"That was tough," Ace says in reference to the church service.
I nod. "It was. Those kids will grow up without a father."
"It's a risk we firefighters knowingly take. It's not just a job. We want to help the community," Ace says.
As he speaks, the panic in my chest melts away. It's something that he gave a lot of thought to before deciding to take on the job. If I tell him how frightened I was on the day he went to the Shoe Box apartments, it would be my selfishness speaking. And that is not fair.
The graveside ceremony is just as sad as the church and at some point, I lower my gaze unable to witness the grief at the graveside. Hudson Turner is buried with all honor befitting a hero.
After the funeral, we all head to The First Bar, where firefighters from Ace’s station are gathering for a beer in honor of Firefighter Hudson.
As soon as we enter, it feels like we’ve come home. Ace is pulled into hugs and the guys greet me just as warmly as though I’m part of them. Everyone is standing in small groups and someone hands me a glass of wine and I smile my thanks.
The atmosphere in the bar is solemn, tinged with sadness.
“Hi, Lexi.”
It’s Deanna, the wife of the Deputy Chief. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and I imagine mine resemble hers. We all know that it could have been us burying our men today.
“Hi,” I tell her.
“Do you want to come and sit with us?” she asks and I follow her to a corner table, where the wives and girlfriends are seated.
I’m good with names from working in a place where I see different people every day and it’s important to remember the regulars’ names. I say hello to the ladies by name.
There’s Brooke, Jason’s wife, her friend Marian, a feisty funny lady, there’s Janet, who is Lucas’s wife, and of course Mila and three other women to whom I’m introduced. The conversation centers around the day and how tough it must be for Hudson Turner’s wife.
“The thing we all dread and fear,” Mila says.
“We should organize a visit,” Pricilla Green, the Chief’s wife says. She’s a little older than the rest of us but speaks to all of us like we’re her equals.
We all agree and spend the next couple of minutes coming up with a day when most of us are available. We agree on Saturday afternoon and we can all bring a dish and we can share a meal.
I like the solidarity between the ladies and I’m glad that I’m becoming part of them. We agree on the food everyone should bring. We don’t want to end up with ten lasagnas.
A waiter comes and takes our orders for more drinks. The conversation flows easily. It’s comforting to be with people who understand what being with a firefighter entails. We talk about the day of the fire and how frightened we were. Deanna takes my cell phone number as do the others. It’ll be nice to have a support system. At one point I look up and catch Ace’s intense gaze on me. My heart skips a beat. A look of understanding passes between us.
It doesn’t matter that we’re on two ends of the room. The distance disappears. We’re connected by something that I cannot explain. And I finally understand what it means to find your soulmate.
We leave the bar at half-past five. We’d agreed with Helen that she would leave at six. Many hugs later, we head for the car.
“You have a great group of friends,” I tell Ace.
“You’re part of it too,” he says.
“Yes,” I say, a smile on my face. “It’s a good feeling to belong. I’ve never been part of any group. It was always just Vanessa and me.” It hits me how much my world has expanded since reconnecting with Ace.
“Weren’t you in any club at school?” Ace asks.
“No. There was no time for stuff like that. I had to hurry back home after school, to prepare dinner and check if Mom was still alive.” I’m coming to terms with my childhood and the bitterness is ebbing away. I can’t change what happened but more than that, I did the best I could and I’d say Vanessa and I did pretty well.
“You became a mother when you were a child yourself?” Ace says.
“Yes, but it made me who I am,” I say. “I’m able to take care of Luna because I have the experience of taking care of Vanessa.”
“That was fucked up,” Ace says with feeling.
“Yeah, it was but we made it.” I change the topic. I don’t want to talk about my mom anymore. Not on a day like today when we’ve just laid to rest a man who sacrificed his life for his community. People like mother take from the community, robbing it of talent and adding unnecessary burdens to it. No, she doesn’t deserve any more of our time.