Hard to Resist

chapter FIVE



ETHAN AND TONY WERE clearing the lunch dishes when Bing Tate entered with a bookish young woman dressed in khakis and carrying a tape recorder. “Got a young lady of the press here, wants to talk to the hero,” Tate announced.

Aw, no.

Tony nudged him. “That would be you.”

“I don’t want to talk to a reporter,” he whispered. But it was too late. The reporter rushed up to him, eyes wide. “Are you the fireman who dragged Kat and Samantha Holiday from a burning building?”

“Lieutenant Murphy McCrae is the one you should talk to,” Ethan said, drying his hands on a dish towel. “He was in charge of the search-and-rescue.”

“But you did rush into a burning building and carry out an unconscious woman and her child?”

“A lot of us were in that building.”

“But you did the rescuing?” she persisted.

“Look, I’m just a rookie. I was doing my job. You’ll have to talk to my captain if you want to do an interview. It’s policy,” he said apologetically.

“Aw, don’t go all modest on us now,” Tate said. “You’re the hero, the man of the hour. His first fire, and he turns into Superman.” Ethan might have taken it in the same vein as the earlier teasing—as good-natured ribbing. But there was nothing good-natured in the tone of Tate’s voice.

“It was your first fire ever?” the woman asked, shoving the tape recorder in his face. She was oblivious to the undercurrents.

“Look, why don’t you talk to the captain?” Ethan suggested again. “I can take you to his office.”

“Ethan just started two weeks ago,” Bing said. “That’s Ethan Basque. E-T-H—”

Fortunately, just then the alarm sounded.

“Excuse us,” Ethan said brusquely, hoping the reporter would be gone when he got back from his run. Firefighters weren’t allowed to talk to the press without prior approval. Bing knew that, and he’d deliberately tried to get Ethan in trouble.

That day, Tate was on paramedic duty, while Tony rode the truck with Ethan. It wasn’t ideal, two rookies in the same unit. But no amount of shuffling personnel prevented it from happening sometimes.

As the engine and truck rolled out, details of the emergency filtered in. A young child had dialed 9-1-1, reporting that his mother had fallen and something was burning. Potentially, a disaster. When they arrived at the small house, at the end of a row of abandoned houses in a blighted neighborhood, they found three tearful children standing in the front yard of a humble frame house. One of them pointed to the house and rattled off rapid Spanish.

Everyone looked at Tony. Most of them understood some Spanish, including Ethan. But not when it was spoken that quickly. Tony, however, was fluent.

“He says his mother’s inside and she fell,” Tony translated.

Four firefighters tried to get through the front door at the same time. Inside, the house was smoky, and the source was quickly found—a pot on the stove. McCrae stepped forward matter-of-factly and put it out with an extinguisher.

Tony and Ethan located the woman—lying on the floor, nine months pregnant if she was a day, screaming incoherently.

They knelt down beside her and Tony conversed with her for a bit, calming her as he did. Ethan couldn’t understand the words, but he recognized what was going on. The woman was in hard labor.

Tate and his partner, Kevin Sinclair, were right behind Tony and Ethan with the gurney. Tony stood aside.

“What’s she saying?” Ethan asked.

“She says she’s having the baby. Like, right this second.”

And sure enough, she was. Before they could even transfer her to the stretcher, the baby crowned.

“Oh, boy,” said Tate. “It’s gonna be one of those days.” And with eight firefighters gaping, the woman swiftly gave birth.

Ethan, shocked at how fast it happened, had to hand it to Tate, who handled the situation well. “You rookies pay attention,” McCrae said with a laugh. “You’ll have to do this soon enough.”

Ethan had never seen a baby being born before. It was awe-inspiring. He thought about how it would be when he had a wife and they had kids. Not if, but when. He’d always known he would get married and have kids someday. The prospect hadn’t ever felt so terrifying. It would be awful watching someone he loved in that much pain, unable to help.

The ambulance took off, with mother and baby apparently fine. Ladder truck 59 stayed behind with the children until a couple of police cruisers were able to pick them up and figure out where they ought to go.

The oldest of the children, a little girl, latched onto Ethan for some reason. “Is my mama okay?” she asked.

“Sure, she’s great,” Ethan replied, hoping it was true. “And she’s gonna bring home a new baby brother.”

“Phooey, I wanted a sister. All I got’s brothers.” And she stomped off.

Tony, who’d been listening to the exchange, laughed. “Ever the charmer, Basque.”

“Yeah, I’m batting a thousand with the little ones.”

