jaw, burying the unwanted responses. This would pass. It always did. It had to.
Running a hand down his face, Luis wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow. A check of his watch told him he should get out of the way here. Carlos and the other three men would need to start their daily medical and fire training as well as the extra duties required by the FAA since they were located at the airport. Luis wasn’t getting any sympathy over the unfairness of his current dilemma anyway.
“You know what? Forget I said anything,” he grumbled. “I don’t know why I thought you’d understand.”
Lifting his feet off the coffee table, Luis pushed up to a stand. The weight of frustration pressed down on him, squashing his anger, leaving him irritatingly tired. Tired of people telling him how to cope. Tired of hearing that he should seek professional help or he’d never move on.
He didn’t need to sit down with a grief counselor. Forget having another chat with the fire department’s chaplain. The best therapy for him involved pulling shifts at the station. Losing himself in the rhythm of the day-to-day required duties and responsibilities. Fueling his body with the occasional adrenaline rush.
Carlos should understand. The adrenaline was a big part of what drew them all to the job. That whoosh of pulse-jumping excitement when you pealed out of the station, ready to help someone in need.
“Oye, come on. Don’t leave all pissed off.” Carlos set the glass container on the table as he stood. “I’m just saying, maybe some time out on your boat will do the trick. A little sun, fresh ocean air, dropping a line in the water. Yeah, that’s it! Go catch some fresh fish for us.” Carlos’s lips spread in a silly grin, his straight teeth a white flash against his deeply tanned face.
Luis gave his brother the finger on his way through the eat-in kitchen, heading toward the front entrance. Carlos followed, their boot heels thumping on the linoleum floor.
The other firefighter waved at Luis but didn’t look away from the baseball game on the small TV mounted on the wall above the table.
“Take the Fired Up out past the reef on the Atlantic. Troll for some mahi and bring home dinner,” Carlos persisted.
“I hope you get indigestion from wolfing down Mami’s food so damn fast,” Luis said over his shoulder as he pushed open the main door. Hot, humid air blasted him in the face. Early May and already the intense summer sun beat down, threatening to bake tourists and locals alike.
“Bite your tongue,” Carlos complained.
“Bite me!”
His brother barked out a laugh and jabbed Luis on the shoulder with a sharp punch. “Ohh, that mouth of yours. What would Mami say if she knew her quiet, saintly son talked like that.”
“Whatever.” Luis dodged Carlos’s second jab and stepped onto the landing. His brother followed him outside, but while Luis continued to the top of the concrete stairs leading to the parking area below the fire station, Carlos stayed behind.
“Hey, I know this isn’t what you want!” he called out. “Pero . . .”
Halfway down the stairs, Luis paused. “But what?”
He turned to find Carlos still on the landing, one hand wedged between the frame and the door so it wouldn’t close all the way while allowing them a bit of privacy.
They squinted at each other for a few heavy seconds. Luis watched his older brother weighing his words. Carlos’s jaw muscles worked as he chewed on whatever advice he contemplated offering. Advice Luis probably wouldn’t want to take. His brother’s easy grin from moments ago had been wiped away by the serious expression now blanketing his face. He stared back at Luis with the same pursed-lips scowl he used when his young sons misbehaved in a way that might cause harm.
“But maybe it’s time you took a step back from helping everyone else and . . . and thought about helping yourself.”
Across the tiny parking lot, on the other side of the chain-link security fence separating the public area from the runway and tarmac, the prop plane that shuttled tourists to the Dry Tortugas for snorkeling trips cranked its engine. The loud, sputtering noise mimicked the discord pounding through Luis’s chest.
“There’s no need to. I’m fine,” he assured his brother. A refrain Luis had been repeating for years now. Whatever good it did. “I wish everyone else would get that through their heads.”
To Luis’s surprise, Carlos muttered an oath and moved to the