Firefighter's Virgin

“Do you really want to get into this? It’s all water under the bridge now.”

“No, it’s not, because whatever it was you talked to him about directly affected me. So it’s not just ‘water under the bridge now’ or whatever it is you want to call it.”

“Perhaps this isn’t the time or the place for this,” Billy’s mother said.

“I don’t think it’s ever the time or place to have your parents interfere with something like this.” I could feel my anger rising, my voice getting louder; I didn’t care. Who the hell did these people think they were? Why did they think for a second that it would be okay? “You know what? You don’t have to tell me what you said to Ian—I’m sure it was something vile. Or it was probably a lie. Or some combination of the two. But now let me tell you something. I am not interested in dating your son.”

The air seemed to hang heavily between us. Billy’s mother blinked like she couldn’t believe that someone was actually saying this about her son. His father’s expression was harder to read, though it might have been bordering on one of amusement. Billy, I could only see out of the corner of my eye, and his head was in his hands.

“It’s not that I don’t think he’s very nice—because I do,” I said, wanting to backpedal a little, but not enough so they’d get the wrong idea. “He seems very nice, and we actually get along quite well, but I will never date him. And would you like to know why?”

“No, it’s really okay,” Billy said, picking his head up. “It’d be great if we actually just terminated this entire conversation. Is that possible? Can we do that? Or should I just get up and leave?”

His mother reached out and patted his hand. “Sweetie, it’s your birthday,” she said. “I want this to be a happy celebration.”

He grimaced. “Well, there’s no way in hell that’s going to happen.” He looked at me. “Daisy, I’m really sorry. I think I got the wrong idea, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. I think you’re really great—I’ve got no shame in admitting that. And if you wanted to date me, I’d be thrilled. But if it’s just a friend thing for you, that’s cool. I’m fine with that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything.”

“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad to hear you feel that way, even if it seems that your parents don’t. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but there is no way in hell I am going to date you. I realize that sounds pretty harsh, but I think that’s required in this sort of situation.”

I was looking at Billy’s dad as I said this though, and he was just sitting there like he couldn’t be more amused. Is that all he thought this was? Did he think this was funny?

“I can see that you mean business,” he said finally. He held up his hands. “I apologize if it seems that any boundaries were crossed. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Just because it wasn’t your intention doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” I said. “But I do mean exactly what I’m saying, and that is that regardless of whether Ian and I end up back together or not; I’m not dating your son. You don’t get to make that choice for me.”

Billy’s dad nodded. “I can see that you mean it,” he said. “I won’t interfere.”

“And I don’t know what exactly the terms of all this were with Ian, but he certainly doesn’t seem like the type of person who just goes and does something because someone asked

him to. So whether you were going to take your business elsewhere or do something to him, may I suggest that you don’t do that.”

“Or what?” Billy’s father asked. “What sorts of repercussions will be facing if we do?”

“Seamus.” Billy’s mom shook her head. She looked at me. “We’re sorry,” she said. “Truly. Billy’s father and I have been hoping he’d find a girl and settle down soon, and we were delighted when your name started coming up because it seemed like he’d really taken an interest in you. But obviously we don’t want to force anyone to do anything, and we want everyone to be happy. So please accept our apologies about this whole . . . misunderstanding. It certainly was not our intention.”

“Um, yeah. Well, I better get going. I’m sorry if this ruined your birthday.”

I left, wondering if that whole interaction had just been one bizarre dream. So many completely implausible things seemed to have happened to me lately that it wouldn’t have surprised me at all if I had woken up to find myself still employed at the salon, Ian just a figment of my (obviously) twisted imagination.

I felt agitated, and I didn’t know what to do with that. Part of me wanted to call Ian, wanted to go find him, throw myself into his arms again. Tell him I knew why he’d said what he did, and that he didn’t have to do what Seamus said.

But instead of calling Ian, I called Carl. Whether he was aware of it or not, he had really helped me when I had talked to him for the research he was doing for his book, and I was hopeful that maybe he could help me again, though I wasn’t exactly sure what that help would look like.

“It’s good to see you again, Daisy,” he said.

“Thanks for meeting with me. I know it was short notice.”

“Of course. So what is it that you wanted to talk about? You sounded a little frazzled when you called.”

“Well . . . a lot has happened since I last talked to you, yet somehow, I basically find myself in the same position that I was in before. Which seems odd because of all that has happened. And I just really don’t know how to process it. You know that guy that I said I felt like I was meant to be with? We ended up getting back together after that, because I was trusting my feelings, you know, like you had said. And it was great. Really, really great. For a very short time, I felt as though things were actually working out how they should be. I didn’t feel so . . . lost. Which I guess sounds kind of stupid now, but it’s the truth.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Carl said. “So what happened?”

“What happened is the guy—Ian—suddenly told me he couldn’t see me anymore. It made no sense because we’d only just gotten back together, and things were great, and then out of the blue, he says this. Something didn’t seem right about it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. And then this other guy that I’m kind of friendly with who is a client of Ian’s, he’s interested in me, I guess. And his father basically told Ian to back off so his son could have a chance.”

“Really,” Carl said. “That must’ve been a surprise to you.”

“It was. I mean, I don’t know exactly how old he is, but I think he’s closer to Ian’s age, so that makes him in his early thirties. And to have your father getting involved like that seems sort of . . . weird.”