Page 83
Story: Delicious
“Cancer,” I reply. “It was fast and aggressive. One minute we were being told, the next he was gone. He was…” I take a deep breath, forcing down the wave of pain that after three years hasn’t diminished. “He was larger than life. The lynchpin of our whole family. I idolised him. I’d just been accepted to Exeter University to study environmental studies when he got sick, but he was so proud. One of the last things he said to me was that he wanted me to go out and make a difference in the world. Dad was real big on conservation, especially when it came to the bay and the ocean. I’d also toyed with the idea of marine biology. Then he died and Mum still wanted me to go, said I shouldn’t give up my dream. So I went off to uni, still grieving and with his words ringing in my ears.”
“That must have been tough, trying to come to terms with his loss. Your family all had each other here, I presume, and you were away from home for the first time, your world upended.”
I jolt, staring at him in surprise. “Yes, it was, but no one understood that. No one asked me if I was okay. I get that they were all grieving in their own way. I don’t know…” I trail off. “I guess I just felt like they forgot about me. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” Cookie shakes his head. “It’s like you said, they were all grieving. Maybe they couldn’t see past their own pain.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I came to that conclusion myself. Eventually. I know my family love me, but we’re all alot. Big. Loud. You have to shout to make yourself heard sometimes. I just didn’t feel like shouting much.”
“So what happened when you got to uni?”
“It wasn’t a good fit.” I shrug. “I tried. I tried for nearly a year. It wasn’t just that I was dealing with dad’s death and missing my family. I didn’t belong there. Hated everything about it, especially the course. Making friends was a bit of a struggle too. I didn’t want to open up to anyone in case I vomited my unhappiness all over them.”
“I can understand that.”
“As it got to the end of the first year, there was a local careers fair, so I went along. Not so much with any real expectation of finding answers, more that it was a Saturday afternoon and I had nothing better to do. There was a recruitment tent there.”
“Recruitment?” His brows once again rise above the rim of his sunglasses. “Is this where you tell me you’re secretly G.I. Joe? Because then the muscles would totally make sense.”
“No.” I chuckle. “They were recruiting firefighters.”
“Firefighters?” His smile fades, his voice soft. “You’re a firefighter?”
There’s something in his expression that I can’t quite put a name to, but it’s fleeting, gone before I can figure it out.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, feeling a small weight lift now that I’ve told someone. Now that I don’t have to keep this part of my life secret anymore. “I don’t know what drew me to it. It’s not something I’d ever considered. But I signed up there and then. Dropped out of uni and started their training program, and just fell in love with the job. I finally felt like I’d found where I belonged.”
He pushes his glasses up onto his head, a move that draws back his pastel pink hair and exposes the dark roots.
“A calling?” he says, his dark eyes gentle and filled with understanding.
“Yes, that’s it exactly,” I reply. “After I completed my training, I was lucky enough to get a place at a fire station in Exeter. One of the other guys who worked there had a spare room to rent, which was great because I could no longer stay in the uni student accommodation.”
“Why didn’t you tell your family?” Cookie tilts his head and watches me. “Would they have hated it that much?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I admit. “But I couldn’t do it to Mum. She was reeling from losing her husband, and I couldn’t tell her that not only had I dropped out of uni but that I also was training for a job that put my life on the line every time I went on shift. I figured I’d just give things time to settle and see if this career would work out for me, but the more time that’s passed, the harder it is to just tell the truth.”
“I see.” Cookie chews his lip thoughtfully.
“But my placement at the Exeter fire station was only temporary. My contract ended just shortly before my uni course would have if I’d stayed. So I knew it was time to come home and be honest. I’ve got a spot at the fire station in Perranporth, which isn’t far, about twenty minutes away. I’m due to start in a couple of weeks. Figured once I’ve come clean, Mum wouldn’t mind me staying at home for a little while until I find a place of my own closer to work.”
“Wow,” Cookie breathes.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Now I just have to have the balls to tell everyone. I don’t know if they’re gonna be mad that I lied for so long or that I’m doing a dangerous job–”
“Or maybe they’ll be proud of you,” Cookie interrupts.
“Not sure about that.”
“Quinn.” He reaches for my forearm, and I feel the heat of his touch against my skin settle somewhere deep inside me. “I’m proud of you.”
“What?” I whisper in shock.
“I’m proud of you.” His eyes are filled with warmth. “The world needs heroes like you.”
I huff lightly. “I’m not a hero.”
“Do you or do you not run into burning buildings to rescue people?”
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