“I’ll be waiting,” I said, as she walked toward the ladies’ locker room.
“She’s a sweetheart,” Tyler said. “Have you been working with her long?”
“Just started today,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, what’s up?”
“Well, you know Mason has been all over me about meeting you, which really means Gia has been all over him.”
“Ha,” I said. “Yep.” I hadn’t been introduced to Tyler’s partner and his wife yet, because their daughter, Sofia, had been struggling with an ear infection that wouldn’t clear up, despite two rounds of antibiotics. Neither parent was getting much sleep, so socializing was pretty much their last priority. “Is the baby any better?”
Tyler nodded. “She is. Enough that they’re going to get a sitter for her on Sunday night, for the Fourth. I guess one of their friends is having a party at his parents’ place out in the county. I thought maybe, if you want to go, you could meet them there.” He paused. “Unless Daniel is coming up and you’d spending the holiday with him.”
“Nope,” I said. “He has to work. So it’s a date.”
“A date, huh?” Tyler said, raising his eyebrows. His green eyes twinkled and we held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than we normally would. I had a sudden giddy feeling in my gut. What the heck is that about? I wondered. Am I flirting with him? Is he flirting with me?
Doris reemerged from the locker room and made her way toward us. “I’ll pick you up Sunday at six?” Tyler said, before she arrived.
So I did the only thing I could manage—I nodded, let him hug me, and then watched him walk away.
Tyler
“She called it a date, huh?” Mason asked as he pulled out of the station parking lot onto the street, flipping on the lights and siren of our rig. “Sounds like you might actually have a chance with the girl.”
“Maybe,” I said, trying not to get my hopes up too high. Spending time with Amber since she’d come home from school was everything I’d wanted it to be. Even though we worked opposite hours—my swing shifts to her early mornings into the afternoons—we still found a few evenings a week to go on runs together and then grab sushi for dinner, or just hang out at her parents’ house or mine. We talked and laughed like we had when we were in high school, before the night my confession of being in love with her threw up a wall between us that had never quite gone away.
There was no sign of that wall yesterday, when I went to see her at the gym. She was bubbly toward me—flirtatious, even—and when her eyes locked on mine, I couldn’t deny the arousal I felt, or the heated flush I saw rise in her cheeks. Maybe being away from Daniel was exactly what she needed to figure out how she really feels, I thought as I left her on the gym floor with her client. Maybe spending so much time with me is showing her that marrying him would be a mistake—that she would be happiest if she chose me.
Now, it was just past eight on Saturday night, and dispatch had called for all units at the station house to get to a multicar accident on I-5 near the Fairhaven exit. Several other firefighting and medic teams were already on the scene—my dad’s likely included—but there were so many injured, they needed more. A tanker truck had jackknifed when the driver in front of it slammed on his brakes; the domino effect of crunching metal and broken windshields quickly took over all of the southbound lanes. Multiple car fires and possible fatalities had been reported—not a great way to begin a shift, even on the best of days. And today certainly didn’t fall into that category. Despite how well things were going with Amber, I’d still woken up that morning with what felt like a giant stone settled on top of my sternum. My entire body was shaky; my hands trembled, and I had no idea why. There was no rhyme or reason to when anxiety would hit me—no inciting event or emotional precursor. It just showed up, dug in its claws, and threatened to take over.
Mason turned a tight corner, carefully edging his way around the inattentive drivers who didn’t pull to the side of the road to get out of the ambulance’s way, finally managing to get on the onramp heading south. The freeway was a parking lot; we’d have to drive along the shoulder. My partner flipped the siren on and off a few times to encourage the cars in front of us to pull to the side so we could change lanes and get where we needed to be. “Out of the way, dumbass!” he yelled. Every minute we weren’t on the scene, another life could be lost.
The thick ache in my chest pulsed as I looked down the road and saw the enormous plume of black smoke rising up from where we were headed. “Damn,” I said. “Looks bad.” The words stuck in my throat and came out sounding strangled.
Mason gave me a quick, worried look out of the corner of his eye. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, drumming my fingers on the tops of my legs.
“You sure? You seem kinda jumpy.”
“I’m sure. Ready to get to work,” I said. Calm down, I told myself, curling my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. Just do your fucking job.
As we inched down the side of the road, we listened to the scanner for more information from dispatch, but none came through. “Unit forty-nine, approaching the scene on I-5 south,” I said into the radio.
“Heard, unit forty-nine,” the operator said. “Firefighters extracting multiple vics right now. Do not approach the vehicles. I repeat. Do not approach the vehicles. Fighters will bring vics to you.”
“Copy that, dispatch,” I said. “Unit forty-nine, out.” I glanced at Mason, who had gotten us as close to where we needed to be as we were likely going to get, about a hundred feet from the tanker, which was now lying on its side. Behind that, I saw the source of the black smoke: at least five cars in flames, countless yellow-jacketed fighters spraying water and chemical fire retardant everywhere, in an effort to prevent gas tank explosions. I knew one of those fighters was my father, but it was impossible to tell which he might be. My heartbeat thudded in a wild rhythm with the added pressure of possibly running into him, having to perform my work under his scrutiny. He’ll be too busy doing his job to care about yours, I thought. Get over yourself. Get your head in the game.
“Let’s hit it,” Mason said, jumping out of the driver’s side door and running toward the back of the ambulance. After a deep breath, I followed him. We grabbed the gurney and our supply bags, weaving through the cars trapped by the blocked lanes. The thick gray clouds that filled the sky began to spit raindrops; I hoped it would pour and help extinguish the flames.