Leaving Normal Read Online Free PDF Page A

flowers.
    "Well, in case I don't see you again," she said lightly, "have a happy Thanksgiving."
    "You do the same. Hopefully we'll have a white Christmas this year."
    "That would be great. My daughter's coming home from college for Christmas." As soon as she'd said it,
    Natalie instantly cringed. Saying she was old enough to have a daughter in college—she might as well have waved her driver's license in front of him and declared she'd probably been in middle school while he was entering kindergarten!
    "That'll be nice to visit with her. I don't think I've seen her around."
    "No, she's been away since the summer." Changing her stance, she commented, "I noticed you have a little girl. She's very cute."
    "She's my stepdaughter." His brown eyes softened, a smile hooking itself on the corners of his mouth. "But I love her like my own."
    Endearing
. The man was utterly endearing and heroic… Natalie shrugged off further wayward thoughts. "Well, I have to get going."
    "Me, too. See you later."
    After he'd gone, Natalie's heart ached for reasons she couldn't begin to explain. She was unable to move, her feet planted to the concrete floor while she tried to make sense of what had happened. She had
never
been attracted to a married man—wouldn't even consider it. But Sarah was right—there was something about Tony Cruz. His male confidence exuded without effort.
    Unwillingly, she found herself responding to him, knowing full well he was married.
    Then it hit her.
    He was safe. Unlike a single man who she'd have to put herself out there for. With Tony Cruz there wasn't any emotional investment. It was just plain lust.
    Of course. That was it.
    She wanted him because she couldn't have him.
    * * *
    "Someone in the city just shot himself with a .45," Tony said as he unloaded Station 13's dishwasher.
    The bells had just gone off through the station, a female dispatcher's voice relaying the information on the radio speaker. Every Boise Fire Department was hooked into the same system so they could hear where the other engines were being sent.
    Station 5, the busiest in Boise, was being called to the scene. It was a morbid thought, but Tony thought it just the same: Now,
that
would be a good call.
    One thing about the holidays, shit happened 24/7. The fact that it was seven o'clock in the a.m. didn't mean anything. If someone was going to harm themselves, they didn't necessarily do it when the bars closed. The guy had probably been up all night contemplating shooting himself; he just now got the courage—or someone found him and tried talking him out of it, and that alone was all the catalyst he needed.
    "Number five," Captain Rob Palladino commented over the open newspaper on the table. "Those guys never sleep."
    The blades of a blender spun, churning through the words of Jim "Wally" Walcroft as he said, "Toss me that aspirin from my food locker, Captain."
    The captain tilted back on his chair legs, reached for a small plastic bottle and threw it across the kitchen. Wally swallowed two tablets, then kicked up the speed several levels and blended his protein shake.
    Hoseman Tony Cruz, Captain Rob Palladino and driver Jim Walcroft were coming off A Shift as sunshine tried to break through the gray winter sky. Their three reliefs from B Shift gathered with them in the kitchen.
    The six heavily built men wore blue pants and blue button-down shirts with the IAFF logo.
    With the dishwasher unloaded and having already taken out the trash, Tony leaned his backside into the countertop, his big arms folded across his chest. He lowered his right hand, laid it flat on his belly and thought about eating a slice of the half-eaten pumpkin pie on the table—food had been coming in steadily since Thanksgiving. Citizens had this need to feed firemen and the doorbell to the station house was always ringing with someone bearing food—especially during and after the holidays. The guys were committed to doing Atkins after the first of the year.
    While