Читать книгу The Firefighter's Refrain - Loree Lough - Страница 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

“CAN YOU BELIEVE this wind?”

“The rain is falling sideways!”

“You don’t think we’re in for another 2010, do you?”

Ciara, Bean and Ted stood side by side at the window, staring out at the street.

Rowdy used a meat mallet to hammer on the service counter. “Get away from that window, you bunch o’ goofballs. If this storm spins into a tornado like it did in ’98...”

The trio exchanged worried glances.

“You’ll be safe back here, washing up this mountain of dishes. And there’s a shipment of canned goods to unbox and shelve. Don’t make me count to ten, or—”

Finn watched all three hustle into the kitchen and get right to work, smiling because they knew as well as she did that Rowdy’s paternal glare was 100 percent bark, zero percent bite.

Jimmy stopped loading the dishwasher. “What happens if he gets to ten?”

“You ride that conveyor belt,” Rowdy answered. “And get the insubordination washed outta ya, that’s what!”

Ciara laughed. “You’re such a big silly, Rowdy. Everyone knows—everyone knows Jimmy can’t fit through that machine.”

Smiling, Finn went back to the stack of invoices on her desk. Oh, how she loved the people who’d become more family than employees! She and Ciara might not have the most normal parents in the world, but they had a whole lot of other things to be thankful for. A roof over their heads. Overstuffed closets. More than enough to eat. And a thriving business that would—

An earsplitting crash drowned out the kitchen sounds, followed by the unmistakable tinkle of glass shattering.

“I knew they should’ve cut down that old tree!” Rowdy shouted.

“What?” Finn was on her feet and beside him in an instant, staring, slack-jawed, at the still-dripping leaves and branches that filled the entire right side of The Right Note.

Rowdy ordered the diners and staff to stay put, then dialed 911.

Finn glanced around. At still-spinning red-vinyl stools, bent at awkward angles near the snack bar. At bench seats and tables torn from the bolts securing them to the black-and-white-tiled floor. At shards of glass and bits of metal that glittered like diamonds all around her feet. At the neon signs—one designed to resemble a staff and music notes above the words The Right Note Cafe, another that sputtered and buzzed in its futile effort to say Welcome—that hung precariously from their anchors.

Half a dozen customers had decided to wait out the storm in the diner.

“Is everyone all right?” Finn asked.

Nodding, they huddled in The Right Note’s far corner.

“That guy doesn’t look so hot,” Rowdy whispered.

Sure enough, an elderly gent stumbled from his booth.

“Call 911 again,” she whispered back. “He could have a heart condition or something.”

As Rowdy dialed, she put an arm around the man. “Better stay put until the EMTs get here,” she said.

“I’m fine,” he growled, waving her away.

Clearly he wasn’t, as evidenced by his halting, unsteady gait.

Finn guided him back into his booth. “Please, sir, just sit tight. I wouldn’t want you to trip over any of this...” She gestured toward the tree and debris.

He fumbled through his pockets, then cursed under his breath. “Now, where’s that infernal cell phone? I want to call my daughter, let her know I’ll be late.”

She glanced around, saw it in the middle of the table. Finn was about to hand it to him when she noticed his dilated pupils. Pete had insisted that she take CPR classes, so Finn recognized the symptoms of shock: trembling, cool yet clammy skin, bluish fingernails and lips.

“Here’s your phone,” she said. “Would you like me to call her for you?”

Rowdy draped a tablecloth over the man’s shoulders as the red-and-blue strobes of emergency vehicles whirled around the diner’s interior. A moment later, the place filled with first responders.

A burly firefighter approached. “What’s up?” he asked Finn.

She described the man’s symptoms.

“Good job. Thanks. Everybody else okay?”

She looked toward the out-of-town guests huddled in the opposite corner. “Yes, scared, but everyone’s all right.”

He squatted and signaled the nearest paramedic.

“Okay if I get those people into the back room?” she asked, pointing to the rest of her diners.

“Bob!” he bellowed. “Okay if these folks head to the back?” In a softer voice, he told Finn, “He’s just checking for structural damage. Wouldn’t want the ceiling to cave in on you.”

