Fire and Ash

Fire and Ash

WHOOMP!

Something cut through my usual early morning deep sleep. I struggled awake, fumbling on the night stand for my glasses, trying to focus barely open eyes, trying to make sense of the odd light against the window. Only then did I hear the shouting and the crackling.

I got up, put a robe on even as I pushed back the drapes; the house across the street was afire.

I rushed to my front door and out on the porch. The house was completely engulfed and a fire truck was just coming up the street. Several of the neighbors stood in the street; Gary Miller was spraying his house with a hose and shouting something -- I don't know what, and Ashley Ward was standing on my lawn, watching her house collapse in on itself. The only thing left to the firemen was dousing the remaining flames and embers.

I called Ashley to my porch; she was in complete shock; ashen, shaking, clutching herself. She was in a robe and slippers; pajama legs showing below the robe. Her eyes were wide and her lips apart, as if to say something, but nothing came out.

A fireman asked if she was the homeowner and all she could do was nod. When he asked her name, Ashley just whispered a reply. He told her someone would be talking to her in a bit. I told him she'd be in my house.

I took her in and started a pot of coffee. As we waited I asked what had happened.

"I don't really know. The smoke alarm woke me ... what a god-awful noise ... there was smoke everywhere ... I just grabbed my robe and slippers ... didn't even put them on until I was outside ... the heat , the heat was bad, so I came across the street ... Mack, my house is gone. Everything I own ... even my purse, car keys ... clothes." She hung her head for a moment; "What am I going to do?"

"For the moment, sit here and catch your breath. Have some coffee and I'll make us some eggs and toast; it's almost time for me to get up any way. You can stay here until your insurance company makes other arrangements, I'm sure they'll get right on it. Do you know who they are? We can call them now and get the process going."

"All of that is in my purse."

I studied her while I made breakfast. Oh, I'd seen her around the neighborhood, talked with her and her husband on occasion, but now in the morning light I had the time to really see her. Even disheveled and without makeup, you could see she was a handsome woman - not what some would call beautiful - but the sort that you were drawn to just the same. She looked to be in her forties, early probably. She had a lightly tanned face with a scattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks and small wrinkles at the corners of her lips. Brown hair with touches of red and a few gray ones mixed in over the top framed her face. When she looked up (and caught me looking) she gave me a slight smile, and little lines showed next to her gray eyes.

The doorbell rang as we were eating. A Fire Lieutenant asked if Ms. Ward was here, and I showed him to the kitchen and offered a cup of coffee, but he declined and just got to the business with Ashley.

Basically he wanted to know what happened - what she knew, what woke her.

She answered quietly but quickly and when they finished he asked if she had any questions.

"Just a couple: what do I do now? And my purse ... is there any chance we can find my purse?"

"Well ma'am, you'll have to find somewhere to stay, and of course notify your insurance carrier, as to your purse, what is it made of, and where would it be?"

"It's a leather bag, about twelve by eighteen inches. I left it on the vanity in my bedroom."

"I'll have someone look around. Where would your bedroom be in the house?"

"Left rear. There's a bathroom next to it."

Half an hour later a fireman was at the door with a very dirty looking handbag.

I spread newspaper on the table, and she put it down. Remarkably (or maybe not - it was leather) the contents were in good shape. A little water had gotten on a few things, but her wallet was undamaged - hell, even her phone worked.

She called the insurance company and they said they'd send out an adjuster later in the day and asked where she would be. She looked up at me, asking; "Where will I be when they come to the house?"

"Tell them you'll be here. It'll be easier to find you."

The next order of business was clothes - she didn't have anything but what she was wearing. I studied her again and then offered; "Well, my clothes won't fit you, but maybe we can find something to at least get you to a store. That is if you want to; maybe there's someone you would rather call. By the way, what about your husband? Is he away? Shouldn't you be calling him?"

"Jim? No, I won't be calling him. We divorced last year. I thought everyone around here knew that."

"Not me, but then I'm not part of the gossip circuit. Can I ask what happened?"

"Basically, he lost his job." She sighed and then added; "Truth be told - he lost his job because he was having an affair with one of the women in his office. Who just happened to be the boss's girlfriend. The boss kept the tramp and fired Jim. When I found out I kicked him out and filed. He didn't contest it and now he's in Dallas. I hope for his sake he keeps his zipper shut because he's getting too old to be fired again."

