The Firefighter Who Rescues Me

Chapter 7 ♚ New People

When Friday evening arrived, I was the proud owner of the safety certs I needed to be able to work. Plus, I'd managed to acquire a secondhand cellphone with a brand new line that made it operable.

This called for a celebration, which was why I took myself to the supermarket to buy some junk food and beer to devour while enjoying Margaret's Netflix.

Calling it a supermarket was a stretch, though. The grocery store was small, with narrow aisles flanked by overflowing shelves. They really had to take advantage of the vertical space to fit anything. In glancing up and down to familiarize myself with the selection, I had to do a double take when I thought I saw something familiar. Except it wasn't a mirage, there really was harina PAN in a small town in the middle of Canada.

I grabbed a pack of it, almost reverent. Years of trawling for it at supermarkets and small shops in Edmonton had proved this so hard to find, that usually I just got it in the mail from Florida. How was it even here?

"Hi."

The little voice snapped me out of my trance. I glanced around and saw no one next to me. Then I glanced down and there he was, Luke.

I didn't know if to laugh or cry.

"Hey," I said back.

He turned around and hollered. "Mom! I found your friend!"

As if his voice was all her sense of direction needed, Lena Lee appeared in a matter of seconds carrying a loaded basket. She grinned upon seeing me. "That, you did. How are you doing, Cora?"

I decided to roll with the knowledge that she already considered me a friend. A week after meeting each other.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Pretty good, actually. Celebrating that the week is done."

"And how are you celebrating?" she asked, her eyes shining with a light that made me nervous.

Her son pointed at the basket hanging from my arm. "Buying food, it seems."

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

She ignored her son, though. "I have a better idea. Why don't you join us for the game tonight?"

I almost asked what game she was talking about, when I remembered that it had been all my coworkers had talked about the whole week. It didn't matter that we'd been painting, mounting cabinets, landscaping—all these grown-ass men could do was talk about the friendly game between the local high school hockey team and their historical rivals, with the expectation that the game be anything but friendly.

Well, as the old adage said, when in Rome do as the Romans. Netflix could wait until tomorrow.

I shrugged and said, "Why not?"

We agreed to meet in front of the arena in an hour, which allowed me plenty of time to finish my shopping and get back to Margaret's to shower and change into clothes that weren't sweaty or dusty.

As soon as I walked into my realtor's house, I found her in front of the hallway mirror checking her makeup. Her hair was done in cute, beachy waves, and she was decked in a nice black dress both understated and elegant.

I whistled.

"Dang, are you going on a date?" Another thought occurred to me then, so I asked, "Or is the date coming to you? Should I leave?"

Phew, good thing I had new plans.

Margaret's face flushed. "Oh, no. Don't worry. It's not a date, he's just a friend and we won't be in your way."

I narrowed my eyes at the effort she had put on getting ready for this non-date. As I put my groceries away in the cabinet that she'd cleared for me, I debated whether to ask the obvious but went for it anyway.