Page 42 of Love Always

All those crackpot stunts are what led Devon to become a smokejumper in Colorado, and she’s only been back a little over a year. And now Chloe’s back too. Chloe and I are a lot more similar. Even growing up, it was that way. I was sort of Chloe’s person and Devon was sort of Claire’s person. Travis is all of ours.

Devon gets up and gets herself a glass of wine. “Do you want some?”

I shake my head. “I think I need something to eat. Mateus made some food. It’s in the fridge.”

Devon finds the glass dish of leftover frittatas and pops it in the microwave. She sets out two white plates and I stand, closing the hall door so when it beeps it doesn’t wake Cory or Mateus. As I turn back to the kitchen area, I notice Mateus’s bag at the end of the sofa where he was sleeping earlier, his prosthetic leg on top. I don’t think Devon has seen it yet.

It’s when she hands me the plate of food, I realize how starving I am. I can’t wait for it to cool down before plunging a fork into the frittata.

Devon, never one to worry about the appropriate time for conversation, starts in with, “I know it’s hard to see a body.”

It’s just easier to deflect. “How many bodies have you seen?”

She takes a bite and thinks for a moment, her fork waving. “Fourteen. I have a running tally in my mind. That doesn’t count people who pass away after an event. The worst, though, are kids.”

I never thought about her job out west or here. We get barn fires in summer and propane heater overloads in winter.

“Once, there was an infant, a little boy, who died of smoke inhalation. That was awful. I had to bring the body out.” She sets her empty plate on the floor and tucks her knees up under her chin.

“Oh, Devon, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I mean I guess I never thought about it.”

“Yeah and animals. That really gets me too. But this was violence.” She takes a sip of wine. “She was shot in the head. That’s what Claire said.”

“It was all so fast and sudden and awful, and I only got one good look, but I think it was just one shot. I couldn’t really tell. It’s all really just a blur now. I don’t even really remember talking to the police. And then Mateus brought me home.”

“It’s just so weird to think she was just here last night. Out on the beach. Drinking beer.”

I shiver. That ache between my shoulder blades returns. “I know. This is going to be such a big deal. It’s going to be in the news. I’m going to be a freak on campus. Everyone’s going to want to talk to me. Damn.”

“Well, at least you weren’t killed.”

I stop for a moment and hear what I’m saying and how I sound. She’s right. Of course. I need to buck up.

“Did they offer you counseling services?”

“I think so, but I don’t really remember. Again, Mateus would have that information.”

“If they didn’t, there’s a good therapist who works with the Fire Department and I’ve used him before. He’s great.”

I level a gaze at her. “You’ve seen a counselor?”

“After a forty-five-year-old mother died and again after the baby. I just saw the guy, the shrink, last week.”

“That happened here? The baby?”

“The house fire in Camden? The one on the edge of town. I was on that call.”

Two months ago, three people died in that fire. It was awful.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“What’s anyone going to do for me? I’m just saying he’s good. He helped me think about why I do what I do, and how to think about a death like that. I’m just saying,” she says, picking up her plate again and scraping her fork along the edge to get the last bits, “he’s a good guy and I can put you in touch with him if you feel like you need to talk.”

“I think I’m ready for some wine if you don’t mind—”

She’s already up, dragging a little ceramic tumbler out of one of the cupboards. “You want the Shiraz or the Cab?”

“Shiraz.”