A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,81
as the man’s lips turned up in a tired smile.
The man, Harold, shifted his gaze from the pot—which Cale decided had a three-dimensional lizard on top—to his wife. Their eyes held each other’s, and even from where Cale was standing, he was touched by the pure love between the two. He hated to break their moment, especially after they’d had such a harrowing day, so he stood there in respectful silence. The man bent toward his wife and pressed a loving kiss to her lips. Once again, Cale was affected when the woman smiled up at Harold. After their day, for them to be able to smile said a boatload about them.
“This pot,” Bess said to Cale, her neck craned upward so she looked him in the eye, “has a history. Many years ago, when our marriage was young, we had an argument, as married folks sometimes do. In my upset, I knocked this pot off its shelf and it cracked into two pieces.” She held it up and pointed out the crack. Cale aimed his light at it.
“We’d bought it on our honeymoon in Santa Fe,” Harold said, picking up the story where his wife had left off, as if they were of a single mind.
“It’s from the Acoma Pueblo,” Bess explained.
“The night it broke, we went to bed without speaking. Both of us were pretty ticked off,” Harold continued. “When we got up the next morning, the first thing we did was apologize and glue this pot back together.”
“Neither one of us had slept worth a darn.” Bess was absently rubbing the side of the pot as they told the story. “That very day, we made a vow. We would never go to bed mad again.”
Harold nodded emphatically. “And we never have since.”
“Wow. That’s impressive,” Cale said, meaning it.
“God must’ve been watching over this pot the way he’s watched over our marriage for sixty-three years now.” Bess burrowed into her husband as he put his frail-looking arm around her. “We’re very blessed in spite of this....” Her eyes watered as she nodded toward the ruins of their house.
“It’s good that you have each other to get through the rough times,” Cale said sympathetically.
“You bet your buttons, sir,” Harold said. “Love isn’t always easy but it’s always worth it.” He kissed his wife’s temple. “Let’s take these items to our car. Thank goodness it was parked in the street.”
Cale handed the candy dish to Harold. “Do you two have a place lined up to stay tonight?”
“Our son, Bernie, is on his way from Austin. He insisted on coming and helping us take care of everything. We’ll get a hotel tonight and then stay with him until...”
“Until we have a place to go,” Harold said. “He’s a good kid.”
“Our sixty-two-year-old kid,” Bess added.
“Will he be here soon?” Cale asked. “We’ll be heading out in a few minutes and I hate to leave you two on the street by yourselves.”
“Should be here any minute, but thank you, son. You’re a good man.”
Bess handed the pot to her husband and stepped forward. “Thank you for all you do,” she said as she wrapped her arms around a flustered Cale.
As he always was when fire victims showed gratitude, Cale was humbled. Doubly so today, as they’d been unable to save these people’s home. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”
“It was the candle in the kitchen,” Bess said matter-of-factly. “We lit it after Harold burned some popcorn. We were trying to alleviate the smell and forgot about it. We think the curtains must have caught and spread.”
“Did you tell the chief that?” Cale asked.
“He took notes on the whole story,” Bess said. “There’s Bernie.” She forgot Cale was there as she tottered off the curb toward a white sedan parking just up the block.
“Thank you for these,” Harold said, lifting the three recovered pieces. “I better go. She’s got a bad hip and I like to keep an eye on her.”
“I wish you the best.” Cale watched the two greet their son. He met all kinds of people in his line of work, but he couldn’t remember ever being as struck as he was by this couple. They made him long for what they had between them.
* * *
HOURS LATER, the truck and equipment were cleaned and restocked. It was a strangely quiet night for the department. After showering, Cale had closed himself in his cramped bunk room and tried for an eternity and a half to catch some z’s.
Finally giving up, he pulled