After what seemed endless minutes, finally the flash of police-vehicle lights came into view. They pulled up to the semidark home.
Tony's foot itched to hit the accelerator, but they still had to wait until the police declared the scene safe to enter.
"Code four. Engine 13, proceed."
Sweat had popped out on Tony's forehead and he engaged the engine in a jolt forward.
They were in the house less than a minute later.
A dynamic charge of raised voices from a grandmother and mother, police interrogation, a teenage girl's hysterical crying echoed off the living-room walls while the firemen and arriving paramedics team tried to calm the sixteen-year-old down by taking her to one of the tiny bedrooms.
She was distraught, her long black-and-pink hair hanging in her face. Her pale complexion looked like milk. Her hands were wrapped in towels, blood seeping through. One of the female paramedics was able to . get her vitals, calm her down, while a line was started on her.
The mirror over the girl's bedroom bureau was broken, shattered. Much like the girl herself. Her eyes were haunted, a shade of blue that Tony wouldn't soon for-get. She gazed at him once, briefly, and her look made him feel as if a hand had closed around his throat.
She didn't want help.
She had given up.
If they came out a next time, the scene would be different.
An hour later, Captain Palladino called dispatch to say Engine 13 was back in quarters.
Tony went to his room, taking a minute to compartmentalize the varying emotions that ran through him so he could deal with the reality.
He sat on the bed, picked up his cell and dialed a number without a glance at the clock. On the third ring Natalie picked up.
It was 12:05 a.m.
"Hullo?"
"God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was so late."
"Tony? Is everything all right?"
He laid back on his bed, stared up at the white grid ceiling. "We just got back from a call."
He could hear as she shifted the phone from one ear to the other. She must have been lying in bed asleep. A place where he wanted to be right now. Next to her. "What happened?"
"A sixteen-year-old girl tried to kill herself. She cut her wrists with a piece of mirror."
"Oh, that's terrible, Tony."
"I hate to see something like this. You'd think after so many years, I'd be immune to it, but every now and then sometimes a call happens and it affects me in a way I'm not really ready for."
"I can only imagine."
Tony pressed fingers to the bridge of his nose. "It made me think about your daughter. From what you tell me, she seems like a good kid, even if she isn't coming home for Easter."
Natalie's voice softened with fondness. "She is a good daughter. I get frustrated with her every now and then, but that's bound to happen."
"I know it's none of my business, but I hope you tell her you love her a lot."
"Of course, yes. I do. Tony, is there anything I can help you with?"
"No. I just don't like to see someone so young think they'd be better off dead. Sometimes the call is just for help, but in this case, I saw a look in her eyes. She really tried to do it."
"That's so sad. Can't she get help?"
"They'll take her to Intermountain Psyche and put a watch on her. She needs some therapy, but it's not always mandated. There's red tape. You can only hope for the best."
"And you know that you did your best when you went out there to help her, Tony."
"Yeah." The tightness in his chest began to subside, his lungs didn't feel so closed off. It felt very natural to have called Natalie. He had never called Kim at night. With a particularly bad scene, he always called Rocky if he needed to air his thoughts.
Natalie grew quiet a long moment, then she said, "Do you still have to work a half shift on Easter?"
"Yep."
He could hear her breathing, a soft exhale. "Would you like to come over to my house for dinner when you're done?" Before he could give her an answer, she hastily went on, "Tony, my family will ask questions about us. It could get uncomfortable."
"I can handle it."
"I don't know if I can," she laughed without humor. "Natalie, you can handle anything." She reflected on his words a moment, then tenderly said, "Thanks, Tony. That means a lot to me."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leaving Normal
The aromas wafting through Natalie's house were savory, making her hungry. The rich scents of ham, brown sugar-baked beans and onion-cheese scalloped potatoes drifted through the house. In the fridge was a bowl of cabbage-pea salad, homemade applesauce and fresh fruit. She had a cookie sheet of butter rolls that she would put into the oven in a few minutes.
Each room in the house had a freshly cut floral arrangement—even the downstairs bathroom. The sweet smells of flowers mingled with the Easter meal cooking in the kitchen creating a warm, homey atmosphere.
Natalie had taken great pains to make this day as perfect as possible.
Sarah and her family had been the first to arrive; Steve had parked himself on the sofa watching sports, while Sarah and Natalie stood in the kitchen with wineglasses in hand. BreeAnn and Sydney were upstairs in Natalie's room with MTV on the television.
"I can't wait to meet Dad's girlfriend," Sarah said enthusiastically after popping a green olive into her mouth. She selected another and ate it. "I wonder what she'll be like? I picture him with a very elegant lady, someone who wears her hair short and styled in a beehive bubble."
"Nobody calls hair a beehive bubble anymore," Natalie responded, a twinge of butterflies hitting her as she thought about the soon-to-arrive guests. But she vowed to herself not to