Bob moved closer. “Things look okay out here.” Using his ballpoint as a pointer, he asked, “Gas stove back there?”

“Yes...”

“Just let me make sure the connections are intact and there are no leaks before anybody goes anywhere.”

After poking and prodding, he gave the thumbs-up sign, and Finn waved her customers closer.

“Let’s get some dessert into you,” she said, guiding them to the big stainless table in the storeroom. “What’s your pleasure? Cake? Ice cream? Pie?”

“That’s very kind of you,” a young woman said, “but my husband and I would rather get back to our hotel.”

Members of the other family agreed. “Thanks for the offer, though,” the dad said. “Hope you’ll be back in business soon. We’ve enjoyed all our meals here.”

A cop approached and suggested they leave through the back door. Finn rounded up a few of the umbrellas left behind by former diners and passed them out.

“Sorry for the disturbance,” she said, grinning as they departed.

“Wasn’t your fault,” the mom said.

“Guess even the mighty oak has its limits,” the young woman’s husband said.

“You might want to round up some plywood,” the cop suggested. “And call your insurance agent.”

Finn exhaled a shaky sigh. He was right.

“A city inspector will come by in the next day or two, let you know what he thinks needs to be fixed.” He handed her a business card. “If you get Rick Martin, tell him I said hello.”

Frank Martin, the card said.

“He’s my brother. A real straight arrow. He won’t make reopening any harder than it has to be.”

Finn pocketed the card. “Thanks, Officer Martin.”

An hour later, the engine of a tow truck churned as it dragged the tree from the diner. One by one, the emergency vehicles drove off, leaving Finn and the staff to contemplate their next steps. They came together in a group hug.

“We’re all safe,” she told them. “That’s the most important thing. Once we clean up this mess, things will look a lot better.”

“She’s right,” Rowdy said. “So let’s get crackin’.” He disengaged from the huddle and meted out assignments. “Bean, grab a broom. Jimmy, you get the dustpan. Ciara, you bring the trash can over here so—”

“No, I think you should all go home. Get some rest, and we’ll talk about who does what tomorrow, okay?”

One by one, they agreed.

“I’ll go upstairs,” Ciara offered. “And make us—make us some tea. That always calms you down.”

“That’s a great idea.” Finn hugged her tight. “But don’t make mine just yet. I need to call our insurance agent.”

“You won’t be too long, will you?”

She checked her watch. “I hope not, but if I’m not there by ten, you go ahead and get into bed, okay?”

Ciara popped a noisy kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Okay. Love you, big sister!”

“Love you more!”

It was a game they’d played for years. Ciara had no way of knowing how much Finn meant every word.

When Ciara was gone, Rowdy asked, “What can I do for you, kiddo?”

“You can go home and put your feet up. Something tells me there will be plenty for you to do tomorrow.”

“No way I’m leaving you here alone with that gaping hole in the wall. Anyone with a mind to raid the cash box could just waltz right in and—”

Sam entered, as if summoned by a fairy godmother.

“Holy debris, Batman,” he said. “What happened in here?”

After Rowdy brought him up to speed, Sam got on his phone and, pacing, spoke quietly into the mouthpiece.

“Mark and the guys will be here in a few minutes,” he said, hanging up. “They’ll bring everything we need to close up this wall.”

Glass crunched under his boots as he paced, checking out the damage.

“We?”

Sam stopped walking and turned to face her. Finn blamed the events of the past hour—and not his caring expression—for her accelerated heartbeat.

“Of course we.” He gestured toward the gap. “Not even a superwoman like you can fix this all by yourself.”

“Superwoman, indeed,” she huffed. But he was right, of course, and rather than admit it, Finn said, “I’m surprised you heard the sirens over your blaring music.”

He grinned, and her heart thumped harder still.

“I’ll have you know,” Sam said, cocking an eyebrow, “we do not blare. We merely test the limits of the noise code. Things were slow tonight, and I heard the alert on my cell. Recognized the address and came right over.”

Finn was suddenly thirsty. Very thirsty. She went into the kitchen and fetched two bottles of water from the walk-in cooler. “So you’re still in the loop with the fire department?” she asked, handing one to him.