“Speaking of which, how’re things going with Kat—really? And who paid for the pizza?”

“We didn’t have pizza. She had to pick up Samantha, which meant I had to get lost.”

“The kid really doesn’t like you?”

“Looks that way.”

“Well, at least they’re living in your backyard. She’ll get used to you.”

“I don’t know. This situation is just temporary, until Kat can get back on her feet and find a better place.”

“So make sure her apartment is so nice, she can’t find a better place. Put in the new kitchen. Paint, wallpaper, install new curtains—do it all.”

Ethan had been planning to fix up the apartment anyway, but not all at once. Still, Tony had a point. The nicer he made Kat’s living space, the less likely it was that she would want to leave.

And it wasn’t just his attraction to Kat that made him want to keep her there. He liked the idea of being able to watch over the two of them. They seemed so alone in the world. Yeah, there was an ex-husband, but where was he when Kat and Sam had been in the hospital?

Ethan understood how hard it was for a single mom. His mother had lost her husband to cancer when Ethan had been just a baby, and she’d never remarried. She’d had little education and no particular job skills, but she’d worked her way up at a soft-drink bottling facility, leaving him with her parents and taking the night shift so she could be home for Ethan during the day. They’d lived in a shabby little neighborhood near an industrial park, but she’d kept their two-bedroom house neat and clean as a church.

Though she was now a senior manager and could afford to live somewhere else, she wouldn’t have dreamed of moving. She was the one constant in that shifting community, the one everyone went to for help and advice.

Gloria Basque would approve of Ethan’s determination to help Kat and her daughter.

* * *

“DO I HAVE TO GO to school?” Samantha asked the following morning, as Kat braided Sam’s hair into two long pigtails. “I want to stay with you.”

“You know how important school is,” Kat explained for the third time. She believed, and Virginia had agreed, that it was important to return Samantha to her regular routine as soon as possible. “And I have to work.”

“I could go to the office with you.”

“Oh, Samantha. I wish you could. But you already missed one day and you don’t want to get behind, do you?”

She sighed. “No. But I think you love the StrongGirls more than me.”

“You know that’s not true,” Kat said. “I love you more than anyone in the world. We’ll do something special together tonight, just us girls.”

“Can we get our nails done?” Samantha asked hopefully. A few months earlier, Kat had treated herself to a manicure, and the manicurist had painted Sam’s nails, too. Sam had enjoyed the attention.

Manicures weren’t really in the budget right now. But maybe Kat could buy some nail polish and they could play beauty shop and do their own nails. “I’ll see what I can work out. But right now, we need to hustle if we don’t want to be late.”

“But I don’t want to go to school.”

Back at square one. “Sweetie, sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. That’s just part of life.”

“But what if our house burns down while I’m gone?”

Aha. At last Samantha had gotten to what was really bothering her.

“Honey, that isn’t very likely.” She didn’t want to say it was impossible, because it wasn’t. “No one around here is going to leave a cigar burning.”

“But what if the school burns down?”

Kat hugged her daughter close. “Sam, I know you’re scared. But the school has fire alarms and sprinklers and, and…” She couldn’t think of anything else. “Can you try not to worry?” She knew that no matter how reassuring she was, Samantha would find something else to worry about.

“I’ll try.” She grew quiet, staring out the window with that pinched expression that had become habitual since the fire. Finally, she spoke again. “Mommy, what did you mean about the safety ’spection?”

“The— Oh. You mean what I said to Mr. Basque yesterday?”

She nodded.

“Mr. Basque said he would help us do a safety inspection,” Kat said carefully, gauging Samantha’s reaction. “He’s an expert. He’ll help us make our new apartment safe, so we don’t have to worry.”

Samantha looked horrified. “I don’t want him to come over.”

“Sam, I don’t understand,” Kat said, with as much patience as she could muster. “Mr. Basque has been very nice to you. He saved your life. He took care of Bashira, even gave him a bath.”

“I don’t care.”

“He let you play with his puppy—and you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun, because I saw you smiling.”

Samantha didn’t argue that one, because she knew she’d lose.

Ethan had made Kat smile, too, despite the tears that had been so close to the surface. It was something to do with those brown eyes. He had a tough-looking hard-angled face, not classically handsome but interesting. His nose looked as if it might have been broken once. But those tender, compassionate eyes, such a marked contrast to the rest of him, drew her in and made her feel as if everything would be okay.

