He stands and walks over to where Marco, Luca, and I are waiting in front of the group of sitting kids.
“Hey,” I say when he reaches us. “This okay?
“Um . . . yeah.” I can tell he’s trying to temper his excitement, but there’s no missing the way he’s holding his shoulders back and his little chest is puffed out.
“Okay,” I reply with a nod before turning my attention back to the group. “So, when there’s an emergency, and a fire engine is needed, the dispatcher—that’s the person who takes the call when you call nine-one-one—will give the call a priority depending on whether it’s urgent or not. Then the bells at the firehouse will ring out. That’s when we have to jump into action, and we have about a minute to get our gear on and hop into the fire engine and hit the road. So, I decided we should make a bit of a competition out of this.” I turn to Marco and Luca and wave my arm at them. “Marco and Luca here are brothers, and they’re always wanting to beat each other—at everything.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the stopwatch I stashed there for this very moment and hold it up for everyone to see. “Harvey is going to be in charge of the timer, and when he says ‘go,’ the guys are going to race each other to see who can get geared up the fastest. So, with a show of hands, who here thinks Marco—the oldest brother—is going to win?” About two thirds of the kids put up their hands. “And what about Luca? Who thinks he can beat his big brother?” The rest of the children signal their support.
I turn toward Harvey and hold out the stopwatch. “Okay. So, in a moment, I want you to yell ‘go’ and then stop the clock whenever the first person has finished putting their helmet on. Sound good?” I say, earning a beaming grin and an unmistakable nod.
“Right.” I check that Marco and Luca are set with their gear in front of them.
The rest of the guys standing in a line at the side watching with amusement as the brothers nudge each other with elbows and gesture to the kids to make some noise.
“Okay, everyone, be quiet so the guys don’t miss Harvey’s signal.” I nod down at Dee’s son, and grin at him. “Ready bud?”
“Yep.”
“It’s all up to you now. You start them off whenever you’re ready.”
“On your marks, get ready, and go!” he yells, and the guys jump into action while I give a running commentary as the Rossi boys do what they do best—work as fast as possible while joking and jonesing around with each other.
They’re putting on their turnout gear and suspenders, then head cover and jackets. When they’re neck and neck, Luca quickly slips his helmet onto his head and raises his hands over his head in victory with a big “Done!”
Harvey’s eyes widen as he quickly stops the timer and lifts it up my way.
I make a show of widening my eyes like it’s the fastest time I’ve seen. “Wow! That was done in fifty-five seconds flat! Let’s give Marco, Luca, and my helper Harvey here a big round of applause,” I announce, joining Harvey’s classmates as they clap and cheer. I give Harvey’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks, Harvs. You can help me anytime.”
“That was awesome!” he whispers. “Best day ever!” Then he gives me a hug around my waist and runs back to his friends.
“Now that makes it all worthwhile, man,” Marco says, bumping my shoulder.
What can I say? The man isn’t wrong.
Dee: You certainly made my boy’s day today. He called me as soon as he got home and raved about you. I think you’re his hero.
Rhodes: He’s an awesome kid.
Dee: And you’re a good man who made my son feel like the king of the world and most popular kid in the class today.
Dee: Which means now I’m feeling kinda grateful.
Rhodes: Is that so . . .?
Dee: Such a shame you’re working until tomorrow and I have a private breakfast event I’m catering for in the morning.
Damn.
Rhodes: You do know that this is torture, right?
Dee: Have you eaten yet?”
Rhodes: Not yet. Scotty and the new candidate, Kyle, are on cooking duty, and Scotty tries to put that shit off for as long as possible, usually until someone gets sick of waiting and just cooks instead.
Dee: Can you hold them off for an hour . . .?
Rhodes: Yeah. Why . . .?
Dee: Tell them dinner is being delivered in an hour and the wait will be worth it.
Rhodes: Sweet cheeks, what are you up to?
Dee: That’s for me to know and you to find out.
Dee: But I promise you . . . it’s not only going to be worth it for the guys . . . See you soon.
I turn around from where Luc, Marco, and I are chilling on the couch and let out a high-pitched whistle. “Dinner’s being delivered in an hour, so, Scotty and Kyle, you better go make sure the rig is squeaky fucking clean and ready to roll out for our next call.”
“What’s on the menu?” Scotty asks, looking like a kid on Christmas morning who got everything he asked for.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Whatever it is, it’ll be fucking delicious. So you better get to work, otherwise I’m sure the guys and I can sit back and make sure no food is wasted.”
“I thought you were my friend,” Scotty says with a pout.
I snicker and shake my head at him. “I am. But if my woman is feeding you lot, you can bet your ass I’m making you work for it.”
“Dee’s bringing us food?” Luc asks, suddenly all on board with this conversation. When I nod, he gets to his feet. “Then I’m gonna help