“Thanks.” He unscrewed the cap. “And yeah, I guess you could say that.”

She held out the second bottle to Rowdy, but he declined it. “Sounds like you’re pretty well set, here. If it’s okay, I think I’ll take you up on your offer to head home early.”

“Feel free to sleep in,” she told him. “There’s no point in going to the farmer’s market at the crack of dawn.”

The big man gave her a sideways hug. “Y’know, I might just do that...if I remember how to sleep past four!”

The place fell silent, save for the drip-drip-drip of rain plopping into the puddles just outside the broken window.

“I’ve seen a lot of destruction,” Sam said. “This looks way worse than it is. It’ll take some time, but you’ll be back in business before you know it.”

“And we’ll help,” Torry said, leading the parade of band members, each toting a four-by-eight-foot sheet of plywood.

“This stuff was left over from when we redid the bathrooms,” Mark said. “So don’t look at me like that. You’re doing us a favor, getting it out of the way.”

Regardless of where it came from, Finn intended to repay Mark for every last sheet. Mark and Sam, she corrected herself, since he was an owner now.

While the men hammered and sawed, boarding up the opening, Finn shoved aside stools, tables and benches and swept up glass and bits of metal and plastic that had held the big window in place. Already she could see that Sam had been right. It would take time and patience, but the diner would be good as new before long.

The Right Note had been providing for her since Pete had hired her at the tender age of fourteen. When he’d learned that the Learys were facing eviction, he’d given her a raise, more than enough to keep the wolf from the door while her parents spent the rent money on recording studios, drugs and alcohol. Two weeks after Ciara’s release from the hospital—and three days before Finn’s eighteenth birthday—Misty and Connor had left in the middle of the night. Gig in Chi-town, their note had said. Be good girls while we’re gone! Connor had signed Daddy, though neither she nor Ciara had used the term in years, and left two hundred dollars on the table. He hadn’t provided a phone number, address or the name of the club that had hired them. Two months later, when Pete found out what they’d done, he’d moved her and Ciara into the upstairs apartment. And when the Learys returned eight months after that, expecting to pick up where they’d left off, he’d made it clear they would not.

“Good ol’ Pete,” she muttered, remembering the tongue-lashing he’d given her folks.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing.” She faked a grin. Stop looking so sympathetic, Sam Marshall, she thought, or I’ll lose it. Finn hated few things more than blubbering in front of people, strangers in particular.

What would Pete say if he were here? “Look for the silver lining, cupcake. There’s always a silver lining.” Her eyes misted with tears. Oh, how she missed him!

“Well, we’re done,” Torry said, rapping on the plywood wall. “That’ll hold ya until your insurance agent cuts you a check.”

“Thanks, guys. You’re all entitled to free meals just as soon as we’re open for business.”

Torry took her aside. “Are you crazy, offering this motley crew free food? They’ll eat clean through to the kitchen, and you’ll have to start all over again!”

Laughing, the guys made their way out through the back door.

All except for Sam.

“I know a couple good contractors,” he said. “Recruits turned firefighters who used to work for family businesses. So, just say the word, and I’ll hook you up.”

“Thanks.” She glanced into her office, where the still-unpaid invoices sat on her desk. “I have a couple of phone calls to make.”

“Insurance agent?”

Finn nodded. “Thanks for rounding up that work crew. You’re right. No way Rowdy and I could have done all that alone. Especially not so quickly.”

“Happy to help.”

It was what everyone said, but it rarely sounded more heartfelt.

Sam handed her a business card. “If you need anything, you know, while you’re waiting for the agent to get back to you, call me. Any time. Even if it’s just to talk.” He looked around the place. “Because I’m guessing this hit you pretty hard.”

Why, oh, why, did he have to seem so sincere? Tears stung her eyes, and Finn held her breath. You will not cry. Do. Not. Cry!

Sam took a step closer, stooping slightly to study her face. Why didn’t he just leave? She’d ask him to go...if she could speak around the sob in her throat.

“Aw, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” he said, and extended his arms.

If anyone had told her she’d so willingly step into them, she would have called them insane.

But that was exactly what she did, and safe was exactly how she felt.