Firefighter's Virgin

We were sitting on the deck, watching as my dad and Declan played around with the remote control, and then fly the airplane into the air.

“Well, thanks again for taking him out,” I said. “Not just today, but all these Sundays.”

“It’s the least we could do, and you know that. Did you have a good time while we were out?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I went for a bike ride.” The truth was, it was hot and humid, and with every pedal stroke I’d been tempted to just turn around, but I forced myself to finish the route.

“Declan seemed to enjoy himself today,” my mother said, watching as the plane did loops and twirls through the air. “He asked if we could go fishing next week.”

“I’ll have to dig out his old fishing pole, if I can find it.”

“We’ve still got your old one. It’s in good shape.” She paused. “He also asked us if we could invite Allie.”

“Did he?”

“Yes. He said since you usually don’t go with us, that maybe Allie could go.”

“Oh. Well... that doesn’t entirely surprise me. He’s been asking about her.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it? And he doesn’t understand the details about all of that. Not that he should, at that age.”

“I know. I tried to explain it to him the best I could, but I think it just frustrated him even more. Because Declan thinks if we’re fighting, we should just make up and then everything can go back to the way it used to.”

My mother smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that easy?”

“It would.”

“This whole thing has been bothering me, though,” she said. “I’ve been losing sleep over it.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been losing sleep over things.” I paused. “I went and saw a therapist on Thursday.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m not sure if I’m going to contin

ue with the therapy, though.”

“It’s good you’re at least trying it. It can really help. I appreciate you telling me. Though I feel guilty over that, too. I think I’m probably a large reason why you’re in therapy to begin with.”

“You feel guilty over a lot of things, don’t you?” The reply sounded snappier than I meant it to.

“Of course I do,” my mother said. “How could I not? But we can’t go back in time. We can’t go back and change things, no matter how much I sometimes wish that we could.”

“I know, Mom.”

She took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly. “You know,” she said, “there was a time when I lost both you and your sister. Do you remember that? I think you were probably 6 or so.”

“You lost us?”

“I lost the two of you. For almost an hour. We had gone to Provincetown, and were walking down Commercial Street. We had just stopped at the saltwater taffy place, and you and Marissa had little bags of candy. And then your father and I happened to run into friends of ours that we hadn’t seen in ages, and we started talking, and they hadn’t met you guys before, so we introduced you, and you guys went and sat on one of the benches out front of this little shop that we were standing by, and I just... I got caught up in the conversation. Your father and I both did. And I remember finally looking over—I don’t even remember how much time had passed—and the bench was empty.”

“Really?” I said. “That really happened?” But now that she mentioned it, I did have a vague recollection, just a snippet, really, of a memory: sliding off the granite bench, the way a rough spot on the edge scraped the back of my legs, taking my sister by the hand as I told my parents we were just going for a walk. I knew they hadn’t heard me, but I had felt completely safe on the streets of Provincetown, had no fear whatsoever that anything bad would ever be able to happen to us. I had kept waiting for one of my parents to call us back, but that call never came, and we kept walking, down to the Wharf, where we sat in the warm sand and watched the waves roll in.

The only other thing I remembered from that day was a feeling, a feeling of exhilaration, that I had done something I knew my parents wouldn’t want me to do, but I had anyway, and it turned out just fine.

I looked at my mother and shrugged. “I remember that a little bit,” I said. “I think. Marissa and I went down to the Wharf. We sat in the sand and ate the rest of our candy.”

“When we finally found you, I was so relieved. And at the same time, I was so, so angry with myself. And your father. What kind of parents were we, letting our kids just wander off like that? Because we were too busy talking? Everyone was always telling me what a great mother I was, but what good mother would let their kids just get lost? It was a terrible feeling, so I know how you feel, Cole. But what you have to understand is that all parents make mistakes sometimes. No parent is able to pay 100 percent of their attention to their children 100 percent of the time. No matter what we tell ourselves. I had a hard time accepting that, for a while, but I had to forgive myself. Because you guys were fine, and because that was a very good lesson that I would never forget.”