"What? Why?” Seth never worried about what people thought, but he respected Mitch. He would care what he thought.
"Nothing, never mind.” He pushed away from the car.
"Seth, it's something."
"It's just, it doesn't matter if he likes me or not, okay?"
"You work together."
"I'll deal.” He kissed her chastely. She felt the distance, told herself he was just concerned for Andy. “Go home, get some sleep before you have to face your mom tomorrow."
"Merry Christmas, Seth."
"Merry Christmas, Lauren.” But he didn't look at her before he walked away.
Seth arrived at the station early Christmas morning. He hadn't been able to sleep, replaying the scene in the fire, playing out several different scenarios, knowing he'd made the one wrong choice.
Apparently that was becoming a pattern in his life. And now the whole family knew about his and Lauren's relationship. If Mitch wanted to deal with him over that, he hoped he'd get it out of the way before the next call.
Mary Ann was cleaning up the kitchen alone, even though that wasn't the duty arrangement. Once again she'd gotten dumped on, so Seth pitched in so she could go off shift on time.
"Good Christmas?” she asked.
"There's such a thing as too much family.” He took the greasy roaster from her.
She plunged her hands back in the dirty water. No gloves, he noticed. “Says the man who followed his father's footsteps into the firehouse."
"Yeah, well, he's just a fraction of the family."
She looked over. “Why so glum? Santa didn't bring you what you wanted?"
"Just the opposite. Let me ask you.” He faced her, the dishtowel wrapped around his fist, one hip against the sink. “Do you think I'm a good guy?"
She regarded him quietly for a moment. “You're a nice kid."
"Come on, you can't be older than me."
She turned back to the sink. “Oh, but I am in so many ways."
Despite his mood, he smiled. “Okay, wise one, I've got to do a bad thing."
"Just because you have to do a bad thing doesn't make you a bad person."
"No, I know, but this thing,” He couldn't even say it. “It's going to hurt someone. And it's going to hurt me to hurt her."
Mary Ann dropped her dishrag. “Oh, no. You aren't breaking up with the captain's daughter."
Well. That didn't make him feel better. How could he make Mary Ann understand without telling her the truth? How could he make Lauren understand? “I have to. I'm a jerk and she deserves better."
"Of course she does.” She picked up the dishrag again, sloshing soapy water. “But for some idiotic reason she chose you. So you have to become a better person for her."
"I don't think I can.” Just being able to change would make him a better person. But he didn't have it in him, not even for Lauren.
Mary Ann put her wet hands on his shoulders and got in his face, eyes dark with temper. “Until you can, you'll still be a kid."
"Escamilla!"
Seth swore and Mary Ann turned back to work at the sound of Mitch's voice. He never called Seth by his last name for obvious reasons; he must be more upset by developments than Seth suspected.
"Yes, sir!"
"My office, now!"
"Merry Christmas,” Mary Ann murmured to his back.
"Yeah, you too,” he said over his shoulder and headed for Mitch's office.
All night long he'd wondered how he would deal with Mitch. The two of them had always gotten along, but they'd kept their professional and personal lives separate. Of course, Seth had never been this close to Mitch's personal life before. He tried to imagine what Mitch would say to the man he knew was sleeping with his daughter. This would not be pleasant.
"Sit down, Seth."
Mitch kept his seat as Seth closed the office door. His affable invitation was at odds with the earlier command and Seth sat warily, praying for an alarm.
"I imagine you know what I want to say,” Mitch said, his expression unreadable. In all the years he had known him, Seth had never had to figure out Mitch's feelings; the man always let them be known. Today would be the day he'd wear a poker face.
"I have a pretty good idea of what you want to discuss, yes sir."
Mitch folded his hands on top of the blotter. “I've watched you grow up to be quite a young man. I was nearly as proud as your parents when you became a fireman, and you've proved yourself a good one."
Uh oh. This wasn't a keep-away-from-my-daughter speech. It was a welcome-to-the-family speech. He was screwed.
