. “I know how to swim.”
“I know you do,” she replied. “But I want to see that famous cannon ball you’ve been practicing.”
He mollified for a second, and then nodded. “I’ll go wait with Gramma.”
Ten minutes later, Lainie was smearing sunscreen on Chloe as Chris edged his way across the diving board, eyeing the water in Genna Moon’s underground pool with wary. She didn’t urge him along, knowing that her son would conquer his fears on his own.
“Are you watching?” he asked with a slight tremble to his words.
“I’m watching,” she said, giving him a smile of encouragement. Chris nodded, scooted forward, backed up, hesitated…and then flew off the diving board into the water. A resounding splash followed his entry into the water. He came up grinning.
“Did you see it?”
“I think that was the biggest splash you’ve done so far,” Lainie called. Chloe raced to the water’s edge.
“I can make a bigger splash,” she bragged.
“Nuh uh,” Chris said back.
“Uh huh,” Chloe returned.
“Cannot!”
“Can, too!”
Lainie stood up. “Chris! Chloe! Please.”
To her relief, they both stopped the bickering, but Chris darted evil looks at his sister. Chloe moved toward the diving board, her red life jacket hiding her pink swimsuit. Watch me, she mouthed to Chris, and vaulted into the air.
“Mine was bigger,” Chris muttered when Chloe surfaced.
“Was not,” Chloe whispered back.
“Was, too.”
Lainie couldn’t help but smile. Having twins fulfilled her desire to have one of each child, but she never thought they would be born at the same time. So different, yet so much alike. Their developmental levels were the same, both at the same emotional and intellectual stages, and yet they still faced challenges in their own way. Lainie didn’t know if that was because of their gender differences, or because of the hodgepodge of genetics, but either way, she was proud of both of them.
After an hour of swimming, Lainie decided that they had enough sun for one day and called her children over to be toweled off. Of course, Chris pouted and stomped his feet, but Chloe said, “First one dressed gets the tv!” And the race began. Just as they managed to gather up all the pool toys and wet towels, a horrible squeal pierced the air. Chloe closed off her ears, screamed, “Mama!” and huddled next to Lainie's leg. Chris looked as though he wanted to the same, but he refused to act like a baby even now.
Lainie ushered her kids to a nearby patio umbrella, told them to stay there, and went to find out what her mother caught on fire this time.
*****
Aaron Dozier stared at the cold sandwich in his hands. When was the last time he had a home-cooked meal? By someone other than the brood of men he worked around? “Who's night to cook?” he asked to no one in particular in the small dining room of the fire station.
“Brody's,” someone answered, and a collective groan filled the room.
“Hey! Screw you, too,” Brody called out. “I'll be happy to let someone else do it.”
That shut everyone up. Aaron looked up from his lunch and sighed. “When's Dusty coming back from leave?”
“Next week. Thank God. Remember that lasagna she makes?”
“Hell,” Weasel, the fire station's oldest rookie in history, moaned, “The fried chicken was her best. Oh, and that chocolate pie.”
All around Aaron, his co-workers began tossing down their sandwiches and scowling at Weasel. “Shut the hell up. You're making me hungry.”
Aaron surveyed his team. Besides William “Weasel” Cambell and Brody Foster, four other station employees sat at the long table. His two paramedics, James Sutter and Henry Grayson, were cousins, and constantly fought like brothers. Sean Phillips, the rig driver, and Ernest Kendrick, his lieutenant, had been by his side since the academy. The fact that Aaron earned Fire Captain at the age of thirty-one never seemed to bother anyone.
Except today.
“Hey, blame it on El Capitan over there,” Jame grunted. “He's the reason Dusty went and got herself knocked up and married. If not for him, we'd be eating hot roast beef sandwiches instead of bologna.”
Aaron sighed, stood up and dumped the remains of his lunch in the trash can. “That was not my fault. She would have met Eric anyway.”
“Yeah, but...”
“No, I don't want to hear any more about it,” Aaron claimed, inserting authority in his voice. The guys mumbled to themselves, but dropped the subject. Dusty's recent marriage and childbirth had been a source of disgruntlement for a while. She was a feisty woman with a big mouth, and everyone loved her. And not just for her cooking. In fact, Aaron suspected that Sean may have been a little more than pissed over the whole event.
Last year, Aaron and Eric Sawyer, a lieutenant at another precinct, were both being considered for captain of this one. When the news was announced, Dusty, bless her heart, took Eric homemade cookies as a way of offering her condolences. She hated to see anyone disappointed and upset, even those people she hadn't even met, and one thing led to another, and she and Eric started dating, which led to pregnancy, and eventually marriage, after Aaron, Sean, and Weasel had a long, “friendly” chat with the new father.
Now, while Dusty finished her maternity leave, his firehouse – and his stomach – missed her something fierce. She'd been a great paramedic, but an even better cook...and she liked it. Women. Aaron could never understand them. Some bitched and complained about the typical role of a housewife and cook, and some embraced the tradition with happiness.
Back in his office, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out the tin of peanut butter brownies he'd hidden there five weeks ago. There were only two left. Taking a bite and closing his eyes to savor the taste while ignoring the hint of staleness in it, he prayed that Dusty didn't need more time off. With only one brownie to last for a whole week, he didn't know if he could endure Brody's culinary skills any longer without more.
The station speaker clicked on. “Simons Security reporting a possible house fire at 2114 Pine Lane…” The rest of the standard message was muffled due to everyone rushing out to the trucks and ambulances. But Aaron had heard it a thousand times. It didn’t matter if someone’s fireplace threw a spark on the carpet, or if the whole blasted furnace did just that…blasted. Lives could be at stake, and procedure was followed to the letter.
Aaron didn’t think much about the address until he pulled his truck up along side the ambulance on a curvy road overlooking the Arkansas River. The Moon residence. And if he wasn’t mistaken…that was Lainie Moon standing there, talking to Sean and looking just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. The years seemed to melt away, and there he was again, gazing across the crowded cafeteria in twelfth grade at the brightest smile he’d ever seen.
But she wasn’t smiling now. She’d not been smiling the last time he saw her either, but she'd still been beautiful. Aaron absentmindedly rubbed the scar where she stabbed him in the leg with a plastic fork after she’d broken his heart and he hid the pain by insulting her, saying her mother was nothing a “pot-smoking, tequila-sucking whore.”
He’d not been given the chance to apologize, and by the look in her eye as she locked gazes with him now, she won’t listen to a thirteen-year, over-due apology today either. Too bad. He’d do almost anything to see that brilliant smile again. But right now, he had a job to do.