Set Fire To The Rain

When You Walk Through the Fire

Noe and I went back and forth about whether or not we should pack up and leave.

But knowing how hard we'd fought for this romantic getaway together, against Noe's firefighting schedule and my time-off bargaining at work, I argued we deserved to stick it out a couple more days.

The break-in was bad timing, and reportable, absolutely.

But why let some random weirdo with a sketchy backstory ruin this whole trip for us?

Noe reported the so-called "Carter" to the reservation office, which led to absolutely nothing.

"Sorry, I'm not allowed to give out information on the property owners," the wanna-be Marilyn Monroe at the desk made her conveniently bullshit excuse. "But here's the ranger's number, in case this 'owner' gives you any more trouble. He's 30 minutes down the mountain. Give him a call."

I don't know if she was blowing us off because of our little fallout the day before, or because the manager wasn't happy about giving us a refund. The word "break-in" left a nasty taste in his mouth, contradicting the "very safe and very quiet" selling point of the lodge's brochure.

Whatever they weren't telling us about Carter, 'Marilyn' didn't seem to care that some stranger had walked into a cabin he wasn't supposed to have access to, claiming to be a landlord no one could verify.

She was way more interested in telling us about the weather instead.

"You know, we're expecting light snow tonight. By 9 p.m., they said. So, unless you got tire chains on your rental car-"

(Which we didn't)

"Staying in that cabin is probably safer than driving off this mountain right now. At least for the next couple of days. But I can't tell you what to do. It's your choice."

I voted to stay.

Because at the end of the day, it was about us, and about all those days I wished my husband wasn't a firefighter, so he could just stop and breathe.

Noe took the lead at his job for 24 hour-long stretches, making decisions and being on constant go-mode between mentoring the less experienced firefighters, station chores, running calls, and dropping meals for a bell that went off night and day.

This time off was a godsend to him.

And despite the clichés of abs and smoke assumed of Firefighter Wife-Life, this second honeymoon with him was the one Hallmark TV cliché I actually did get to keep, and damnit, I would fight for it.

To be snowed in with the love of my life, warm and cozy cuddled up with each other next to an actual fire, with Yosemite just outside our door was supposed to be our Zen, not The Shining.

I wasn't ready to give that up.

"Look, putting aside the way he came at me, and the handcuffs, and how he asked certain questions, what if he really was just telling us the truth?" I told Noe. "I don't want to assume the worst and cancel our trip for nothing. I mean, is it really a vacation if you don't come back with some crazy story? I'm fine. We have the ranger's number. He seemed sorry. I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"Wait, this guy had handcuffs on him too?" Noe asked me, peeking around from behind the TV in our cabin, having been tinkering away with the cords in the back to see if they were the culprit for the antenna not picking up a signal. "You didn't tell me that."

"Looked like it," I slowly admitted. "But can you blame him? The closest ranger is 30 minutes downhill."

"What guy walks around with a pair of handcuffs?" Noe had his doubts, as he hop-scotched his way from behind the TV, wiggling his ankle out of a bundle of cords. "Off-duty cop or not, it won't stop me from pursuing charges. Something about this just doesn't add up. Which only makes me feel that much better that I got to you when I did. Who knows what his real motives were?"