She sensed he understood her in a way few others did. Which didn’t make a lot of sense, because he didn’t know her well, didn’t know anything of her harsh upbringing or the fears she harbored for her daughter, growing up in such uncertain times. He knew nothing of the guilt she felt for working such long hours, leaving Samantha in the care of after-school babysitters and neighbors far too often. She could have worked at a more traditional job that would have left her more family time and earned her a higher salary.

But StrongGirls was an investment in the future of all girls, including Samantha. If Kat had her way, by the time Samantha was a teenager, the StrongGirl program would be available to every teen girl in the country. It was also an investment in their personal future. As the program grew, Kat would be able to pay herself a better salary.

“I still don’t want that man at our house,” Samantha said, startling Kat out of her reverie. She’d thought this argument had run its course.

“Can you explain why?” Kat asked.

Sam shrugged, making Kat almost wild with frustration.

“All right, I won’t invite him over,” Kat said, feeling an out-of-proportion sense of loss. She felt a strong connection with Ethan. She’d even started to believe that they could grow the connection. She hadn’t been attracted to a man like this in, well, maybe never. Not even with Chuck. She’d never felt the body-melting attraction to him that Ethan already ignited in her. And since the divorce, she’d been too preoccupied with adjusting to single parenthood and launching the StrongGirls to even think about men.

But, really, a lack of time was just an excuse. She didn’t have to deny herself male companionship forever. Ethan could be the one to draw her back into the land of dating and relationships. Still, it was never going to work if her potential boyfriend and her daughter couldn’t be together in the same room.

* * *

ETHAN DECIDED to take Tony’s advice to heart. He would do as much as he could to fix up the apartment, so Kat wouldn’t be in a hurry to move out.

He waited until Kat and Sam left, and then he went to work. He hadn’t asked Kat about entering her apartment, but he didn’t think she’d mind since he was making legitimate improvements in his role as her landlord.

Tony was busy taking his test, but Ethan managed to recruit Priscilla to help. He opened the door and let her into the apartment ahead of him.

She gave a low whistle. “Man, this place is about as inviting as a prison cell.”

No kidding. Kat still had only two pieces of furniture and a lamp in the main room. There were no pictures on the walls, no curtains, no books, no TV, no knickknacks. The bedroom was slightly more inviting, with colorful butterfly sheets on the bed and a pink beanbag chair in the corner. But the bed was resting on the floor; Samantha’s toys were piled in a corner and her clothes were folded in cardboard boxes. She needed a toy box. Shelves. A dresser.

Then there were the dingy white walls, peeling trim and bare lightbulbs, which only looked worse now that the place had been so scantily furnished.

Kat had said she would get around to furnishing the apartment, but somehow, Ethan doubted she had the resources.

“We can get a lot done in a day,” he said. “You know what my mom used to do? When someone new moved onto our block, she would organize a housewarming party. All the neighbors would get together, and they’d paint and fix things up. If the new people needed something like a crib or a high chair, someone always had an extra one.”

Priscilla seemed fascinated. “That’s cool. Something I never had growing up was a sense of community. We all drove into our attached garages and retreated to our yards behind our privacy fences. I knew a couple of neighbors, but that was it.”

“You’ll get community here. We have block parties, tree-planting parties, neighborhood yard sales.”

“So let’s do that for Kat and Samantha,” Priscilla said, catching Ethan’s enthusiasm. “We could call some of the guys from the station—they’re always willing to lend a hand. Although…” She reconsidered. “You think they’d help us? They barely talk to us.”

“We can try. It would be great if we could get it all done by the time Kat and Sam get home.”

Ethan had hoped he could count on at least a couple of the guys to pitch in—for a struggling single mom and her kid, if not for him. But he was surprised by the response. By noon, he had four off-duty firefighters, two of their wives, the neighbor from across the street and his mother committed to the While You Were Out–style makeover.

“Oh, this is pitiful,” his mother said, when she saw the barren apartment. “But, no matter. We can whip it into shape.”

“That’s why I called you, Mom. You’re the general.”

That she was. At four foot eleven and a hundred pounds, with short blond hair and bright pink lipstick, she still had more innate authority than anyone else. She divided the duties and assigned chores, and 250-pound firefighters were jumping to please her.

Tony joined them when he got home after taking his test. He brought a couple of pizzas, just in case anyone needed incentive to see the project through. “Mrs. B!” He folded Ethan’s mom in a bear hug.

“Careful, hon. You’ll get paint on you.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Put me to work.”

