Firefighter's Virgin

“My dad’s the best doctor,” Declan said. “I want to be a firefighter when I grow up, though.”

“That’s a very good job to pick,” I said. “Firefighters are very brave.”

“I am brave! Look, I can pick up this spider.” And he leaned down and plucked a rather scary-looking spider from the edge of the driveway. I almost jumped out of my skin just seeing the spindly legs and the black, bulbous body, but I forced a grin. “You are very brave,” I said. Instead of squashing it, like many little boys his age would have, Declan carefully walked the spider over to the front lawn and put it down. “It’s not bad if spiders get into the house,” he said. “Because then they’ll spin webs and catch other bugs, like mosquitos.”

“All right, bud, let’s say bye and get in the car,” Cole said. “It was very nice to meet you two.”

“You too,” I said, and I waved at Declan as he went over and climbed into the back seat of the car.

“He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring,” my mother said once we were back in the kitchen.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Of course you would notice that. And just because someone isn’t wearing a wedding ring, it doesn’t mean that they’re not married.”

“I got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t, though.” She sighed. “Not that you want to get involved with a man who has a child. That’s a whole Pandora’s box that’s probably better left untouched.”

“Kind of ironic coming from someone who did exactly that,” I said, though of course she had a point. If she had never gotten involved with Bill, he never would have tried to come into my bedroom when I was a teenager.

“Allie, I don’t want you to think I’m not supportive of your decisions,” Mom said. “It’s just that I can’t help but worry about you alone up here. I mean, you’re living in a house all by yourself! What if you need help with something?”

“Like what? Opening a jar of pickles? I lived alone when I was in Boston, too, Mom, and I somehow managed just fine.” It was when I was living with her and Bill that things weren’t so great, but I didn’t bring that up.

“So what have you got planned, other than work?” my mother asked. “Not that there’s much to do around here.”

“Well, work is a pretty big one,” I said. “I definitely want to get settled into my job, and I’ll probably do a little exploring. I need to set up some appointments once my insurance goes through. I haven’t been to the dentist in like a year.”

“You’ve got good teeth. Do you floss?”

“Yes.”

“That’s more important than brushing, you know.”

“It is?”

“Absolutely. Especially as you get older. Just ask your dentist. He’ll tell you I’m right.”

“I need to make an appointment for a physical, too.”

“That’s a good idea. You definitely want to take care of your health. When was the last time you had an annual? That’s probably even more important than the dentist, you know.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “They both seem pretty important.”

“Well. It’s more important once you’ve become sexually active...” My mother let the sentence die off, waiting to see if I would confirm or deny anything.

“Still not,” I said. “And still don’t feel like having this conversation with you, either.”

Ever since I’d turned 18 (I guess the age that my mother had decided a girl should have lost her virginity by), my mom had been pestering me about the fact that I still had not had sex. At first it had been something like a joke, something she gave me a good-natured hard time over, but now it seemed more as though she was actually concerned.

She squinted at me. “You’re getting a little old, aren’t you, Allie? There aren’t many 24-year-old virgins left in the world, you know.”

“I haven’t met the right guy, I guess.” I decided not to mention that the past couple days it had been burning when I peed. Dr. Google was telling me that it was probably a urinary tract infection, but if that was the case, I would likely need a prescription for an antibiotic.

My mother gave me a grim look. “Well, other than your neighbor over there, I wouldn’t say you’re going to have that many prospects around here.”

I was a little nervous about my first day at the Learning Center, though not as nervous as I’d been at some of my other jobs. I’d had a phone interview with Becca, the executive director, and then I’d driven up for two days to meet with the Kris, the lead teacher, and Amy, the other teacher, a short girl with thick brown hair and pretty blue eyes. They were regular, down-to-earth people who really enjoyed their work, and that made me feel at ease. The kids were all great, too, and I was looking forward to getting to know them.

The center had big windows, wide hallways, and white walls covered with student artwork. That was one of my favorite parts of working with kids this age—their imaginations were so great.

I was across the room, reading a story to a small group of girls when I saw Cole dropping off Declan. He was talking with Kris, but he looked right at me and gave a little nod. I looked back down at the book without acknowledging him, though Declan came bounding over and wriggled his way onto my lap. When I looked back over to the entrance, Cole was gone.