Fannin' the Flames

Chapter 1 1 "Ohhhhhhhh, oh my God! Uhhhhh!" Nicolle paused to wipe sweat from her eyes. "Come on, gurl, come on!" she encouraged herself aloud. "You can do this. Eighty-six. Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight. Ohhhh, dang! Eighty-nine. Ninety!" Nicolle collapsed onto the floor mat as sweat oozed from every pore in her five-foot-six-inch, two-hundred-thirty-five-pound body. With ninety sit-ups, she had reached an all-time high in her morning exercise routine, but she had a feeling it wouldn't matter. She laughed out loud. Lordy, she thought, I know if I step on that scale I'll see that I haven't lost an ounce! It's all right to say I love you out loud, and it's all good so you don't keep it inside-Luther Vandross's voice filled the room as the upbeat tempo of "Say It Now" gave Nicolle the momentum to move to the StairMaster for the final phase of her workout in the bedroom she had converted into an at-home gym. The clock on the twenty-inch television perched in the corner near the ceiling read 7:08 a.m. Listening to music while watching the previous night's bad news with the closed-captioned display was how Nicolle Devereaux-Winters spent every morning that her loving husband of eighteen years was on duty at Fire Station 27 of the County of Los Angeles Fire Department. Slumber was always elusive on the nights she spent alone. Even though she went to sleep late and rose early, the hours still seemed to drag far past the twenty-four Jerome worked on C Shift. So far they'd been lucky Jerome's only injury in the fifteen years he'd been with the fire department was a broken hand, and that had happened off-duty during an annual boxing tournament. This morning, KTLA Channel 5's wacky morning news team seemed more sedate than usual. Giselle Fernandez's lips formed silent words as the white letters flowed upward over the black box at the bottom of the screen. A small picture of a firefighter hovered in the upper right-hand corner above the early morning television icon's head. Exercise regimen forgotten, Nicolle hit the Mute button on the remote control to hear the report. "Three firefighters were injured in the early morning hours, battling a three-alarm apartment house fire, when the floor collapsed. Two were taken to the Alisa Ann Rush Burn Unit while the third, with less severe injuries, was taken to Harbor-UCLA Medical Center. The cause of the explosion and subsequent blaze is not known, but it is suspected that a drug-manufacturing lab is to blame. The names of the three injured firefighters are being withheld pending notification of family." Nicolle wasn't sure what the newscaster had said after revealing that three firefighters had been injured. The Hispanic woman's words seemed to all run together. With trembling hands, Nicolle reached for the cordless phone. She speed-dialed Jerome's cell phone number, and the voice mail picked up before the first ring. His phone was off. Her fingers were numb as she shivered from the coldness brought on by her fear. She then dialed Jerome's pager number and managed to key in their home number, followed by 9-1-1, a code that meant "No matter what you're doing, you betta call me now!" Nicolle made the ten steps to the office across the hall and picked up the handset on the fax machine to call Nellie, her best friend and the wife of Lloyd Frederickson, one of Jerome's colleagues and godfather to their second son. Nellie picked up on the first ring. "I'm already watching the news." "How did you know it was me?" Nicolle spoke quickly, her words tripping like a five-year-old with loose shoelaces. "I called you from the fax phone because I didn't want to take a chance on Jerome calling when I called you." "It's always you when there's a news report about a firefighter being hurt or killed." Nellie's cool tone unnBrown, Parry is the author of 'Fannin' the Flames' with ISBN 9780345501257 and ISBN 034550125X.