“Oh, you’d be surprised when those come in handy,” Bensays. “I’ve used them as ice pack covers, breathing aids, dry bags, urine sample holders?—”
“Do you actually like this part of the job?” I cut him off. “I’ve known you all of ten seconds, but you seem happy with… slow. No offense.”
He pats me on the head. “I’m what they call an eternal optimist.”
My teeth worry at my bottom lip. Does that make me a pessimist? Feeling concerned about my father while he’s on the line and finding little distraction in anything else? I consider it for a moment. How much joy it brings me to take care of the people I love.
I stuff the last of the barf sacks in the jump bag. “I think I’m an altruist,” I declare in some boisterous form of self-discovery.
“And you’re not with them right now. That’s why you’re feeling anxious. Makes sense,” Ben adds. He continues stocking sedatives, anticonvulsants, aspirin, and over-the-counter medications in an overhead compartment like he didn’t just fill in as my therapist, validating my feelings.
My leg bounces a million miles a minute from where I’m perched on the gurney. “Well, doesn’t it bug you not knowing how they’re doing?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. But I don’t have someone I care about on our crew.”
“I don’t have…” I start to lie but decide to flip the conversation back to him. “But you must have experienced this feeling at some point? To become a paramedic, I mean. Unless you genuinely love life-threatening emergencies, high-stress environments, trauma, and performing under intense pressure simply for the fun of it.” My eyes widen. “Idosound like a pessimist.”
Ben chuckles. “You sound like someone who chose this job for the right reasons, knowing you could face all of that.”
I nod.
“Everyone has a story for why they do what they do.” Dropping his eyes from my face, he leaves the back of the ambulance without another word.
We don’t talk much the rest of the day, managing to busy ourselves until early evening and never getting our own radio alert.
“I make a mean spaghetti,” Ben says as he turns off the lights to the medic wing. “You want to eat together?”
Cooking is something I’ve never enjoyed, but eating alone I don’t mind so much. After being stuck at the barracks all day, I could use a night out.
“Thanks, but maybe another time? I think I’ll take a drive and pick up some food along the way. I have a phone call to make.”
“Sure,” he says, ducking out the door.
My stomach churns. None of what I said to him was a lie. I haven’t checked in with Aunt Karen since I got here, and she’s been blowing up my phone with love life updates. Except for the part about rescheduling for another time. I don’t think that’s a good idea at all. Platonic coworkers don’t have a spaghetti dinner for two without it ending upLady and the Tramp–style. I’m already distracted enough with…
Slumped shoulders and a bobbing head take up the front door window of the building. I rush to the door, holding it open as Dean and Murphy carry a limp Reed through the opening. They’re supporting him by each arm.
“What the hell happened?” I gasp when I see Reed’s face. He’s part pale, part green, with his head flopping all over the place.
“He’s too good for water,” Dean grumbles as they lay him down on the closest gurney.
“Red?” Reed croaks out.
He looks up at me like I’m a kaleidoscope of colors swirlingin the most transfixing pattern. Then his grin blooms and that small depression hollows his cheek. Damn if I don’t blush right there on the spot.
“Red?” Dean questions.
“Don’t ask.” Here is not the time nor place to be divulging my connection to the newest recruit. That knowledge won’t win me any favors with Jack. And Dean’s still not off my forgiveness list.
“I’m starting to like your office,” Reed slurs, like he’s either drunk or hallucinating, but I know it’s because he’s dehydrated. It draws our attention back to him.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I tell him as I cradle his head in my lap. “Do you listen to any of the advice you’re given?”
“I do when it comes from you,” he says. “But not this drill sergeant.” He waves an accusatory finger at Dean, who rolls his eyes.
I hide my amusement with the bow of my head. “I see that strategy is panning out quite well for you.”
“I saved a flock of sheep today!” Reed exclaims.
