Just One of the Guys(101)

“You’re an EMT?” Mary asks.

“Yup,” I answer.

“Lucky for me.”

The sirens are louder now. “How’s the pain?” I ask.

“Not that bad. Mostly my head and shoulder. Am I okay?”

“Nothing else?”

“No.” She sighs. “I just bought this car.”

I smile. “At least you seem to be okay.”

At last, a fire truck and the department’s ambulance arrive on the scene. The guys swarm off the truck like efficient, gear-clad bees. One leans down to me. It’s Trevor. For some reason, I knew it would be. We haven’t seen each other since the big night, since we fought.

“Hey, Chastity,” he says, sounding mildly surprised. “What’ve we got?”

“Hey, Trev. Um, well, this is Mary, age thirty-five. She was reaching for her cell phone, right, Mary? And then she hit the barrier, then bam! She got hit from behind.” Trevor nods, and my voice picks up speed and confidence. “I witnessed the accident. She’s got a laceration on her head, some shoulder and neck pain, so I’ve been holding the C-spine. She remembers what happened, is alert and oriented. Positive LOC for less than a minute.”

Trevor nods. “Hi, there,” he says to Mary. “I’m Trevor. I’m a firefighter and a paramedic. We’re going to get you out of there and take you to the hospital to get checked out. Sound good?”

“Okay,” Mary says. “Can she stay with me?”

Trevor glances at me, smiling. “You bet.” Helen comes over, talks to Trev for a second, goes back to the truck. I stay in the back of the car, holding Mary’s head, my heart still thumping.

Santo approaches with a cervical collar and gets in the back with me. “Hold her steady, Chas…good girl.” He snaps the collar into place. “We’re all set, Chas,” he says. “You can get out now.”

“Good luck, Mary,” I say, patting her shoulder gingerly.

“Thank you so much,” she says, reaching up to grip my hand.

My legs still wobble when I get out. I take a few steps away from the car and watch Eaton Falls’s bravest do their work. Trev seems to be running the scene—I guess my father is back at the firehouse, not on this detail. Trevor talks into the radio, then goes to the ambulance and opens the back doors. He and Paul take out the stretcher. Santo checks Mary’s abdomen and shoulder, and they slip a vest over her to further stabilize her spine. Jake has the Hurst tool and starts cutting through her door, which is apparently stuck shut.

When Jake is through, Trevor moves in and guides Mary onto the backboard. He says something to her and takes her hand, his face so warm and reassuring that I know she’ll feel better just because he’s there. Then he and Paul lift her carefully and load her onto the stretcher, strapping her in. He’s talking to her the whole time, smiling at her, doing what he does so well.

I love him. I’ll always love him and I realize I’d rather be alone than with someone who’s not him. No matter what Trevor says, no matter who he’s with, no one else will do. My heart is so raw and unguarded at that moment, the truth is so unbearably stark, that my knees buckle, and I have to sit down on the curb.

Trevor bends down to listen to Mary, then looks up. His eyes find mine. He gestures to Mary, and her hand lifts up in a wave. Then she’s loaded into the ambulance, and Paul climbs in with her. Jake gets in the driver’s seat, and a second later, the lights are flashing, the siren is blipping and off they go.

Trevor comes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you all right, Chastity?” he says, his voice scraping my swollen heart. He takes my hand and puts his fingers on my wrist, checking my pulse.

“I’m fine,” I say, not looking at him. I’m still shaking. Trevor peers into my face, his beautiful eyes worried. “I’m not going to faint,” I assure him, glancing at those chocolate pools for just a second. I manage a smile, and he squeezes my hand.

“You did it, Chas,” he smiles. “You looked like a true O’Neill out there.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, my chest tight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, letting go of my hand.

“Yes,” I say in a more normal voice. “It was just a little…overwhelming.”

He nods, then glances at the engine. Santo is talking to a little kid, her eyes starry in that classic “I love firefighters” look. Helen climbs into the engine. Trevor looks back at me. “That’s a beautiful ring you’ve got there,” he says quietly.

Despite my thudding heart, I keep my voice light. “Thanks. Ryan has great taste.”

“In more than just rings.” His gaze drops to the pavement. “I should go.”

“Okay,” I say numbly. “Thank you, Trevor.”

The light catches the reflective letters on the back of his gear as he walks away. His hair ruffles in the breeze off the river, but the rest of him looks heavy and tired. Santo climbs into the driver’s seat, gives the horn a little blast and waves at me. I wave back and watch them leave.

The police are still milling around, talking to the driver of the second car. They ask me a few questions. A tow truck comes. When I’m finally allowed to go, I call the office and tell Pen I won’t be back today. Then I go home, change into shorts and a tank top to row in. While I’m at it, I slide my engagement ring off my finger and put it carefully in my jewelry box.