The crowd of mothers, kids, and a couple of concerned fathers step apart to allow me access to the injured boy.
Jake rubs the kid’s shoulder in reassurance from his squatted position beside the boy’s head. “You’re doing fantastic, sport.” He glances up as my shadow passes over the two of them but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Emily, this is Clint. Clint, this is Emily. It looks like she’s going to be your EMT.” His jaw flexes as he rotates his head from side to side as if he’s trying to relieve neck pain. “She’ll get you all taken care of, and you’ll be back on the swings in no time.” He keeps his attention on Clint like I’m the one who’s nobody. That realization hurts more than I thought it would.
“I’m not ready to get back on the swings.” The little boy’s face pales as if he’s envisioning falling to the ground in a heap again.
Jake chuckles as a fraction of the tension eases from his jaw. “I hear ya, buddy. When I fell out of a tree at your age, I didn’t climb another one for a couple of years.” His eyes finally rake over me. “I’m surprised to see you in a paramedic’s uniform.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The profession calls for people who don’t make rash and reckless decisions.”
“I’m not an eighteen-year-old kid anymore.” Why in the fuck did he have to come back here? We were fine in Brookhaven without Jake Thompson. No one missed him. Okay, his mom probably missed him. And my stupid ass brother did. But I didn’t.
His eyes sweep over me again before darting away again. “I guess not.”
The quicker he realizes I’m not the same little girl that gushed over him, the better. I’m a professional woman who takes her job seriously. “This isn’t the time or place for small talk. Let’s focus on the patient.”
“For once, you’re right.” His voice is as clipped as mine as he shifts his attention away from me, sending a chill along my spine.
“What’s the extent of the injuries?” I run my hand along the boy’s head and neck, feeling for lumps or any signs of extensive damage. The boy’s face is splotched and covered with dirt. On one cheek, there’s a light streak going down the dirt. Tough kid. Only one tear streak.
Jake rocks back on his haunches. “He fell from the second swing, landing on his right hand with his wrist braced, and then smacked the side of his head on the ground. I believe he has a fracture. Likely involving his growth plate, and at minimum a mild concussion.”
I work my fingers along his body inch by inch. “And what makes you qualified to give that diagnosis? Did you also get a medical degree while you were gone?”
Our voices remain low enough that only the boy can hear, and luckily, he’s not old enough to understand what we’re talking about.
“I’ve had training in rendering medical aid, just like you have.” He arches one eyebrow. “And I earned a four-year degree. I guess that makes me qualified to give an on-the-spot analysis. Maybe more qualified.”
My teeth gnash together. “Why don’t we leave the medical side of things to me, for now?”
“Sure thing.” He lifts one shoulder. “Just don’t screw it up.”
I’m going to grab his taser and shoot him in the chest with it. “I could’ve gotten a four-year degree if I wanted to.”
“I…. I didn’t….” he sputters as if he didn’t realize what he said. But I’m not going to forget.
“Is he okay?” A woman’s panicked voice comes from behind me.
“We’ll do everything we can for him here and then transfer him to a hospital for further testing and observation.” I smile atthe boy without looking up to anyone in the crowd. “But you’re doing great.”
“Thank you.” Clint quirks a smile, but his brown eyes remain pain filled. “My mom’s dramatic.”
“I see that,” I whisper and give him a conspirator’s wink as the kid’s eyelids droop lower. He’s a tough kid. I’ve seen grown men sobbing over a broken wrist. “Although I understand where she’s coming from. Most moms lose their minds a bit when their kids get hurt, so we’ll have to make quick work of things.”
“I’ll hold his head while you check his other extremities.” Jake nods toward his swollen arm.
“Thank you.” I put my irritation with Jake on the back burner. This child and his mother deserve my utmost professionalism.
“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Dale says as he squeezes the mother’s shoulder.
They must be new in town because I don’t recognize the mom or her son. They probably live in one of the apartments at Eden Heights. Their ‘Apartments for Rent’ sign has been pulled.
“Emily is a top-notch paramedic, and Jake Thompson was an Eagle Scout.”
I swallow my surprise. I hadn’t expected Dale to know Jake since he was so much older than the two of us.
