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Eddie Diaz had a niggling doubt that his judgement had been flawed. Not just lately, but for a long time. He was constantly questioning himself and his relationships. On the job and in his personal life.
But now he was going to make a decision for his son. He wasn’t going to be the kind of father that continued to mess up his kid.
“I need to quit the 118.”
“What?”
Eddie winced. Bobby looked stunned. The noise of happiness all around him finally penetrated the cotton balls that had felt stuffed in his ears since the night he had spilled hot chocolate on Christopher’s gingerbread house which had led to his son having a meltdown.
He glanced around. It struck him that he could have planned this better and not blurted this out to Bobby at this Christmas event that Bobby had worked hard to create for people who had lost their homes.
“Why?” Bobby asked, concern in every line of his face and his voice. “What’s happened?”
Eddie allowed Bobby to grab his arm and steer him off to the side.
He sighed and dragged a hand down his face as he briefly explained the situation. “Christopher is scared that he’ll lose me just like he lost his mother. The sniper, then the prison break,” he shook his head, “it’s been too much, Bobby. My son’s anxiety sits in the room between us, choking me. I can’t...” He paused and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I can’t do this to my kid.”
Understanding washed over Bobby’s features. “Eddie,” he said hushed. He squeezed his arm again. “I don’t blame you.” He blew out a breath.
Eddie watched Bobby and could tell the man was quickly thinking through options. His instinct was to end this conversation, go over to Hen and Buck and let them know he was quitting and be done with this. He forced himself to wait, to be patient. Maybe Bobby had some suggestions to offer. He cursed himself for not even thinking when he made this decision to ask Bobby for help before he went nuclear with this.
“Just… just wait, Eddie. Give me a day to think about other options. I hope you haven’t taken this to HR?”
Eddie immediately shook his head. No. He hadn’t gone to HR. He had not even considered going to anyone but his captain first, then his team and last, the official channels like HR. They were a team. The team came first. Bureaucracy came second.
“I-I was going to tell the team next,” he admitted. Tell Buck.
“Just wait a day, Eddie. You don’t have to come back on shift. I’ll get a floater. But let me think and ask around as to what options you have,” Bobby urged.
He sighed and finally nodded. He could wait a couple of days.
—
Two days later, he sat on his couch, his eyes glued to the space where had had inadvertently ruined Christopher’s gingerbread house. He had barely been able to bring himself to clean it up.
I wanted everything to be perfect.
You, me, presents and-and stockings. That sounds pretty good to me, right?
Hey. Okay, we’ll make an even bigger gingerbread house next year, right?
You could be dead next year.
They couldn’t go on in this manner. He couldn’t let Christopher sit with his fear that he would die just like Shannon. That he would lose his father just like he had lost his mother.
He felt bitterness rise within him. Bobby had asked him to wait. To allow him time to find out what options he had. And instead of actually giving him any, he had sent him the details of someone in the LAFD Human Resources department and asked him to get in touch with the guy. How was that supposed to help?
He swallowed back his disappointment and dragged his hands down his face. No. It was time to man up and make some changes. He grabbed his laptop and opened it up, navigating to his email. Opening Bobby’s email to him, he pulled the HR person’s email from it and opened a fresh email. His fingers hovered over the keys, wondering how to start this conversation. Should he dive into it. Or ask for a meeting?
With a sigh he decided to risk a call instead. He hoped to get an answer and hopefully some reassurance for his son quicker.
He pulled up the contact information he had saved in his phone and stared at it for a good long minute before swiping on it to call. He nodded as it began ringing and waited for the voicemail to kick in so he could leave a message.
“Hello, Firefighter Diaz.”
He blinked not having expected his call to be answered. “Hello, Dylan. Uh, Mr Evans,” he quickly corrected himself.
There was a soft chuckle. “Just Dylan is fine, Sir. How can I help you today?”
“Uh, Eddie, please. Has Bobby, Captain Nash, filled you in?” He asked hopefully.
“No. But I am assigned to the 118. How can I assist you?”
Dammit! He took a shallow breath, steadying himself. “I have a situation come up that I'd like to run by you. Is now a good time?”
“Sure, now works.”
Eddie closed his eyes and sat back, grateful he wouldn't have to begin this all over again with someone else. “Do we do this over the phone?” he asked slowly, unsure of how to begin. He hadn’t planned for his call to be answered!
“We could. If you'd like to do it in person I can see you tomorrow or if you give me a day I can figure you into my schedule at a future date.”
Eddie rubbed his hand on his knee. “Can we avoid an official chat and keep this informal?”