"What about you? What have you been doing since the divorce?"

"Just working at the VA. It's great therapy when you can throw yourself into helping others. You tend to forget your own problems - at least for a while. Which reminds me - I need to call in - tell them I'll be out for a couple days while I get this all sorted. I have plenty of personal time coming."

"Where do you work?"

"VA-I'm a counselor out there. Mostly I let the vets talk, but if there is something they need I help them contact the right people."

"Sounds important."

"I don't know about that, but every once in a while it feels like I made a difference for one of those guys. Then again-other days I feel like I did nothing at all."

We went to my closet and she found some jeans and a flannel shirt. I went back to the kitchen while she changed, and had just about finished the dishes when I heard an "Ahum!' behind me. She was standing in the doorway, one hand up on the jamb, the other on her hip in an exaggerated model's pose. "Well, do you think this will work?"

"I have to admit; I never looked so good in that shirt."

"Thank you sir. Compliments are always welcome. Even if they do stretch the truth a bit."

"I'm not the one stretching anything ..." Yeah ... at that point my brain went into dumb, and I couldn't think of anything to say. Well I did - but my tongue wouldn't work. Maybe she didn't have the waist I had, but her hips were stretching those pants pretty good. I turned back and poured another cup of coffee.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?

"I told you I was old. Not as quick with the repartee as I once was."

"Well you may have some gray hair, but you saved me this morning. If you hadn't brought me in ... I might still be standing on the lawn."

"Nonsense! I'm sure any of the other neighbors would have helped."

"Not the married ones. The women are leery of having a divorcee near their husbands, and the men are scared of being seen alone with me."

"That's almost funny. When I had my divorce, the women kept trying to match me up with their single friends. And the men kept telling me the truth about them. You'll notice after a while they stopped trying."

"Why did you break up?"

"Well ..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. We're just talking to pass the time."

"It's kind of hard for me to say. Not because I don't want to talk about it, but I still don't understand all of it. Things were going along pretty good, I thought, and one day she says she's not happy and want's a divorce."

"How long had you been married?"

"Over twenty two years. She said she felt there was more for her than being married to me. I thought she was happy. Shows how much I know. I guess the signs were there for quite a while and I wasn't paying attention. She wanted me to move out, but I fought that - I'd been buying the house when I met her, and there was no way I'd give it up without a fight. We didn't have any kids, and the judge agreed with me. I did have to pay alimony for five years, but after that we were done."

"What happened to her?"

"Damned if I know or care. I'd send the checks to a post office box in San Francisco, never hear a word, just see they'd been cashed."

"What about you? What did you do?"

"Went to work, came home, mowed the lawn, worked on my truck. Rinse, repeat."

"That's it? You didn't wonder why?"

"Sure. But to understand something you need information, and I didn't have enough. I'd puzzle on it while I was mowing or wrenching, but after a year or so I gave up. While we were married she'd talk about wanting to paint or dance or other things. Since we didn't have kids, and I made good money, I paid for any classes she wanted. She'd go for a while - jazz dance lasted three weeks - then go to something else. She took up cooking - chef stuff - that lasted almost a year, and then one day she just quit. Meals at home never changed, same thing before, during and after."

We sat quietly for a while, just sipping our coffee. Every now and then I'd catch her studying me, but she wouldn't drop her eyes - just kept looking at me. It wasn't eerie or anything, she'd just look at me. Like she was studying my soul.

The knock on the door broke the mood, and when I answered the Lieutenant asked me to pass on that they were wrapping up. One truck would stay - watching for hot spots - but basically they were done.

We watched them drive away, leaving a pile of blackened wood and ash. A small spiral of smoke (or maybe steam) rose from one corner of the mess. A fireman pawed at it with an axe and then sprayed water. Her car sat safely in its garage, but the driveway was blocked.

I was surprised looking at my watch - it was nearly ten! I'd pulled her into my house before six.

"Do you want to wait for the adjuster or go get some clothes?"

"Clothes; the adjuster will call."

*****

Two hours at the mall and we'd just started shopping. She had me tagging along, giving an opinion on blouses or slacks, voting up or down on a few dresses, carrying packages as we went. By one I was hurting for lunch and finally convinced her even pack mules were fed.