"Thank you, sir."
"At the same time, though, I've seen how you treat women."
"Treat women, sir?” he asked in a desperate delaying tactic. He'd never realized Mitch paid attention to his love life.
"You're a good looking boy, Seth, and you know it. You take advantage of that with the ladies. That's not saying I wouldn't do the same if I had your advantages, but, well, look at my position."
"As Lauren's dad."
"Right. I've seen you go through dozens of women a month. I've seen you roll in here after a night of partying with the scent of a woman's perfume on your clothes. It makes me a little sick to think that over the past few weeks, it's been Lauren's perfume I've been smelling."
Seth wanted to look away, but to do so would admit shame. He wasn't ashamed of sleeping with Lauren. Still, his face reddened.
"Lauren is all I have now,” Mitch went on. “She's always been the most important thing to me, and that may have been part of the problem with Valerie and me. Lauren deserves more than what her mom and I are going through. What I need to know is that this other life is behind you; that since you and Lauren got together you're ready to be serious about a relationship with her. I need your promise that you won't hurt her."
Mitch waited expectantly and Seth opened his mouth to make the promise. To lie. But he respected Mitch and Lauren too much to lie.
"No, sir."
"What do you mean, no sir?” The friendly tone of Mitch's voice iced over.
"I haven't made that promise to Lauren. She hasn't asked me to. And frankly, sir, I think it's more important that I make the promise to her than to you."
Mitch stared a long time and Seth wanted to squirm, but held perfectly still, not allowing a trace of tension to show itself in the line of his body.
"All right,” Mitch said finally. “Fair enough. But if you hurt her, I swear to you, I'll make your life a living hell. Never mind that I held you as a baby. You'll wish you'd never been born. Dismissed."
Seth acknowledged the threat with a nod, then turned and retreated gratefully.
Ordinarily Lauren hated to patronize businesses that were open on Christmas but today a public venue seemed the best solution. Neutral territory and lots of impartial witnesses would make a peaceful holiday with Valerie. They decided to meet at a restaurant, each in their own car, thus avoiding time alone together.
Lauren glanced at her watch and wondered how early restaurants served wine on Christmas.
Valerie looked wonderful; trim and neat, her hair in a cute flyaway style that took years off her face. She even giggled when the host mistook them for sisters as he guided them to their table. Giggled, Valerie! Lauren shook her head in disbelief and spread the linen napkin over her lap.
They made small talk about work as they perused the menu. One thing both women had in common was a love of their jobs, though Valerie had wanted Lauren to follow her into the classroom. Lauren just couldn't bear the idea of being stuck inside one building day in and day out, with the same people. Her job brought her new clients, new places to see, new things to try. Her mother just couldn't grasp the appeal. When the waiter came for their drink order, Lauren ordered wine and Valerie frowned her disapproval.
The more things changed ... Lauren thought with a sigh.
For the life of her, she couldn't think of a real topic of conversation, so they talked about the menu. Of course different entrees appealed to each. They discussed movies they wanted to see—none that were the same—and the beauty of the restaurant, something on which they agreed. Superfluous, as always.
"Did you go to the Escamillas last night?” Valerie asked after they placed their order.
"The night before. Seth and Dad worked last night and today.” Lauren drained her glass of wine.
"Anything exciting happen?"
Seth almost died in a fire and I realized how much I love him and don't want to be without him. Nothing major
. But Lauren refused to open herself up to ridicule over him. “All very much the same as last year. And the year before. And the year before."
"Your dad went?"
"Of course. Oscar's his best friend. Besides, he doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go."
"You don't need to get defensive. I just wanted to know he's okay even though it's Christmas."
"He's fine,” Lauren said loyally, though she didn't know the truth of that statement.
Valerie looked down at the silverware. “You know, when you become a fireman's wife, they tell you the worst thing is the worry that your husband won't come home. But the worst thing is he never
is
home. You spend so many nights alone. It's too hard."
