Free Hot for Fireman by Jennifer Bernard

Bridget’s bright yellow Miata, were parked out front.
    As soon as they all extracted themselves from her car, her father opened his arms wide.
    “I still need my Katie-hug!” She flew into them and buried her face against his burly chest. His familiar smell, bourbon overlaid with minty Nicorette gum, wrapped around her like a favorite quilt. Tears pricked her eyes and a wave of gratitude made her squeeze him tight. Thank God he was okay.
    Her mother’s hug was more briskly affectionate. Katie had always been a daddy’s girl, and everyone knew it.
    Her parents hurried inside, while Katie lagged behind dragging their suitcases. A chorus of shrieks and hugs and “Welcome homes” rang from the living room.
    “Here, lemme help.” Doug greeted her at the door, holding out his nonbandaged arm. She suffered the usual pang of irritated guilt at the sight of his morose expression. He had shoulder-length, tangled hair and a fallen-angel face that used to make her swoon. Now it just made her sad. They’d met when they’d both joined a wannabe rock group that called themselves the Losers. He’d played bass, she’d played drums, and they’d started hanging out every possible moment when not practicing in their friend’s garage.
    “What are you doing here?” She let him take one of the suitcases.
    “You know how Bridget is. Won’t take a no.”
    No sense in wondering why Bridget had interfered. A noninterfering Bridget would be like a fish without gills. Katie made her way into the crowded house, wincing at the din. Not only were the Danes loud, so were most of their friends.
    A big hand-drawn banner hung in the living room. “Welcome Back to Los Estados Unidos,” it read. With her usual efficiency, Bridget had finished hugging their parents and was passing around a tray of red drinks with paper umbrellas in them.
    Katie and Doug dragged the suitcases into her parents’ room. She sighed. How many ex-boyfriends felt this comfortable in their ex’s parents’ home?
    “How’s the arm?” she asked as they made their way back to the party.
    “My dad says I should sue.”
    “What? Sue who?”
    “I don’t know. Someone. It happened on the premises of the Hair of the Dog.” He gave her a sidelong look past a stray lock of mussed hair.
    A shaft of fear tightened her stomach. If Doug’s father sued them, they didn’t stand a chance. He was a high-powered attorney who lived for revenge.
    “So you might want to be nicer to me,” continued Doug with a smirk.
    “Excuse me?”
    But she didn’t get a chance to continue. Bridget appeared before them like a vision of Snow White, all shining blue eyes and glossy black hair. Katie always felt like Grumpy the dwarf in her presence. “Surprised?”
    “Kinda, since you said you were too busy to pick them up.” She took the drink Bridget offered. Doug wandered away, mumbling something about taking a pill. Katie knew he was probably going out back for a smoke.
    “This is why I was busy, crabby. You know they love surprises.”
    “And you know that Doug and I broke up.”
    “So? He’s a friend of the family. It wouldn’t be the same without him. Now try for once to enjoy the occasion.” Bridget lifted a finger to the corner of Katie’s mouth, but Katie dodged it. She hated when Bridget tried to make her smile. “Besides, Gidget, Dougie’s doing so much better.”
    Katie hated her nickname even more than being forced to smile, but Bridget had a point. Three years ago, Doug had been hospitalized for clinical depression—right when she’d finally screwed up her courage to break up with him. The breakup had gone into slow motion after that. What was the correct way to dump someone who might go off his meds? She was still trying to figure that one out. But at least they’d phased into friends-slash-coworkers.
    “I will do my utmost not to jeopardize Doug’s recovery.”
    “And enjoy yourself.”
    “That’s pushing it. I don’t want to give him false hope.”
    To