Falling for the Fireman. Allie Pleiter
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about the idea of hiring Nick Nelworth.
“Thanks. We’re off!” With a wave, Nick trotted out of the office door with a slightly confused Plug lumbering behind him. From the window he could see Nick stood up straighter, walked without most of that lanky teen shuffle and generally looked delighted. Plug even went so far as to wag his tail—something Chad hadn’t seen in months.
He thought they’d take off up the street, but evidently their first stop was across the street to Sweet Treats. If Chad’s guess was right, Sweet Treats would start carrying dog biscuits when it opened, and Plug would be a regular customer.
The next day, Jeannie sat in the front window of Sweet Treats. She wasn’t calling it “the building that would become Sweet Treats” anymore, for the space had already become the store in her mind. She was assessing how a stack of yellow paint chip choices looked in the afternoon sun. Buttercup definitely outshone Sun-kissed, but Lemon had a vitality to it she couldn’t resist. She’d nearly settled on “Lemon”—it was a candy flavor, after all—when a lumbering movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. Plug was sauntering across Tyler Street by himself.
It only took a second or two to figure out Plug’s motives; his red leash—the dog’s only nod to the classic firehouse Dalmatian—was clamped firmly in his slobbery jaws and he was heading straight for Sweet Treats. A determined, albeit slow-motion quest for Nicky. Jeannie couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Sure, Nicky had told her he and Plug really enjoyed their walk yesterday, but Plug obviously hadn’t checked the clock to know Nicky wasn’t due out of school for another hour.
Her laughter turned to a gasp when a car whizzed by too close behind Plug. He swiveled his head after the speeding car, but didn’t seem to register the possible danger of being out in traffic. Had the hound ever been in the street other than watching the engines come and go from the firehouse? She could count on one hand the number of times she’d even seen him moving. Mostly Plug sat still, as he was doing now. Only now he just stood in the middle of the street, staring into her doorway as if willing Nicky to appear there.
When a second car went by, barely slowing down as it slipped between her shop and Plug, Jeannie sucked in a breath and moved. Opening her door, she called, “Go on home, Plug,” and pointed back to the firehouse. The trio of big red engine bay doors were shut. How had he gotten out? “Get back out of the street before you get hit.”
Plug cocked his head to one side in an all-too-human gesture of bafflement. “Plug, go home!” Jeannie found herself enunciating as if to a small child or someone who didn’t understand English. This was why she’d never owned a dog—you could never reason with a pet. Unreasonable sons were just about all she could handle right now. “Home, boy!”
While he didn’t sit down, he didn’t turn to go home, either. Plug just stood there, as if waiting for her to catch on that he had no plans to cut his excursion short, escorted or not.
Jeannie looked up and down the street, hoping to catch one of the volunteer firemen out looking for him. Gordon Falls boasted a full complement of volunteer firefighters, but George and Chad were often the only two in the building. Those on call only came rushing when those horrid sirens went off because that’s how a volunteer fire department worked.
Still, shouldn’t someone have noticed Plug leaving? Seeing another car heading down the street, Jeannie realized she was the only one to come to the poor hound’s rescue. Even though she wasn’t quite sure what to do, Jeannie settled on squatting down and tapping her knee the way she’d seen Nicky call him. “Well, fine then. You come here. Come, Plug. Come on, boy. Come on over here and get your fool self out of the street.” Plug took two steps toward her. “Come on, boy!” She’d let the dog stay here for the hour until Nicky could deliver him back over if the firefighters didn’t come looking for him first. She surely had no plans to walk out there and haul him back to the firehouse herself.
No, sir, she would not haul Plug back herself. She couldn’t stomach the thought of walking to the firehouse for any reason, much less a dog. Today was not the day to tackle her fear.
Other people found the red doors charming; iconic, even. Every time Jeannie looked at those huge red doors, they just seemed like hungry red mouths opening wide to eat her alive. Nope, she wouldn’t face those today.
“That’s right, come on over here and you can wait for Nicky.” At Nicky’s name, Plug picked up the pace to something that could almost be called a trot, finishing his trek across Tyler Street. He looked up at her with that comical face of his, those too-big eyes and those floppy ears, and announced his arrival by dropping the leash on the sidewalk in front of her. Then, after a pathetic growly sound which she suspected loosely translated to “Phew!” he placed his big nose on her knee and depositing a dark spot of drool on her pant leg. “You silly old thing,” she said, unable to stay annoyed once she started petting his massive, velvety ears. “Don’t you know enough to stay out of traffic?”
She didn’t like the look Plug gave her in response. His droopy eyes seemed to say “Silly yourself if you can’t walk across the street to take me home.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she countered. “You’re not tricking me into…” Into what? Doing the thing she’d managed to avoid for weeks now? She could sit through a presentation on fire safety but couldn’t set foot in a firehouse? Who really was the silly old thing here?
No, Lord, I’m not ready. Jeannie knew she was being ridiculous, even irrational, but the thought of going near the firehouse stirred up panic in her throat. She didn’t want to be this way. She’d tried being logical, thinking of “fire safety” as a worthy community goal, but that only made things worse.
Fire was the enemy. There had been a fire during her husband Henry’s death in a car accident, as well. Looking at the aftermath of her house fire became just like being at the crash site the morning after Henry died.
I’ve been strong lots of other places. I even bought this place looking right at the fire station—wasn’t that strong? After all, weren’t these men the reason she had the ability to start over?
“You know it’s no accident you chose this building,” Abby had declared the day Jeannie signed the mortgage papers. “Some part of you needs the firehouse nearby.”
“So why am I scared to have it so close? It makes no sense.”
“You didn’t make much sense before the fire,” Abby had replied, hugging her. “I’m expecting less now.”
For five whole minutes she tried to ignore Plug’s stare, to let him wait until Nicky got home. I don’t have to go in there, not yet. Not for a dog, of all things.
She parked herself back on the windowsill and attempted a return to the paint chips. Nothing worked; her concentration had fled the building. She was going to have to go in there sometime. If not today, it’d have to be some day. Wouldn’t it be better to get it over with when Nicky wasn’t watching? That way, she’d have an hour or so to pull herself together if things were…harder than she planned. Then when Nicky showed up she could tell him how much Plug had missed him and how brave she’d been to take him back over. This was the perfect opportunity.
If she could just make herself take it.
She reached for the phone to call Abby for moral support, but put it back down. You can do this. You are stronger than this. Jeannie grabbed the leash, telling the pulse hammering in her throat to stop pounding so hard. This was a silly fear, the kind of thing she’d chide Nicky for having. No one should ever be afraid of a firehouse. Or fire engines. They meant help was on the way, didn’t they?
“Fears don’t make sense,” the school counselor had told Nicky. “That’s why you must simply face them. You can’t argue them down because they won’t listen to reason.”
“All right, then, Plug my boy, it’s time to get over this.” Strong words, but her voice wobbled as she stood up and fastened the leash to his collar with shaking hands.
“Just walk you back