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“My garage ison fire?”

“We need to get you out of here!”Carla said, handing Martha her glasses.

Carla knew Martha would be embarrassed to be seen in her granny nightgown even though she was a granny.Carla grabbed Martha’s robe from the chair, and the two of them hurried down the stairs and out the back door.

When the smoke hit their lungs, they began coughing.They made it to the side gate when Martha stopped so suddenly that Carla almost fell over her.

“We need to get Fluffy!”Martha yelled over the approaching sirens that pierced the silence of daybreak.

“Go to the front yard,” Carla said.“I’ll find her.”

Carla turned and ran back inside the house.The flames had spread from the garage to the living room, and the smoke was thicker now, so she had to cover her mouth.

“Fluffy!Fluffy!”Carla called out as loudly as she could through her fingers.She tried not to breathe deeply as she looked under the couch and the dining room table, but no cat.She finally found Fluffy in the kitchen, licking the sides of her food bowl.

Carla snatched the cat, who never let anyone other than Martha pick her up.As Fluffy squirmed in her arms, Carla tightened her grip.

“You idiot, the house is on fire,” Carla said, quickly moving toward the back door.

By the time Carla reached the front yard, she was struggling to breathe, covered in soot and dripping in sweat.A crowd had formed on the street, and they cheered when she appeared with the cat.She carried Fluffy over to Martha, where two paramedics were examining her.

One of the paramedics stopped Carla as she turned to leave.“Ma’am, wait.I want to examine you; you must have inhaled a lot of smoke in there.”

“I’m fine.”She made a show of taking a big breath in and out.“See, not even a cough.”Carla ignored him when he called after her.

A vibrant, golden sun had risen just enough to illuminate the sky behind the house as if to compete with the fiery yellow flames reaching toward the heavens.Carla guessed at least ten firefighters sprayed the facade as the inferno fought to stay alive.

As Carla made her way across the lawn, she saw that her neighbors, Marvin Monson and his ten-year-old son, Jason, were watching the firefighters battle the flames.It was still too dark to tell whether Marvin was sober, but at least she could be sure Jason was.Next to the Monsons were Harriet Gadler and her husband, Louis, who were both seventy years old but a study in contrasts.While Louis was perpetually hunched over as if he were looking at his shoes, his wife still went to the gym four days a week and had biceps bigger than women half her age.

“Carla!”Harriet yelled.

Carla pretended she didn’t hear, but Harriet began gesturing wildly, so Carla had no choice but to go over to her.

“Oh, my goodness, you’re so brave,” Harriet said, then turned to her husband.“Lou, tell Carla what a hero she is.”

“It’s true.Youarea hero,” Louis said, raising his head just enough so Carla could glimpse a smile.

“Any of you would’ve done the same thing,” Carla said to her neighbors.

“Not me, I have a bad back,” Marvin Monson said, shaking his head, causing his blonde cowlick to sway like a feather sticking out of a cap.Someone who didn’t know Marvin might think his messy appearance was because he’d just woken from a sound sleep, but he looked disheveled even when he went to a formal event.

“I’m going back to bed,” Louis said, then hunched toward home.

“He wouldn’t have done anything,” Harriet Gadler said.“He barely takes out the trash.”

“I would’ve helped if I’d gotten here before the firemen,” Jason said with all the ego of a pre-teen boy.

“I know you would have,” Carla said.Using that moment to escape the attention, she dragged herself home.

Once inside, Carla rewarded Albert with a handful of dog treats, pulled a blanket off the couch, curled up, and fell asleep.She didn’t open her eyes until late afternoon when the sound of her stomach growling woke her.

On Monday morning, as soon as Carla finished her latte and pulled the latest comps of house sales for her new client, she headed to work.She liked to get in early before the sounds of printers pushing out papers and phones ringing took over.

At 9:00, the assistants chattering about their weekends echoed off the walls.At 9:15, the partners would come in.Carla had to be at a meeting in the conference room at 9:30.At 9:33, she grabbed her notes with all her new listings, opened the glass door, and headed for a seat at the large, oval table.She wanted to be a few minutes late to avoid the small talk.

As she sat down, the partners and their assistants looked up.All of them had goofy smiles on their faces.Do I have something hanging from my nose?she thought.

When they all stood up in unison, Carla was more confused.It’s not my birthday.