Lunch was a cheerful time - she'd been able to forget about her house, and the clothes helped her mood, but oddly even with new jeans and a blouse she still wore my flannel shirt. It did look good on her.

While we ate I began noticing little things about her; the shape of an ear, a little wisp of blonde fuzz on her upper lip. This time when she caught me studying her I didn't look down. A little smile tickled her lips and eyes. "So tell me ... does 'Mack' stand for anything, or is it just a nick-name?"

"My father had a strange sense of humor; the Donald name goes back a long way, but there is also a branch of the family -- the McFarlands -- that he was close to some of the uncles and cousins. One uncle in particular -- Donald McFarland helped him get started in business, so he reversed the names. I met my namesake only a few times before he died and all I remember was a big man with red hair."

********

After lunch it was shoes and after that she parked me on a bench while she went into the lingerie shop. Probably for the best ... I'd never been in one before and I didn't see me starting now.

She had a big smile coming out; "Miss me? Let's go home, the adjuster called and she'll be there in an hour."

*****

The adjuster was a nice woman -probably in her late twenties or early thirties, professional in dress and manner. She introduced herself and got right down to business.

I sat back - hey, I was just a bystander. She had all the necessary information in her computer, and with a series of questions that didn't take fifteen minutes had everything lined up.

"First, Ms. Ward, I've arranged fencing for your property. We don't want anyone pawing through the rubble for a couple reasons; they may take something of yours, and ... we'll want to investigate the fire's origins."

"The origins?"

"Yes, if we can we'd like to determine how it started. Each fire has signatures, and if we can read it, maybe we'll learn how to prevent a similar one."

"Oh."

As they wrapped up the adjuster asked if Ashley had any questions. "My car. When will I be able to get it out of the garage?"

"Hmm, I did overlook that. Can you wait 'til we've finished our investigation? After that we'll have a crew coming in to clean up the site, maybe a week in all. We'll pay for a rental car in the meantime. By the way ... did you have to buy clothes today? Keep your receipts - that's a reimbursable expense. Oh, and an apartment while your house is rebuilt

That's when I finally piped up: "How long will you pay for an apartment? A year? What if it takes longer?"

"Actually, we normally anticipate a rebuild taking six to nine months, after that any expenses are Ms. Ward's."

*****

"Mack, I really appreciate your help, but I guess I should find some place to live."

"Humph! Look, why don't you set up in my spare bedroom for a few days? That'll give you a chance to check out rentals in the area without feeling rushed. Then when your car is available you can look around."

"Thanks, but I still have to get to work and I don't want to be a bother."

"No bother. It's been nice having you around today."

"Two compliments in one day? Are you sure I'd be safe here?"

I guess I kinda puffed up on that one; "Mrs. Ward. I can assure you; you will be perfectly safe here!

"Whoa, Mack. I was teasing. Thank you. I accept your generous offer, and I do feel safe with you."

*****

Now I gotta tell you a couple things. First my divorce; I didn't tell Ashley everything. My wife and I grew distant over the last ten years or so. If she wanted a class, I didn't care. It kept her out of my hair. We didn't argue or anything like that - we just didn't care about each other anymore. We were just roommates. When we split she went to San Francisco and I heard she got a job in a restaurant as some kind of cook or something, after that I don't know what happened and never really cared.

Second thing I gotta tell you; the first night Ashley stayed in my house I woke up with a hardon. First one I'd had in years. Damn near scared me. I thought the next thing I'd know I'd be jumpin' into bed with her, rapin' and shit like that.

Another thing I need to tell you; livin' alone you get kinda casual, if ya know what I mean. You know -- if that shirt wasn't too bad, hell, wear it tomorrow. I'd shave every few days, if had to. And ...aah ... the house wasn't the cleanest either. Like I said I got casual.

*****

Let's see ... the fire happened on Tuesday, and Ashley stayed home Wednesday while she got a rental car. Then she went shopping again - makeup and stuff. (It's a good thing I have two bathrooms in the house - I'd have never been able to use it if I only had one.) Thursday and Friday she went to work, so the mornings were kinda hectic while she readied herself for work, I'd spend the day cleaning house, visiting with friends, or working in the garage.

