A Firefighter's Promise

She’d been giving him a quick introduction to elementary-aged teaching, and he’d taken a few notes and questioned her for the past half hour. He seemed serious about this, which impressed her. Not many people worked so hard to improve their weak areas.

“So you’re saying to keep them engaged individually, and that will encourage them to pay attention.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “If you call on kids randomly to ask them questions, ask their opinion or just use them in an example, the kids will want to listen because they might get your attention next. There will always be a few who distract the class, but at least you’ll have most of their attention.”

“So this is pretty much on-the-fly decision making.”

“Pretty much,” she agreed. “It takes a little practice, but it works.”

“What about a problem kid?” he asked.

“A ringleader of sorts?”

“Exactly. How do you deal with one causing trouble?”

“Engage him. You don’t have time to discipline or anything like that. You’re trying to give them information in a way that they’ll remember it. That’s all. You won’t be seeing these kids again, so don’t make it into a power struggle. You want to get the ringleader’s attention and ask him for his opinion about something. Don’t make it into a punishment. Ask him honestly. You’ll have the entire class’s attention, including your ringleader. That’s priceless.”

“Great,” he said, jotting something down on paper.

“And then there is always The Look. Most of the time a warning is better than a punishment. It takes a bit of practice, but it’s useful.”

“Let’s see it.”

Rachel shot Matt her most teacherly look of warning. He froze, eyes locked on her, and his lips slightly parted.

“Yikes.” He rose to his feet and chuckled. “Seriously, that’s some potent stuff there. Be careful where you point that. I’m not sure what for, but I feel mildly guilty now...and I have this urge to raise my hand before I speak.”

“Oh, good, I haven’t lost it,” she joked.

“I’m not even sure I could reproduce that,” he confessed. He shot her a serious and mildly quizzical look. “That’s all I’ve got. That’s the look I give my firefighters under me when they do something really dumb. But yours—that’s a thing of art.”

“Yeah, it’s not the same,” she agreed with a wry smile. “Maybe it’s a mom thing.”

Matt shot her a grin, then glanced at his watch. “I’m officially done here for the day. Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

“I promised myself I’d go for a walk this afternoon and get some exercise,” she replied, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s about it.”

“Care for some company?” His clear gaze met hers and a smile turned up the corners of his lips.

Part of her knew she should decline his tempting offer, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. “Sure.”

She glanced around the office once more in an attempt to distract herself. He turned off his computer and dropped a few papers into a filing cabinet, his muscular arms flexing as he stretched to reach a file folder.

“Matt, you have the most sterile office I’ve ever seen,” she said.

“Do I?” He looked around. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I can’t tell anything about you by looking at this space. There are no pictures...nothing.”

“The way I like it.” He shot her a teasing grin.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer as they headed down the hallway and into the reception area. The receptionist looked up with a tired smile, but her gaze flickered in Rachel’s direction with interest.

“Good night, Joyce,” Matt said over his shoulder.

“Good night,” she replied, then shot Rachel a sugary smile. “You take care of him, now.”

Rachel wasn’t sure how to answer that and opted for silence. As they exited the door into the summer sunlight, she glanced up at Matt questioningly.

“And that is exactly why I keep things private.” He chuckled. “In a place this size, everyone’s curious.”

A cool breeze whisked by, lifting her dark hair over her face. She pulled her fingers through her hair, holding it back as she glanced up at him.

“A few photos around the office might put the rumors to rest,” she suggested.

“Photos of what?” He shrugged. “My last vacation that I took alone? A picture of me taken by another tourist? No, that’s just depressing.”

“Don’t you have a cat or a dog?”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Maybe a picture of your mom, then.” She shot him a grin.

“Absolutely not.” Matt laughed. “That’s how a guy gets to be known as a mama’s boy.”

“Is that so terrible?” she joked.

“That’s coming from a mother,” he replied with a chuckle. “I love my mom, and she knows it. When I get married, I’ll put my wife’s picture on my desk. Happy?”

“It’ll have to do.”

“Trust me, the mystery is better than the reality.”

“And what’s the reality?”

“A whole lot of work and not much of a social life.” His eyes crinkled up into a smile. “I might need to get a dog so people stop feeling sorry for me.”

The sun peeked from behind a cloud, then disappeared again. Clouds were moving in, the air cooling. The hum of a lawn mower floated over the breeze, bringing along with it the scent of freshly cut grass. The fire station was on the corner of a well-established residential area, and they angled their steps down a tree-lined street, Matt with his hands in his pockets and Rachel sauntering beside him. The houses on either side of them were small bungalows, and the trees that stretched over the road were mature. Matt glanced in her direction.

“Thanks for all your help today. I owe you one.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I feel a little bad for the rumors your receptionist is about to start...”

He grinned. “It’s inevitable.”

“But she’s new, right?” she asked. “Maybe she’ll be properly in awe of you and restrain herself.”