In addition to providing helping hands, the volunteers had brought furniture, paint, small appliances and a TV—all perfectly good stuff that wasn’t being used. Ethan went to Lowe’s and bought a new stove and fridge, which he’d intended to do anyway.

This little apartment was going to look ready for a magazine spread, by the time he was done. He couldn’t wait to see Kat’s reaction.

* * *

KAT’S FINAL MEETING of the day was a group counseling session with the Sunset High StrongGirls. She worked through the schools, which were only too happy to refer their “problem girls” to her and give her a place to meet.

This was her original StrongGirls group, and she would always have a special place in her heart for them.

The five girls and Kat met in the cafeteria, rather than in a classroom, so they could sit around a table informally. Kat usually bought them juice or milk from the vending machine and passed out granola bars. For some of them, it was the only healthy food they got all day. Yeah, it was charity, in a way. But they were still kids, and they couldn’t learn and grow to be independent if they didn’t have any fuel for their brains.

The girls greeted her excitedly. “Look, Ms. Kat, look what Tati has!” The speaker was Gwen, a tall, thin African-American girl with an amateur gang tattoo on her arm. She’d broken up with her drug-dealing boyfriend, at last, and was gradually pulling away from the gang herself.

Tati was Tatiana, a fifteen-year-old Hispanic girl with a shoplifting conviction. She’d come into the program with basement-level self-esteem, but gradually she was coming to realize she was pretty, smart and funny.

“What does Tati have?” Kat asked, trying to sound excited and expectant, rather than wary. The girls continually surprised her. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes not so good.

Today’s surprise was a boy’s class ring, heavily taped so it would fit on Tati’s middle finger.

“Nice,” Kat said as she passed out the granola bars.

“He wants to marry me,” Tati said in a dreamy voice.

Kat cringed inwardly. Where did she begin cataloging the horrors of this situation? Tati was way too young to be talking about marriage. She was only a freshman, and the chances of her staying in school if she got married and started having babies were slim to none.

“Well, this provides a perfect entré into the subject I wanted to talk about today,” Kat said briskly. “Independence.”

Now she had their attention. She had ninety minutes in which to convince Tati she had more to offer the world than just settling down and birthing babies.

“Ms. Kat,” Gwen said suddenly in a whisper. Her gaze darted toward the cafeteria door. “Who’s that?”

Kat was surprised to see a tall good-looking silver-haired man standing in the doorway, watching silently.

“Oh, that’s the same man that talked to me at the bus stop,” said Stephie.

“Talked to you?”

“Yeah. He was asking me all about the StrongGirls.”

“Really.” Was he a parent with a problem teen? A reporter? A school official checking up on her?

She stood up, intending to talk to him and find out what he was all about. But he disappeared, and when she looked outside there was no sign of him.

Just as a precaution, she warned the girls about talking to strangers, and they laughed at her. “You think I couldn’t take down some scrawny, old white guy?” Gwen scoffed.

“Yeah, well, just the same. Y’all be careful.”

By the time the session ended, she felt as if she’d made some progress with Tati and the other girls.

“You have a boyfriend, Ms. Kat?” Tati asked.

“No, not right now.” The image of Ethan floated into her imagination, along with memories of their bone-melting kiss.

“Then how do you know so much?” Gwen asked.

That was a good question. Virginia had pointed out, more than once, that if Kat wanted to be a good relationship counselor, she needed to experience some relationships. One highly flawed marriage and some teenage dating didn’t cut it.

“I was once a teenager,” Kat quipped. “I did a lot of things wrong and I learned from my mistakes, so you don’t have to.”

“Give us the gory details,” Stephie said, leaning forward eagerly. “So we’ll know exactly what not to do.”

Kat laughed as she gathered up her materials. “I’ll save that for another day.” She hugged each of the girls in turn, a weekly ritual. Some had resisted at first, but now they all hugged back. If she did nothing else, she could at least do this.

As she drove to Samantha’s after-school care, which was right across the street from her elementary school, she wondered if she should jump back into the dating pool—not just for the benefit of the StrongGirls, but for her own sake. She wasn’t afraid of being without a man. But was there any reason to be alone when she didn’t have to be? Pretending she didn’t have time was a cop-out. She could manage to make time for things that were important. It was all a matter of priorities.

She thought of Ethan again. Then she remembered Samantha’s feelings about their rescuer and her train of thought screeched to a halt. She still hadn’t told Samantha that Ethan was their landlord, living just across the yard from them. She couldn’t imagine what Sam would have to say if Kat announced she was dating Ethan.