Evenings were a total change for me. She'd come in about six thirty or so, dead tired, and just collapse into a chair or on the sofa with her feet propped up. I couldn't help noticing the shape of her legs, and she couldn't help noticing me. Friday I sat on the couch and massaged her feet.

Something I hadn't done for a woman in almost twenty years.

"Mmm, if you keep that up two things will happen; I'll melt into the couch, and I'll never leave."

"Well, I don't want you melting so maybe I should stop."

"Don't you dare! That feels too good ... Mack, I haven't been treated this good in a long time. Please, just a little more. Please?"

How are you going to resist a beautiful woman that bats her eyes and says 'please'? Yeah, I massaged, she purred, and we quietly looked into each other's eyes.

When we finally had it, dinner was a subdued affair; I'd always thought of myself as a decent cook and having Ashley in the house gave me incentive to extend myself like I hadn't in years, so we had grilled salmon, rice pilaf and a salad, with a pinot noir. (Yeah I know what a pinot is - I may have lived alone, but I wasn't skimping.) She'd changed from a business suit to a short and swirly sundress and her hair had gone from up and tight to down and flowing. Oh, and she'd refreshed her makeup as well.

Now, I've been living alone a long time, and the first night she'd had dinner with me, I hadn't changed clothes, or shaved for that matter. But the next night, and every evening after that, I made sure to have clean clothes on and be freshly shaved. Hell, I even held her chair for her.

I asked how her day went, but she just dismissed it as; "You know, the same old same old. I'll tell you about it tomorrow if you want, but let's just enjoy tonight."

*****

After we'd cleared the table, I put on the TV and found an old John Wayne movie. The next thing I knew a soft voice was saying;"Come on Mack, time for bed."

*****

Saturday morning I woke to the smell of coffee, and soft music coming from the kitchen. She was standing at the stove, her back to me. Auburn hair shining in the sun and spilling to her shoulders. She wore a light colored t-shirt over shorts. Her legs looked a mile and a half long.

I must have made a noise (probably my heart thumping) because she turned and looked at me -- a smile from ear to ear. "Good morning. It's almost eight, coffee's been ready for an hour, and if you'll have a seat I'll make us some eggs and toast. How did you sleep? I heard you mumbling to yourself in the night."

"What was I saying?"

"Oh, I don't know, it wasn't real clear, and I didn't get up. After all what you dream is private, isn't it?"

I vaguely recalled the dream. I wasn't about to tell her she starred in it. "I must have been reliving that movie from last night ..."

She gave me the strangest look, and then just said; "Yes, that must have been it."

*****

That was the fastest weekend I've ever experienced. It seemed like one second it was Saturday morning and the next it was Sunday night. But in between, Ashley and I spent a lot of time together. She insisted on helping me in the yard; while I mowed, she weeded flower beds I'd been meaning to get to. And she wasn't some neat freak that was afraid of dirt -- within fifteen minutes her shirt was showing sweat marks and there were dirt streaks on her arms and legs. Then she wiped her face. Yep, more streaks.

I offered a damp towel to her, but she asked that I do it for her. It's really hard to get all the dirt off when all you're doing is looking into eyes. Her hand softly touched mine as I focused on cleaning her face, and I barely heard the whispered; "Thank you."

*****

The next few weeks slipped into a routine: she'd go to work and I stayed home. But I put a lot more time cleaning than I was used to. We spent evenings walking the neighborhood, gardening, sometimes just sitting back and watching programs or listening to music.

She picked up her routine of stopping at a gym after work several times a week and I suddenly felt the need to tighten up a loose belly. The next thing I know I've dug the bike out of the garage. After washing it off, lubing the chain, and airing up the tires I was off -- putting in just a mile at first, but soon I'd extended myself to five miles. THAT led me to the weight set and a thirty minute routine on the evenings Ashley was at the gym. On weekends Ashley would run through the neighborhood and it wasn't long before I offered to ride along. The view from behind could be mesmerizing, but I thought I was being sly, only dropping back occasionally, but she caught me staring a little too obviously one day: "Mack, I don't mind you looking -- it makes me feel good -- but please, keep one eye on the road, you almost hit that lady." I had to admit I didn't remember another woman.