Mexican chicken dish on the counter. After emptying the sack, she placed the pieces of chicken in water to cook. Then she went in search of her sons to see what kind of homework they had. When her mother didn’t go see her friend in Biloxi, she watched Jared and Kip after school until Kathleen got off work and could pick them up. And when her mother couldn’t watch her sons, Sally would fill in, no charge. That was a huge help to her because she couldn’t afford to pay childcare along with everything else to raise two growing boys.
“Mom, do you know where Jared and Kip are?” Kathleen asked when she entered the den where her mother was watching The Weather Channel.
She peered toward Kathleen. “I didn’t hear you come in. Been glued to the T.V. I’m charting the progress of Naomi even if it is going to miss us.”
Kathleen wasn’t surprised by that fact. Her mom had done that for years. She had a stack of charts of past hurricanes that had come into the Gulf. “I’m going to fix some Mexican chicken for us and take some to Gideon O’Brien down the street like I mentioned to you.”
“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that. He seems quite lonely to me.”
Before her mother had her fixed up on a date with Gideon, Kathleen asked, “Where are the boys? They need to get their homework done. After dinner they are useless. I can’t get much out of them then as far as schoolwork.”
“They said something about riding those old bikes I had in the garage. I told them they could but not to go farther than this block and not to ride in the streets.”
Kathleen glimpsed the time on the clock above the mantel. “It’s getting late. I’d better round them up and see where they stand with their homework.”
“We’ll need to pray for the people in Panama City.” Her mother listened to the reporter on the T.V. give the latest coordinates of the hurricane and jotted them down. “I’m sure you’ll see the boys if you go outside and look.”
That was assuming her sons obeyed their grandmother when she babysat them. Lately there was no guarantee they would. Kathleen made her way toward the front door. Outside on the lawn she looked to the left and saw no one. Then she peered toward the right and thought she saw a bike that was like the one she’d ridden as a child lying on the sidewalk three houses down where Gideon lived.
She remembered Kip’s questions the night before about the firefighter who had been hurt in the Magnolia Street Apartments fire. He had wanted to know if he would be all right. Who was he? Could he and Jared make get-well cards for him? She’d kissed her boys good-night and told them she would talk to them today when she got home from work.
She charged down the street. Knowing them, they had taken matters into their own hands without waiting to discuss it with her.
At Gideon’s one-story white house with a neat yard, she skirted around both of her mom’s old bikes and headed straight for the front door. After ringing the bell, she waited, trying to temper her anger that Kip and Jared would disturb a man recovering from some painful injuries.
Her older son opened the door. “Hey, Mom. Come in.”
“No, I think you all have stayed long enough. You and Jared need to come back to Nana’s. You’re both supposed to have your homework finished by dinner.” Haven’t we done enough to disrupt this man’s life?
“Aw, Mom, Gideon was telling us about some of the rescues he’s done.”
“Why are you answering his door?” She swung open the screen, the one standing between her and Kip.
“Gideon doesn’t move too fast. I told him I’d get it.”
Kathleen glanced over her son’s shoulder at the slow-moving firefighter making his way toward them with a small white dog with a curly tail. His stiff movements coupled with the sight of his cast only reinforced why the man was in the pain he was.
“Hello, Kathleen. Your sons came over to give me their get-well cards. I asked them to stay if it was okay with you. They assured me it was.” Gideon’s gaze swept from Kip to Jared, who had joined them in the foyer.
Her younger son poked his head around Gideon. “He has a cast just like me. Isn’t that neat? We’re twins.”
“And that is Butch. He’s so sweet,” Kip added, pointing to the dog near Gideon.
“It’s time for you two to come back to Nana’s and get your homework done.”
“Mooomm, can’t we stay for a while longer?” Kip’s mouth formed his classic pout that he had stood in front of the mirror one day to perfect.
“Another time, guys. This is a school night, and you’ve got work to do.” Gideon tousled Jared’s, then Kip’s hair.
Jared giggled then scooted out the front door.
But Kip remained where he was standing. “Will you tell us some more stories about being a firefighter?”
“Well, sure, anytime it’s all right with your mother.” Gideon flashed her a grin that melted any irritation she had toward her sons for bothering the man.
“Great. Call if you need us to do anything for you. After school we stay with Nana until Mom comes to pick us up.” Kip raced past Kathleen and stamped down the porch steps.
While her sons grabbed their bikes and rode them toward her mother’s house, Kathleen faced Gideon. “I know how tired you must be. Your body has gone through a trauma and needs rest, not my sons bothering you. I’m sorry—”
He held up his palm to still her words. “I enjoyed their visit. I was resting on the couch, getting more bored by the second when they came and rescued me from my boredom. I hope you’ll let them come again.”
She completely surrendered to the kindness in his eyes. Her legs grew weak, and she clutched the door frame to steady herself. “Only as long as they don’t pester you.” The pale cast to his skin spoke of the strain of standing. “Let me help you back to that couch.”
He shook his head. “As much as I’d like a pretty lady to hold me, I can make my own way there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Do you need to watch to make sure I don’t falter halfway there?”
She grinned. “I’ll take your word for it. Besides, I need to get home and make you a dinner, which I plan to bring you if that’s okay with you.”
“Normally I would jump at the chance to have someone fix me dinner, but you should see my refrigerator. There is nothing like good ole Southern hospitality. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat half the dishes stuffed in it. The ladies at my church decided they would stock it for me, so I wouldn’t have to worry about what to eat for the next week. Well, more like several.”
“Then I’ll wait until later when you’ve run out of their dishes. I know it takes a while for ribs to heal, and they can be painful.”
“Like I said, I don’t usually turn down a home-cooked meal, so you’ll get no argument from me. When it’s my time to cook at the fire station, I’ve actually heard some groans from the other firefighters.”
