The Switch (18 page)

“That’s not true.” He set his hand on her arm, but she shook it off, stood and grabbed her jacket from the peg by the door. “I’m going for a walk.” She checked to make sure she had her key, then took off. She could feel Carl’s eyes on her back until the door closed between them.

Tia continued to be standoffish through the week. Danny stopped in to see her whenever he wasn’t at work, even coming for breakfast again, though he didn’t break out the famed peaches and ice cream pancake topping.
 
He noticed she didn’t give him the cold shoulder outright, but held back part of herself.

At first he thought part of it was frustration about her phone falling in the bath, then he tried to excuse it as confusion about why Lisa hadn’t responded to her letter.

Samantha seemed to be struggling, causing more trouble and picking on her sister more, and Mona never backed off.

But after a while, Danny realized there was something more serious going on. Something that had to do with him, specifically.

He dropped by Tia’s place at the girls’ bedtime, giving her a break as he read them stories and tucked them into bed. Then he came back out to the living room and watched her move anxiously around the kitchen. “What’s going on, Tia?”

“I’m cleaning up.”

He dropped his voice a few notes, allowing it to grow husky. “Tia.”

She stopped wiping down the cupboard, standing there for a long moment before turning to face him. “What do you want?”

“I want to understand what’s bothering you.” He crossed to her, ran a finger along her cheek. “Something’s been bothering you for more than a week. Can’t you tell me what it is?” Her skin was cool and soft, and he watched her eyes close as his finger trailed along her jaw to her chin.

“I just have a lot on my mind.” Her hands came up to his waist, settling there.

“Anything in particular that made you take a step back from us?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, pain radiating from her. “I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Your job is dangerous.”

He felt his brow furrow as his hand dropped from her chin. “Yeah, it can be sometimes. Most of the time it’s perfectly safe, though.”

“But firefighters get hurt, killed in fires. EMTs get hit at accident scenes, are exposed to pathogens, accidental needle sticks.” She fisted her hands in his shirt.

“Woah, slow down.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and urging her head against his chest. “Hey, it’s not that bad. Most accidents are avoidable—and believe me when I say that I try to avoid anything dangerous.”

“You
try
, huh?”

“Your line of work isn’t without its dangers,” he pointed out. “If it were, we would never have met.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Sure it is. School teachers get beaten up, risk their health and eye sight with long hours of grading and test writing. Hospital staffs deal with abusive patients, virulent germs, truck drivers risk road accidents, back problems from lifting. Every job on this planet has its risks.”

“Some are worse than others.”

“True.” He pressed a kiss to her head, wishing he could take away the pain and worry that plagued her.

“Would you quit your job if I asked you to?” she asked. “Find something safer?”

Shock rippled through him. He did not hear those words. He released her, pushed her back, and looked her in the eye. “Are you kidding me?”

Tears poured down her cheeks, and her face crumpled. “You have no idea how hard it was for me when Lee died.” She wiped at her face, and moved away when Danny tried to touch her shoulder. “It was hard knowing I would have to have Tristi without him when he was half a world away. But then he died and I knew he’d never be back, that both my girls would grow up fatherless, that I would never have his love and support. It was more than I could stand.”

“Honey, I’m sorry it was so bad for you. I can only imagine how worried you were about how you would make ends meet and how you’ve managed to handle all of this alone.” He ached to touch her, but wasn’t sure how she’d accept it. “You’re so amazing to me.”

“I’m not amazing. I’m scared and worried and never have enough day to get halfway through my to-do list. I can’t imagine . . . ” Her hands curled up at her sides. “You’re important to me, Danny. More important than I thought possible. I don’t know if I can handle getting any closer to you, knowing you could die out there, without going crazy.”

He pulled her close again and rested his cheek on her head, tears stinging his own eyes. “It’s not like that, Tia.”

“It’s exactly like that. Did you know the on-the-job death rate for firefighters is higher than for police? And it’s almost as high for EMTs.”

