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One
Even though it was five o’clock on a rainy June morning, Jason Mosedale whistled as he strode into the apparatus bay of the Lake Bittersweet firehouse. He considered himself lucky to live in the most beautiful town in Minnesota, no matter the rain, lucky to work as a firefighter, lucky in most ways—with some giant glaring exceptions. He preferred to whistle through those.
The other crew members, volunteer and staff alike, groaned at the sound.
“You got laid, didn’t you?” grumbled Brent, a longtime member of the crew, the best driver they had.
“Isn’t that every day for him?” Colleen Hopper, one of the three women volunteers, nursed a steaming thermos of one of her herbal concoctions. She kept trying to coax the others into trying her mixes, but got no takers. “There’s hardly a woman in Minnesota who would kick him out of bed.”
“Sorry, aren’t you…?” Brent squinted at her from under his deer hunter’s cap.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” she said sternly. “But the answer is yes.”
“Uh, what’s the question?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Jason figured they were skating awfully close to some kind of human resources rule. He’d better put a stop to it, especially if he was going to apply for fire chief.
Big “if.” Would he be able to joke around like an ordinary crew member if he was the fire chief? Joking around was one of his favorite things in life. Was moving up in the world worth it? He still wasn’t sure, but he’d better figure it out soon because the board of aldermen wanted someone in place before the summer season really got going.
“Can’t a guy whistle just because he’s in a good mood?” He dumped his duffel bag next to his locker and pulled open the door. A blowup doll burst out of it, making him jump back in surprise.
The other firefighters howled in laughter. Good one, he had to admit. Nothing like a firehouse prank to kick off an early morning training exercise.
“If he didn’t get any last night, he can now,” called one of the volunteers.
“I heard he goes for the airhead type,” said someone else, triggering more laughter.
Jason composed his face into a serious expression, which was a big lift for him. His usual mode was fun-loving and easygoing. He loved life and saw no reason to hide that. He took hold of the doll and slowly, menacingly turned to face the ring of firefighters.
“What. The. Fuck…?” He spat the words out. Everyone’s smiles dropped away. Brick, the rookie, turned white and looked like he might throw up. Jason continued after a perfectly timed pause. “…are you still doing here? Can’t a guy get a little privacy?” He wrapped his arm around the doll’s plastic waist.
It took a moment, but then everyone howled with a new wave of laughter. Relieved laughter. The poor crew had no idea what to make of a seriously angry Jason Mosedale. Who would? It would be as if one of the local moose wandered out of the woods and ordered a cappuccino.
Someone at the edge of the crowd, back by the entry door, cleared their throat. “Should I come back another time? Looks like y’all are busy.”
Jason startled at the sight of Kendra Carter halfway in the door, her hand still on the doorknob. As always, even at this early hour, she looked stunning. Her hair was held back with a vivid red silk bandanna and she wore a tight-fitting white shirt.
He’d known Kendra forever; they’d even been friends in high school, sort of. Their lockers had been close together, and they’d exchanged friendly jabs nearly every day. She’d even tutored him in public speaking and American history.
But she’d jetted off early to an accelerated college slash business school program while he’d slogged through the rest of high school and then studied for the firefighter exam. Recently, she’d come back to town, and things had been…interesting between them. A little banter, some casual conversation, maybe even some flirting.
She had his attention, for sure. But as far as he could tell, she didn’t take him at all seriously.
Then again, she might have good reason for that. He remembered that he was holding a blowup doll and thrust it behind him.
“We’re about to start a training exercise, but if this is an emergency…”
“It is,” she said gravely, coming forward. “Why else would I be here before sunrise?”
The plastic arm of the doll popped out from behind his back. He shoved it down. Smothered laughter came from the crew.
“What’s the nature of your emergency?” He said it with hopefully enough sternness to make up for the absurdity of the blowup doll trying to sabotage Kendra’s impression of him.
Not that there was much to sabotage. In high school she’d thought of him as unambitious. She’d even lectured him about it.
“How should I know? Isn’t that your job?”