“Sure. An informal chat works too. I could come to you today if it's urgent, provided you’re on shift. Probably only after 7 this evening though.”
“No, I can come to you tomorrow? I'd just like it to be an informal conversation,” Eddie repeated.
“Sure. But just so we're clear, I don’t have the ability to erase what we talk about from my mind. I won't act on it unless what you're revealing to me is an illegal activity or situation in which case I have no choice but to report it.”
“Are you a mandatory reporter?” Eddie asked curiously. He didn't know if the people who worked in LAFD HQ took any oath of office or anything similar.
“No. My conscience is plenty and won’t let me rest without reporting it. My conscience is a terrible thing.”
Eddie smiled reluctantly, charmed in spite of himself by what felt like a young person’s thought. When was the last time he had felt so idealistic? He focused back on what needed to be done. “What availability do you have tomorrow?”
“1pm-1300 and 5:30pm-1730 hours."
“1300 please,” Eddie said quickly.
“Sure. I'll meet you behind HQ in the little garden. We have a small outdoor space set up there at the back. If you run into any issues please call me.”
“Thank you. I'll see you then,” Eddie said politely.
“See you tomorrow.”
Eddie set his phone down and sighed. Hopefully this didn't backfire on him. It just had to be done. He briefly considered discussing it with Buck then dismissed the thought. His kid had the issue, it was his to solve. Sharing it with Buck before he had a solution wouldn’t help.
—
The next day, Eddie showed up at HQ fifteen minutes early and made his way around the building to the garden space Dylan had mentioned. As he turned the corner, he spotted a blonde curly haired man sitting at the table, his head bent as he focused on something he was doing with the sun shining down on him. Those curls reminded him of his son’s soft hair. It solidified his will to go ahead with this. He had to do this for Christopher. As he got closer, he noticed the man was in the midst of a video call.
"It's a roach, Rav. Most likely its more scared of you than you are of it."
Eddie stifled a smile at that.
“Well how should I know? I've dealt with New York roaches. I'd just puck them up and put them out the window if I could... Well I usually found a roach once a week or so. I couldn’t very well leave it for the Super to come deal with it. That would be an irrationally long time to mourn a roach… Pick it up with some paper napkins and remember not to squish as you flick!”
Eddie didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he couldn’t help but enjoy the young man’s joy as he turned his face against his arm and laughed freely at who he assumed was the man’s friend’s plight.
“I’m glad my plight amuses you!”
Eddie tilted his head as he got closer. That voice sounded familiar. He must have made some sound, done something to give himself away because big blue eyes turned to look at him before the man waved and beckoned him over.
“I gotta go. If it’s freaking you out, leave it. I’ll come by after work.”
“I will man up!”
“That term reinforces harmful stereotypes, damages mental health, implies gendered weakness, is a shaming tactic,” Dylan said primly. “I could say more but I need to go,” he added with a smirk.
“You are the worst!”
“I love you too,” Dylan said sweetly and waved before ending the call. He smiled at Eddie and waved him toward the opposite bench. “Firefighter Diaz, sorry about that,” he said as he glanced at his watch.
Eddie nodded and sat down. “No problem, I was early. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Just give me a minute to put my things away. I’m Dylan Evans.” He glanced at Eddie with a quick smile as he grabbed the colored pens strewn across the table and began putting them in a case. “Would you like a beverage? I can request someone to bring one out for you.”
Eddie glanced at the sketchpad Dylan had open in front of him. A beautiful forest scene was taking shape. “No, thank you.” He held up his bottle. “I need to get away from the coffee and soda and drink more water.”
“I hear you. H2O is the way,” Dylan agreed as he packed his things away into a folder and moved it aside. He opened another folder, pulling out his tablet and notepad, lining them up neatly on the table in front of him.
Eddie found the contrast of Dylan off the clock with the vibrant colors, the pens strewn about taking up space versus the neat way he set up his work things, containing himself to be interesting. He watched as Dylan grabbed his green tumbler and took a big sip. A slow breath was exhaled before the man visibly changed his body language, straightened his shoulders, then focused on him.
“What would you like to speak about?”
“You’re familiar with my file?”
Dylan nodded. “If I may be blunt?” At Eddie’s nod he continued, “You’re the firefighter who was shot earlier in the year by the sniper.” His lips tightened, “And who was abducted and threatened during the prison riot situation a few weeks ago.”
