“Oh my God,” the son, Scott, muttered. “All of them? Shit.”
“Scott, what’s going on?” Dad demanded.
The kid glanced my way and I could tell he’d rather eat glass, but he lifted his chin. “I had edibles in my drawer. Mom must have thought they were candy and ate them. She’s fucking high as a kite.”
The man looked my way. “She’s high? That’s what’s wrong with her?”
I shrugged. “It would explain her behavior. We’ll get fluids in her and take her to the ER. They can monitor her until the drugs are out of her system.”
“Dad, I’m sorry,” Scott began, but his father held up a hand.
“We’ll discuss it later when your damn mom isn’t fucking stoned from your gummies,” the older man bit out. “You’ll come to the hospital with me.” He turned my way. “Do you tell the police or do I?”
I shrugged. “No officers came on this call, so I’ll give my report and let it fall on the hospital to report what they feel is necessary.”
“Okay, we’ll follow you in the car. Thank you for your help.” The man shook our hands and knelt down to talk to his wife, but she was zonked out. “Come on, Scott. Get in the car. And no phone, hand it over.”
The kid groaned but handed the phone to his father.
Dre and I loaded our patient up and headed toward the hospital. Once we had her delivered safely and our report given, we climbed back in the rig and busted out laughing.
“Oh my God, that woman was out of her gourd high. She’s gonna eat the entire cafeteria once she can get her hands to work right,” Dre said as he panted to catch his breath. “Good call on the gummies.”
“I wouldn’t have figured it out except the kid looked highly suspicious when we brought up drugs and the way he slinked out of the room made me wonder.” I knew we’d need to make sure our report got to the police—despite what I’d told the kid, a minor in possession of edibles meant our mandatory reporter status was in full effect—but I couldn’t help having a little chuckle at the mom thinking she was punishing the kid for laundry and eating his entire bag of gummies. “She’s likely going to be super pissed or have one hell of a story to tell.”
“That kid’s ass is grass,” Dre said with another laugh. “Damn, I don’t want to come off as uncaring, but calls like that—the ones that end well—are so much easier than sick babies and pregnant women in car wrecks. And don’t even get me started on the kid in the pool.” He shuddered.
I found myself wanting to wrap him in my arms and hold him through all the bad shit we’d seen. “Hopefully the hard calls slow down a bit. It’s definitely been a week or so of bad.”
“We’re due for some easy bumps and bruises. Hell, I’d even take another snake or mouse at this point.” Dre pulled the rig into the garage.
“Don’t go too far. I have no interest in mice. How about snakes or a vat of fried chicken grease? I’m down for those over injured or sick kids any day.”
“Think we’ll get anything else before end of shift?” Dre asked as we finished with the bus and walked into the station in hopes of finding leftovers.
“Wrapped up your plates,” someone called from the group watching television.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’d like to say no, but with our recent string of hard calls, who knows.”
We warmed up our food and joined the others.
Only about four more hours and we were home-free.
Of course, based on the way our shifts had gone lately, I wasn’t surprised a couple hours later when our snoozing in recliners was disrupted by a call.
“Damn, I thought we’d made it,” Dre grumbled as we rushed to the rig.
“Unresponsive female at 69069 Remington Way,” dispatch crackled over the radio.
Dre’s eyes shot to mine as he started the engine.
I knew we should have let dispatch know that was our residence, but I didn’t want to get called off. We’d request backup if needed.
“Unresponsive female? Bev or Gabby?” Dre’s voice was tight.
“Or Hadley? But they’d likely indicate a child.” My heart was in my throat. Going into an emergency always held the anxiety and apprehension of the unknown. Knowing the patient was likely either my elderly house mother or younger sister was an added layer that fueled my nerves.
“Fuck,” Dre bit out as he rounded a corner a bit too fast. “Fuck.”
I reached for his arm and gave a squeeze. “We’ve got this. We’re the best at what we do. Whoever it is, they’re in good hands.”
Eleven
Dre
I’d never once frozen up on the job. I lived for the adrenaline and helping people. I didn’t question my choices, always trusted my gut, and easily fell into a zone when it came to administering emergency services to my patients.
Until the day I walked into my home and found Aunt Bev unresponsive on the floor with a nasty gash on her forehead. Time stopped and I froze to the spot, unable to take my eyes from her bleeding head and her colorless lips. Not even Khi’s nudge broke me from the stupor.
And then he was in my face, gripping my shoulders and shaking me hard. “Dre?” He spoke harshly. “You are the best EMT I’ve ever worked with. We got this. Bev needs us and we’re going to get her fixed up and delivered to the hospital.” He seized my chin and forced my eyes to his. “I can’t do this on my own, come on. I need you.”
The crystal blue of Khi’s eyes reached me, breaking me free from my frozen haze of fear. I nodded. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
The whole interaction took less than twenty seconds and then we were on our knees assessing and