“Higher than for police? Hmm, I hadn’t heard that. I suppose you looked it up?” He wasn’t the least convinced that it was more dangerous than any other job if you took reasonable precautions.

“Of course.”

“And what was the cause of all these deaths?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “More than half were heart attacks and strokes from stress on the job.”

“Really?” That sounded fair. It was why they had to check all firefighters before they could go back into a structure fire. “And what about EMTs?”

She pulled back and looked at him in disgust. “Did you know ambulances are death traps? Seriously, more than two thirds of all deaths of EMTs were in ambulances and helicopters. You’d think they could put you in a safer vehicle.”

 
He pressed the hair back from her face, then led her to the sofa and pulled her down beside him so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. “I know. It’s one of the things they warn us about all the time. Ambulances are top heavy, and it can be hard to do patient care if you’re wearing your seat belt. We take every precaution possible to stay safe, honey. You have to believe that, and have faith that I’ll come home in one piece.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple. Not always easy, but simple.” He urged her head up with his free hand and kissed her, lingering over it until he felt her muscles relax. “I can’t quit my job, Tia. It’s where I’m supposed to be.” Pulling back, he met her gaze, knowing he had to clear the air. “And I don’t think you’d want me if I could be so easily manipulated.”

She pushed him away with both hands, clearly offended. “Are you calling me manipulative?”

He gave her a steady look and wished he’d picked a different word. Still, he wasn’t going to back down. “If the shoe fits.” He grabbed her hand as she stood and tried to move away. He tugged it and pulled her onto his lap. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away when we’re having a disagreement.”

“Call it what it is. We’re fighting.” She held herself stiff, so she didn’t lean against him, but she didn’t try to stand, either.

“Maybe, but walking away isn’t going to solve things.”

“I don’t know if anything can solve things.”

His jaw tightened and he took a slow, measured breath before continuing, not wanting to react to the words and how much they hurt him, but choosing to act on the pain that caused her to say it. “Last fall a few heated words ended my relationship with Carrie, and I let her go, almost relieved to see the end of things. I’m not going to stand by and watch us fall apart. You’re too important to me.”

She stilled in his arms. “I’m too important to you? It sounds like it.”

“Hey.” He waited until she turned her head to face him. “I’m not saying that what you feel isn’t important to me, that I’m not going to do everything in my power to stay safe, but I’m a paramedic firefighter. It’s part of who I am—like cooking is part of who you are—even though you could get burns, poisoning, or another severe allergic reaction.” He held her gaze. “It’s what I studied for, and I love it. Don’t make me choose between you and my career. Either way, I lose.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then dug down and said the words that had been on the tip of his tongue for too long. “I love you, Tia.”

Her breath caught and she stared as if she didn’t believe him. “You love me? But we haven’t known each other that long.”

“Long enough. All I know is it would rip me apart to lose you. Please don’t do this.”

She tipped her forehead onto his shoulder. A long moment passed. “I like you the way you are. I don’t want you to change. It just scares me.”

He felt that knot of tension in his stomach release. “I know it does. I promise, if I ever develop a heart condition, I’ll quit my job and become a greeter at Wal-Mart. If you develop another dangerous food allergy, you’ll quit your cooking show and become a cashier somewhere.”

She chuckled. “About equally likely, I take it?”

“The odds are slightly more likely that I’ll develop a heart condition—in another forty years or so.”

“Well, as long as we understand each other.” She lifted her head and ended the conversation with a kiss.

Tia was nervous. Claire was supposed to arrive any moment, and Tia was afraid things wouldn’t go nearly as well as Claire expected. The woman had been oozing excitement every time they’d spoken—which had been daily since Tia got her phone running again.

The test kit had actually arrived on Saturday and Tia had gotten together with her dad to get his DNA sample that night.

Ron seemed to be dealing with everything fine. If she went more than a few days between calls or emails, he would contact her, check to see how she was doing. She appreciated his support, especially since Mona was being so difficult.