Eddie swallowed and nodded. “I have a son, Christopher, who is now going through some amount of anxiety that he may lose me because of my job.” He sighed heavily, “Christopher’s mom died in an accident two years ago”. He tried to explain the situation he found himself in to the best of his ability. “I feel like my only option would be to quit so as to reassure my son that he will be safe. I just,” he sighed, “I wondered if there was anything… if I had any other option available to me to stay within the LAFD.” He had thought about this after remembering Buck’s short stint teaching at the academy recently. “Possibly a stint at the academy where I have a normal routine at home with my son?”
“Give me one moment please.” Dylan flipped open his tablet and tapped on it. After briefly reading it he shook his head, “I’m sorry, Eddie, I feel for you, you’ve been through a lot in life and in your career with the LAFD. But you do not qualify to teach any course at the academy at this moment.”
Eddie slumped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Oh.”
“However,” Dylan continued slowly, “there are short term options available to you, temporary reassignment, if you would like to utilize them and evaluate if the change in routine does your son and you any good.”
Eddie lifted his head, reaching out to grab at the hope being flashed his way. “Oh?”
“LAFD Public Service Officer at the Los Angeles Service Center. It’s not a guarantee,” he added quickly. “You’d have to take a short course, display the necessary tech skills, learn the lingo and if you meet the criteria, can be placed there for a maximum of twelve weeks.”
“Twelve weeks?” Eddie asked curiously.
“This is something we’ve begun since 2020. The Public Service Officer is a liaison with the Service Center. It’s a rotating position firefighters who need a break, mental or physical, or a shorter day routine to be with family members in need, or are pregnant, are usually the ones who slot into this position. So if you qualify and settle into the position, you will then have twelve weeks to make a decision on if you would like to return to being a firefighter.”
Eddie nodded as he thought that over. “And if I can’t see myself returning to being a firefighter as I prefer to prioritize my son’s needs?” he asked slowly.
Dylan tilted his head. “If you continue to set your son’s needs at the forefront, which I do applaud you for, you are welcome to come have a chat with me or the team here and we can work with you to figure out what could come next. We would do our utmost to find you a position you could serve in while also doing your duty as a parent. It would most likely involve some further education.”
Eddie felt relief grip him to the point it felt painful. “That’s… that’s honestly so much more than I was expecting. Do I present my captain with the Public Service Officer option or does it need to come from you?”
Dylan shook his head. “It can come from you as the first step just so he’s in the loop.” He glanced at his tablet, “From what I can see, you have taken a leave of absence at the moment and Captain Nash has a floater in your position.” His eyes flicked back to meet Eddie’s. “I’d need you to present yourself at the LASC so their in charge can have a conversation with you.” He tilted his head again, his hair shifting with him. “I believe that would be Sue Blevins or her second, Josh Russo.”
Eddie sighed and placed his hands on the table. “I’ll talk to Bobby today and am ready to speak to the in charge at LASC as soon as possible.”
“Sure. Once you speak with Captain Nash, it would be good for you to briefly note the conversation in an email and send it to me with a CC to Captain Nash. I’ll have a word with our liaison at HQ to get the ball rolling with LASC. Her name is Sara and she’ll most likely have you in this week itself to check on your tech skills. Once you email me, I’ll introduce you to her via email and she’ll take this ahead.”
“This is,” Eddie paused and sighed, deciding to be honest. “I am so relieved to have this option. Thank you so much, Dylan.”
“This is what I’m here for, Eddie. I’m glad I could help.”
Eddie smiled weakly at him and braced his hands on the table to stand up.
“Eddie, since I do have you here, there’s something we need to speak about.”
Eddie blinked and relaxed back, bringing his hands down to rest on his thighs. “Oh?”
“Your team was held hostage during the prison riot while you and Buckley were abducted and threatened with injury to your loved ones if you did not comply.” Dylan stared at Eddie and the weight of his gaze felt heavy. “We had noted at the time that the entire shift would need to have at least one session with a therapist. We hadn’t added compliance dates at the time as we understood that all services are still bogged down. But not that bogged down that you haven’t even made an appointment yet.”
Eddie closed his eyes and blew out a breath. He had completely forgotten about the mandatory therapy email that had gone out post the prison riot situation.
“I believe, considering the circumstances, it would be helpful to get you into a session so I can attach that note to your file and recommend you get a break and be moved into the liaison position.”
Eddie opened his eyes and focused on Dylan. He forced himself to say, “I’ll do that. Thank you for the reminder. And for your help today.”
“It’s my pleasure, Firefighter Diaz. Feel free to reach out anytime. I wish you a good day ahead,” Dylan said gently.
As Eddie walked away, the tight bands of stress around his chest loosened just a little. The future didn’t look like an unending harsh brick wall anymore. It had a door.