How did she know? Had she heard about Lauren and Seth? Valerie spoke with such vehemence that Lauren wondered if she was trying to send a message. But no, her mother was anything but subtle, and how would she know about her and Seth, anyway?
Still, Valerie was wrong. As hard as a firefighter's schedule was, the worst thing was not knowing whether he was safe.
She wished Seth would decide he preferred being a paramedic. The hours were worse and the job more stressful, but at least he wouldn't be putting his life on the line by running into burning buildings. She knew him well enough, though, to know he'd remain a firefighter as long as he felt he had something to prove.
"So, are you seeing anyone?” Valerie asked.
So she didn't know about Seth, after all. Good. Lauren was in no state to defend her relationship with him, not after last night.
Lauren had debated over telling her mother about Seth. After all, now that everyone else knew, why shouldn't Valerie? Except that for some unknown reason, Valerie disliked Seth and Lauren didn't care to know why. Her mother had a way of planting seeds of doubt and Lauren didn't want to doubt her love for Seth.
"Recent events have kind of put a damper on my belief of the existence of true love."
Valerie's hackles went up and her eyes sparked. “Don't you go blaming your lack of a love life on me!"
"I wasn't!” Lauren defended quickly, but the truth was, she had been. Valerie always made a convenient scapegoat. “I just—how can I believe in happily ever after when you and Dad couldn't make it after thirty years?"
"Because every person is different.” Her voice was thick with passion as she leaned across the table. “Love can last forever. My love for your father just wasn't one of those cases."
A romantic thing for her pragmatic mother to say, and the expression on Valerie's face could only be described as wistful. Was her mother in love? Had she already found someone to replace Mitch? Lauren's stomach tightened in dismay and she finished her lunch as she'd started it, in misery.
Lauren screened her calls that evening as she waited for Seth's call. Surely he'd ask if she survived the day with her mother. She ignored calls from the rest of the Escamillas inviting her to dinner the following night. She'd had more than enough family in December to last into the middle of next year, but didn't have the heart to turn Sandra down. Seth could do that.
If she knew where he was.
Great. As soon as their families learned about their relationship, she turned into a needy girlfriend. He would hate that. She turned off the news and went to bed, though she slept restlessly, listening for the phone.
She thought he might come by in the morning on his way home from the station, but the minute hand spun on the face of the clock and it was noon before she admitted he wasn't coming. Almost as if he didn't owe her a phone call. As if they were still nothing more than friends.
She occupied herself by taking down her little Christmas tree and the other skimpy decorations that looked so forlorn after the holidays. She tried to settle down with the paper, but she couldn't.
She'd find a home for her new lamp, her “big and shiny” Christmas present from Seth. She'd teased him about buying her a lamp, and he had. She'd never seen a prettier one, with stained glass flowers. She was torn between putting it in the bedroom, where she could look at it every morning when she woke up; or putting it in the living room where anyone who came over could see it.
She set the box on the floor, gently removed the Styrofoam that held the lamp in place. A small piece of paper fluttered to the floor and she picked it up.
"Seth. Call me!” in swirling purple pen. And it listed a number.
Her world grayed around the edges. Not her handwriting, or her number. Either he'd gotten some girl's phone number while getting her Christmas gift, or the lamp was a recycled gift. Neither option boded well for his health. Or her sanity.
Against every self-preserving instinct, she drove to his apartment. A horrible fear lodged in the pit of her stomach that she'd find him with another woman. She could bear anything but that. She parked beside his truck, by the stairs leading to his apartment, and she approached his door cautiously, praying he'd be alone.
Some great relationship she had, huh, worrying that her lover was cheating?
Again.
She knocked and waited. When he answered, he was rumpled, like he'd just gotten out of bed. Her heart dropped.
"Lauren. What are you doing here?” he asked, dragging a hand over his face.
He didn't kiss her. He hadn't since that night at the hospital. Why did that seem longer than two days ago?
She wouldn't be pathetic about it. She was a grown-up. If he'd lost interest already ... She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I was worried. I hadn't heard from you."