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and when he took her home, he showed her a love poem and told her about his notebook full of them. That’s when they kissed. It was long and passionate. She smiled like a fool all night, even when she went to bed.
    The next day Trey found out she had a boyfriend. They didn’t talk for a week. She almost lost him.
    Her friend Angel was mad at her for a while too, which didn’t make sense until she confessed she had secretly liked Stan. Back then, when love conquered all, including common sense, the other stuff didn’t matter. Rosette loved Trey and wanted to be with him. That’s all she cared about.
    Wasn’t it funny how she could step into that memory and feel that way again? It made it all the more jolting to think about her life now.
     
    Rosette shivered and realized the bathwater was almost cold. She thought about taking a hot shower to warm up, if there even was hot water, but she dragged herself out instead and wrapped in a towel. It was plenty late enough to go to bed, so she dressed in pajamas and crawled under the covers, just starting to warm up again.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Trey sat in the office that night with the phone in his hand for a long time, thinking. Finally he called his boss, despite the time. It was almost ten but he needed to do this. He’d been off for a week and a day now. That meant Ricky had been gone eight days. They’d offered him more time, but he didn’t want it now. How could he stay home tomorrow and face Rosette? They had agreed to talk about things after the funeral, but he just wasn’t ready.
    He didn’t like the idea of EMT work right now either, not with his mind so foggy, but he hoped that dealing with other people’s emergencies would clear his head. It’d be better than things at home…unless they got one of those calls. But most calls weren’t that bad. Some were even fairly minor. Nothing like dealing with wounded soldiers. Here they got calls for heart attacks, strokes, or car wrecks. He could handle broken bones and some bleeding. It only really got to him when there was blood everywhere and horrific wounds. It took a hell of a car accident here to match a blown-apart Marine.
    Harry answered before Trey felt ready.
    “Harry, hi, I wanted to let you know I’d like to come in tomorrow.”
    “Trey, are you sure that’s a good idea? I know things gotta be tough. You’ve got a family to think about… I don’t want to push things.”
    So Harry still thought he couldn’t handle coming back to work. It’d been months since he’d had a flashback; did Harry think Ricky’s death would drop him into that dark tunnel again?
    “I need to do something productive,” Trey replied, offering the best argument he could think of. “Rosette’s got things covered here at the house.”
    He stopped to let Harry answer, but that answer didn’t come. It was silent on the line, the kind of silence you hear at a race right before the starter’s pistol fires. Where was that shot? “…Harry?”
    “I…all right. It’s up to you. If you think you’re ready, I’ll put you in the schedule tomorrow.”
    Ready can be a funny thing to define.
     
    ~  ~ ~
     
    Rosette awoke to the faint sound of Trey’s cell phone ringing downstairs. Funny how a mother wakes to the quietest noise, even a soft newborn cough. Thank the good Lord they were past those early years with the kids. She rolled over in bed to squint at the alarm clock.
    It was midnight. Who would be calling him so late? It didn’t sound like he’d answered it, but he could be returning the call. Rosette sat up, feeling alternating chills and waves of heat, as she feathered out the suspicions creeping in. Did he think they’d already severed their tie, and he was now free to talk to other women?
    The landline phone on the nightstand rang.
    Her heart skipped a couple beats. Something had happened, she could feel it, but what could be worse than Ricky dying?
    She always answered the phone with “hello,” but this time