To my surprise, I had all of the ingredients in the cupboard: flour, vanilla, and even walnuts and chips. I got the baking sheet in the oven and had a few minutes to spare, so I thought I would get into the shower.
I see now that that was a mistake.
Twelve minutes goes by really fast! I thought I was taking a really quick shower, just scrubbing up the highlights, not even shaving my legs or anything. I didn’t even wash my hair, because I wanted to be able to deliver the cookies to Roger by lunch. I figured we would have time to chat, and I wouldn’t have this whole sorry situation hanging over my head all day.
Definitely, we can talk this out. I’m sure he will understand if I just explain it to him. I just need time to get a new job and catch up.
When I step out of the shower, I hear the screeching of the fire alarm from behind the door. Grabbing a robe that sticks immediately to my wet skin, I run out of the bathroom, then freeze in my tracks, terrified.
Somebody is banging on the door. Somebody is yelling “Fire Department!”
Confused, I dash to the door, shocked to find Roger and three firemen. Everybody runs in, takes over, and I just try to resist the urge to pass out.
When Roger loses his temper, it isn’t pretty. Everybody is yelling and running. Reflexively, I pull the robe tighter around me and cringe as Roger and one of the big firemen square off against each other. Smoke fills the air and the fire alarm keeps howling.
Then I can’t see anything, because this giant man steps in front of me, his arms raised slightly to sort of fence me in. It only takes a moment to realize that he is protecting me… Protecting me from the fire?
No.
Protecting me from Roger.
My heart is beating so fast, I barely know what to do. The cookie sheet bangs against the cooktop. Black billows of smoke hang against the ceiling, but the big conflict is between Roger and the firemen. Nobody is yelling at me. Everybody is looking at him like he did something wrong.
Roger calls me stupid or something. He’s yelling at me.
The big fireman in front of me edges closer, protectively.
Finally Roger hustles out of the room, but not before giving me a venomous dirty look. He slams the door and the fireman turns around, clasping his giant hands around my trembling shoulders.
“You’re all right now,” he murmurs reassuringly.
He is huge. I feel like a doll in his hands, like one of those little porcelain dolls from the gift shop. His words are so reassuring, I feel myself kind of melting into them. His eyes are intense and green, and though he is just enormous, there is a deep gentleness about him. A gentle giant.
The air changes as one of the other guys opens a window to let the smoke out. The third man drops the cookie sheet into the sink and puts his hands on his hips, looking around.
“Everything all right?” the giant calls out.
The man in the kitchen turns around to look at us. His jaw is square and tense. Muscles like knotted ropes cover his arms, even though he is older, maybe even forty. Silver hair at his temples is sexy and distinguished. He looks like a really intense dad figure, and like he is not very happy about the state of my kitchen.
The third guy comes back from the window and nods to the other guys like he handled it.
“You shouldn’t leave your oven unattended,” the older one says.
I think he is the boss. These other two guys are a bit younger, and they seem to be looking to him for orders.
“Um… Yes, of course,” I hear myself say.
My voice is unnaturally squeaky. My heart is still hammering away inside my chest, making me feel like I could just pass out if I am not careful.
“You don’t have to yell at her,” the giant says, moving again to shield me protectively.
“I’m not yelling at her,” the older one shoots back.
The third one reaches overhead and snaps the cover off the smoke alarm, disengaging the battery to get it to shut up, finally.
“Good thing this works,” he observes.
“How did you guys know? How did you get here? I mean…”
All three of them turn to look at me at once. The combination of their intense gazes, the smoke, and the panic, all takes my breath away. I feel dizzy and lightheaded.
It’s like a dream, watching them all staring at me like this, and I realize I’m practically naked, too. Just this robe, still clinging to me all wet and sort of pointless.
“Just doing our job,” the third one says.
He’s younger, but more intense. I wonder what these three are doing together. Partners? A team?