Because Mona was being . . . herself, Tia thought, they hadn’t mentioned Claire’s arrival, nor had Mona take the DNA test. If Ron matched, that would be enough proof and she would deal with it then.

Tia checked the pizza again through the oven window and noticed it hadn’t browned noticeably in the past thirty seconds. She stood, telling herself not to be an idiot as she walked back to the living room. Samantha and Tristi were at Nichole’s and they’d be staying there all evening. Danny and Wes would be by a little later, and she had made arrangements for Claire to meet Ron the next day.

The doorbell rang and Tia jumped slightly. She opened the front door to find a woman on the other side. Claire was shorter than Tia expected, around five-foot-three with straight black hair, an eyebrow piercing, and a visible butterfly tattoo on her upper right arm. Her smile was broad and her blue eyes danced with excitement. The heavy black eyeliner wasn’t nearly as attention-getting as the black leather micro-mini skirt and black lacey tank top that peeked from beneath the woman’s black marshmallow coat. Seeing all the exposed skin, Tia wondered if she wanted Danny to join them after all before pushing the thought away.

“You must be Tia,” Claire said, her voice as bright as her smile.

“Yes, welcome, Claire, come on in.” She gestured through the doorway and stepped back for the other woman to enter.

They went to the kitchen where Tia had prepared a green salad to go with dinner. “How was your trip?”

“It was fine, a little long, you know? I was tired when it was time to come here, even though I was totally excited, but one of those energy drinks totally took care of that. I’ll probably be wired for hours now.” She looked around the room. “Where are your girls?”

“At the neighbors’. I thought it would be better if we didn’t have too many interruptions tonight.” Tia pulled out four plates from the bone china set she’d inherited from Mona’s mother—who could be Claire’s grandma. She wondered, if the tests came back positive, should she pass the dishes to the rightful grandchild? The thought made her sad; she’d loved Nana so much. She brushed the subject aside. There would be time to consider those kinds of implications later, when Claire wasn’t already talking as fast as a freight train.

“I totally understand. They aren’t really my nieces, anyway, so how would you explain?” She studied the plates Tia set in front of her, a little disconcerted. “Are these family heirlooms?”

“They were a gift to me,” Tia answered, not willing to explain. Claire seemed so ready to jump into things.

Claire looked almost relieved. “They’re nice, I guess, but totally not my style.” She folded her arms on the tabletop and leaned forward. “So you mentioned your boyfriend was coming tonight.”

“Yes, he and Wes will be here soon.” The doorbell rang and Tia smiled in relief. Claire appeared to feel no awkwardness at all, but Tia couldn’t shake it. “That’s probably one of them now.”

She hurried to the door and let Wes in. “Hey, welcome. Claire’s already here.”

“Good. What about the firefighter?” Wes asked as he gave her a quick hug.

“Not yet. Any time now.” Tia checked her watch, it wasn’t quite six.

She followed Wes back to the kitchen where he introduced himself to Claire. Tia turned her attention to the oven, smiling when she saw a nice golden brown on the edges of the crust. She reached for her oven mitts as she listened to Claire and Wes go through the motions, asking the pleasant and polite questions you posed to someone the first time you met.

After Tia set the pizza pan on the cookie rack to cool for a few minutes, she turned and studied Wes and Claire. They didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable. Wes sat beside the woman who could be his sister, chatting amiably, asking questions about her work and her fiancé. Tia wasn’t sure how she felt about the instant report. Could she really be replaced so easily?

She spent another minute looking for a resemblance between them—any resemblance. Not all siblings looked alike, she told herself, but there did seem to be a similarity around the eyes and nose. When Claire flashed a bright smile, Tia thought it looked much like Ron’s, and her heart sank in her chest.

 
The doorbell rang, and Tia hurried to the living room, glad to get away. She knew she was being stupid. She’d been looking for the woman who could be Wes’s true sister, so why was she suddenly feeling territorial?

She smiled as she opened the door for Danny, who brought a tub of ice cream with him. “Hey, honey,” He scooped her close with his free arm and kissed her soundly.

