And at the end of the day, that’s what Jason would want.
My phone is flashing on the counter when I step out of the shower a few hours after arriving home. I wrap myself in a towel, hair still soaking wet sending water dripping down my back.
Isaac: I’d like to apologize on behalf of all men.
Me: I appreciate that. You men definitely aren’t sending us your best, but what inspired this apology?
Isaac: I work with pigs, Sawyer, absolute pigs.
Me: I don’t know. Judging by the calendar Liv showed me, you work with some foxes to me.
Isaac: I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.
Me: Jealous?
Isaac: Of these guys? Hell no.
Me: LOL! Slow night?
Isaac: I’ll never admit to that. Not out loud. It’s a one-way ticket to a long-ass night.
Me: Do you have plans tomorrow after you sleep?
I’m going out on a limb here. I’m showing my hand and opening myself up to the possibility of being hurt, but the truth is, I miss him and I’d like to see him.
Isaac: That depends.
Me: On?
Isaac: If this pretty great girl wants to hang out. If she does, I’ll be with her.
My instant thought is one any typical, self-conscious girl has. Oh, he’s absolutely not talking about me. But I stifle that voice straight down where it belongs and stay as confident as possible.
Me: I think that girl absolutely wants to hang out with you. Maybe at her place?
Isaac: I was hoping that would be the case.
Me: 7? We can have dinner?
I place the phone on my bed so I can dry off and get dressed. I return fifteen minutes later in shorts and my favorite baggy tee, completely moisturized and feeling good, but my text still remains unread. He’s likely out on a call.
He was right. We shouldn’t have even spoken of the slow evening.
I try not to worry about him as I slip into bed a few hours later when I haven’t heard from him.
It’s not until my phone lights up just as I’m dozing off that I feel even a moment of relief.
Isaac: I told you not to mention the calm. There’s always a storm shortly after.
Another text appears before I even have a chance to respond to this one.
Isaac: 7 is perfect. I’ll see you then. Sleep tight, baby.
Me: Stay safe.
Isaac: Always.
Isaac
I sit with sweat and dirt on my face while the entire station showers after returning back from what turned out to be one of the worst boating accidents I’ve seen in my time here.
I would never say it is easy to shake off the things I see on a daily basis, but a child died tonight right in front of me.
That’s something you can’t just wash away.
I try to keep my work outside of my life once I step out of those doors. That’s why I texted Sawyer back and didn’t say anything about what happened. I just wanted to confirm our time together, because the first thing I wanted to do once I left the scene was go see her.
But I couldn’t.
“You all right out here?” Grady asks, when he comes down from the bunk area with a towel around his neck.
“Not really,” I answer him as honestly as I can.
“Never gets easier does it?” He sinks to sit on the bench beside me.
I’m still sitting by the truck, still in my gear from the waist down. The bay water is still soaked into my boots, and I can still smell it everywhere.
It’s amazing how much damage can be done by a boat when alcohol is involved, but when a speedboat collides with a family’s pontoon boat tied to a dock, where children are swimming and playing, the worst comes to pass.
“We all did everything we could, Black. Between us, EMS, and PD, we did absolutely the best we could do.”
“No, we didn’t. A little girl died in the dirt on the banks of the bay. That’s not our fucking best.” I slide my hands through my sweat and water-soaked hair. “These are the days I hate this damn job.”
“None of us want to lose anyone, ever, but there were people saved tonight. Without action across the board, we could have lost more or even everyone. In, out, onto the next. You have to do that otherwise you’ll never be able to lead a normal life. You know it was hard as shit for me after everything that happened with Drew, but eventually, I had to… step up and do my job because it’s an important one.”
“You think I don’t know that? It doesn’t mean watching someone die is easier.” I stand, wanting to just be alone for a bit.
“You’ve always struggled with this part of it, especially since LA.”
“I don’t like talking about LA, so don’t start that shit, Malone.”
“Don’t start what shit? Being a veteran on this crew and trying to fucking talk to you after a hard call?” Grady rises and starts pacing back and forth; clearly showing this call took a toll on him too, even if he’s trying to talk me through it.
“I don’t need nor want to be talked to right now. What I want is to go up there, shower, help clean up the truck; then lie down until we have to leave again. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” he says matter-of-factly. “I just want to know you’re going to be all right if another call comes through in five minutes.”
“You know I will be. It’s just… fuck. It was a kid, man, a kid. She couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. She was on a boat with her family, enjoying herself, thinking today was going to be a normal day and it ended up being her last. Because of a shitty
