“Why did you become a firefighter? Aren’t you scared?”
The question is hard to answer coming from a child. At young ages, children think of us as heroes and want to be like us. If we tell them how scary it is, then that might change. So I keep that part to myself usually, and give them a more direct answer, sidestepping the actual question. “It’s dangerous, but someone has to look after the people in our town and keep them safe. It’s up to me. My father and grandfather did it before me.”
“My grandpa died trying to help. Right, Mama?” She looks up.
“That’s right, sweetie.”
There are many things I’d love to know about her, and we have nothing but time.
“I think your father would be very proud of you for saving us,” Emily says.
His wish was always for me to take after him and keep the family legacy going here in Grapevine. When I was old enough to join, it’s the first thing I did.
Once everyone is done eating, Tessa and I clear off the table and do the dishes again while Emily watches TV. I catch myself peering at Tessa. What was her life like before the fire? Being a single parent has to be rough and exhausting. Where is Emily’s father? What transpired there?
“Carol did a fantastic job decorating this place,” she says, breaking the silence.
I clear my throat. “When she passed, it didn’t feel right to change anything. Decorating was her passion, and I can’t imagine taking down her work.” Silence lingers for a few moments, because I don’t ordinarily talk about this sort of thing with anybody. “It’s been years, yet still seems like yesterday sometimes. I wake up expecting to discover her next to me... but then I remember.”
Her eyes flick over to me, radiating sadness. “I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation, I wouldn’t change a thing about this house. It’s perfect the way she decorated it.”
There is so much I’d like to know about her, and maybe it’s time I start asking questions.
“So where’s Emily’s dad? I realize you mentioned he wasn’t in the picture, but is that new?” I ask.
“It’s a long story. Chris couldn’t handle the responsibility of having a child. He left when she was two. Last year, he started calling around Thanksgiving to visit her, but I refused. She deserves better than a father who wants to come in her life every couple of years.”
What kind of man does something like that? Just up and leaves his kid. Emily is better off without that son of a bitch. If I ever have children, they will wish for nothing and never wonder if their father loves them.
“So you don’t get child support from him?” I ask, realizing how direct that question is and probably shouldn’t have asked. Not every dad pays it, and sometimes it’s the mother’s decision to file. At least she’s not one of those moms that keeps the kid away because of some stupid reason that has nothing to do with Emily. Women like that irritate the piss out of me.
“Nope, I don’t want anything from him. We are better off.”
“I’m so sorry. She’s such a great kid. His loss not to get to know the amazing girl she’s become because of you.”
Just being around Emily in the short time I’ve known her, I can see she is a wonderful, sweet, and intelligent little girl. Tessa has done a great job all by herself at raising her to be independent and thoughtful.
“Yet sometimes, I feel like I’m failing her... not able to provide her with things. Her whole life we’ve struggled. Good jobs are hard to come by.”
My heart can’t stand it. Tessa is doing the best she can under the circumstances. My mom struggled after my dad’s death with us three boys. It was chaos because the home was never the same. She was used to having someone to experience the hard days with and had no one. “You’re raising her to be strong and independent. That counts for a lot more than... trivial things.”
“I know—I just wish I could find a better job. Something so we don’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. Hell, sometimes I can hardly afford ramen. Bills just keep stacking up. It’s a never-ending vicious cycle.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re a great mom.”
I want her to comprehend how marvelous she is. After Chris left, she stayed and provided for her baby. That meant something. As an adult, I don’t reflect back on what we had for dinner, but rather the times I got to spend with my parents and how loved I felt. Emily is healthy, and that’s all that should count.
“You’re doing your best. Ramen is better than nothing to eat at all,” I say.
She is being overly harsh on herself, and that means that we need to switch the topic.
I send her into the living room with Emily while I dish up three bowls of ice cream.
“Hopefully you all like mint chocolate chip,” I say, handing them each a bowl.
Before Emily and Tess began staying here, I didn’t look forward to coming home to an empty house. But now it’s full of laughter, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.