When he released her, she looked at the ice cream. “We’re not having pancakes tonight. I thought I told you it’s pizza.”

He chuckled and turned her back to the kitchen, his arm still around her shoulder. “Well I wouldn’t want to try putting ice cream on pizza—that would be plain gross. Especially fudge ripple. I guess it’ll have to be dessert instead.”

He smiled and introduced himself to both Claire and Wes, and slid the ice cream into the freezer as if he belonged in that space, Tia’s home, with her. She thought of his declaration of love and wondered if she would be able to make herself take that step and really let him in.

* * *

Though Claire had checked into a motel, she hung around after the guys left that night. Tia put the girls to bed and then returned to where Claire was flipping through the television stations with the remote.

“All set?” she asked.

“Yeah. That should guarantee us at least . . . ” Tia pulled a likely number out of the air, “Three minutes before the first disruption. Ten if we’re really lucky.” She stood in the room entrance with her thumbs in her back pockets.

Claire chuckled. “The joys of motherhood.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Tia asked. They’d spent the evening answering lots of questions for Claire, but Tia had a few of her own. “I make the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“Well, how could I turn down the world’s best?”

Tia tipped her head toward the kitchen and watched Claire click the television off and rise to follow.

Tia got out cocoa, sugar and powdered milk and set them on the counter.

Claire stared at her. “You’re going to make cocoa from scratch?”

“Yeah. I like it better than anything I can find prepackaged.”

“I knew you were into cooking and stuff, but I’ve never met anyone who makes hot cocoa from scratch. Does you mom cook like you do?”

Tia laughed and reached for a sauce pan. “Not even close. I learned to cook to keep from starving—she prefers eating out, or heating something frozen. Her mom cooked pretty well, though. She’s the one who taught me the basics. The rest I learned on my own.” She measured in water to boil, then added sugar and cocoa.

Claire watched her for a long moment. “I don’t know anyone like you. Our worlds are completely different.”

“Yeah, they seem to be.” Tia pulled out a wire whisk and mixed everything up. “So tell me about your family.”

“I wondered when you’d get around to asking.” Claire took the stool nearby and watched. “I have a sister, Marie, she’s four years younger than me and my parents’ favorite. She went to college and got a teaching certificate last spring. She works with disabled children.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Claire’s tone indicated there was major sibling rivalry there. “Everyone loves her.”

“And you? Do the two of you get along?”

“Fine,” Claire said with a shrug. “We have so little in common, and with four years between us, we didn’t do any of the same things growing up. I mean,” she grabbed the salt shaker from the counter and started fiddling with it, “we have nothing in common. She’s the perfect daughter, and I’m a screw up. She did great in college and I barely made it through my CNA. I keep thinking of going back to school for more medical training, but I don’t think I’ve got it in me. I hated school.”

“And your parents? You haven’t really talked about them.” Tia had tried not to be curious about Claire’s family, but couldn’t help herself. The thought that these could be
her
parents was terrifying.

Claire shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve never really been good enough for them—but I didn’t want to fit their mold.” She looked back at Tia. “My parents hate the way I dress and do my hair and makeup. I think I went a little to the left because they expected me to hold right.”

“Parents’ expectations can be hard.” Tia looked back at the mixture in her pan. “And their idiosyncrasies can be frustrating. My mom is a little . . . needy. And she worries over every little thing. That’s how this all started, actually. I had a bad reaction to pine nuts for a dish I was developing for my show, and ended up in the hospital.”

Claire’s eyes grew round with surprise. “That must have been scary.”

“Yeah. Mom decided I
must
get medic alert bracelets for the girls and myself in case we ever needed a blood transfusion or something.” She gave a brief explanation about what happened from there—leaving out the bit about the infidelity. There would be time to mention that when they knew absolutely that Claire was related.

Before Claire left for her hotel that night, she did the cheek swab. Once she had driven off in her little blue clunker, Tia sealed the envelope and clipped it to her front door. She would take the package to the post office on her way to work.