A Paramedic to Tempt Her - chapter 5

Lacey smoothed out the cotton dress she’d picked for the Laury family cookout for at least the tenth time as they stood at the door to Mia’s parents’ house.

“It still doesn’t have wrinkles in it.” Mia leaned close, careful not to jostle the pretty treats she’d whipped up for the event.

“This is low-key, promise. It’s a bunch of food. Some beer and fruit juice for the kids. It is loud and hectic, but not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, just bring your partner along for the first time.”

Partner. Maybe she should have said girlfriend, but the word felt less than what they were.

Four weeks into this and they were already joking about falling into the lesbian trope of moving in together superfast. Yes, it was a month together, but it wasn’t really.

They’d spent so much time together. Laughed together. Cried after a tough shift. Fought and won against death. It bonded you in a different way.

“They will love you. Adam already does. My parents will, too.” Mia smiled as she reached for the door, but Lacey grabbed her hand.

She just needed one more minute. “He loves me as your colleague.”

“Lacey.” Mia tilted her head and sighed. “Adam loves you because you are wonderful. Maybe your parents didn’t think so because they are idiots.”

“Today is not about them.” She straightened her back, hating the bite in her tone. Mia had asked outright for more details about her parents once. Lacey had shut her down and told her that her past didn’t matter.

Mia hadn’t pushed, but she’d brought them up a few times in casual conversation. She wanted to know about Lacey’s childhood. Part of Lacey understood. The other part had no interest in reliving a past that brought nothing but pain. Particularly when it played no role in her present life.

“Today is about my family. The Laury clan will love you. Now.” Mia reached for the door, swinging it open.

Happy calls of “Mia!” echoed from everywhere in the room and what felt like dozens of eyes hit Lacey. There was no way to pretend this wasn’t intimidating.

“Lacey, it’s so nice to meet you.” Adam smiled as he offered his hand.

“We’ve worked together for a year so I think we are a little past that.” Lacey punched Adam’s shoulder.

“Mom’s in the kitchen.” Adam reached for the tamale-shaped cookies Mia had decorated, but Lacey pushed his hand back.

“Those are for after lunch.”

“Whatever. I am just glad even though she gave up on the bakery we still get the fruits of this labor.” He grabbed a cookie and took off.

“Gave up?” Lacey looked at Mia. “I thought you sold it.”

“I did.” Mia cleared her throat. Her eyes looking everywhere but at Lacey. “It’s a family joke. Very funny, as always.”

Family joke. Lacey didn’t have much background with fun family dynamics, but it was clear Mia didn’t like it.

And that meant Lacey didn’t, either.

“Family jokes?” A woman who was Mia’s twin with gray hairs and wrinkles around her lips and eyes laughed. “Must be talking about Mia giving up on something.”

“I sold the bakery, Mama—for a profit.” She put the cookies on the counter, and Lacey grabbed her hand. Mia squeezed it, then let it go. “But I do love the shift into new things. Mia, the tumbleweed.” She laughed, but there was a hint to the tone. A subtle unease. “Today isn’t about my inability to stay in a career. I brought Lacey, my girlfriend.” Now Mia reached for her hand.

Lacey took it, but her eyes were focused on Mia. “Nice to meet you. I think your daughter is brilliant. She has so many talents.”

“Perhaps too many—it makes her jumpy.” Her mother winked at Mia and then pulled Lacey from her. “Come, my dear. Tell me all about yourself.” Mia’s mother grabbed a plate, put it in Lacey’s hands and then started for the back door. “Where are you from? I know you are a paramedic.”

Lacey looked over her shoulder. Mia gave her two thumbs up, but there was a shift in her. One Lacey recognized. How easy it was to slide back into old habits when the people you grew up with were around.

“Come on, I know all about Mia. I want to know about the first girlfriend she’s ever brought home.”

***

“You okay?” Adam tossed the basketball at Mia.

“Of course.” She shot the ball, not surprised when it popped off the rim. She been off her game since their visit to her family last week.

Visits with her parents always had that impact. She loved them, but their insistence on calling her the tumbleweed, the changer, the quitter. It stung.

“The jokes don’t really mean anything,” said Adam, retrieving the ball.

“I know.” Each of the kids had something their parents pointed out. This was hers. It was fine. Fine. “I don’t mind.” And how could she? She had been a tumbleweed. The urge to try something new was welded into her younger self. She’d tamed it, mostly.

“Mia!” Lacey raced outside the station, her bag already on her hip. “Mrs. Ports. Dispatch thinks it’s real this time. The phone conversation cut off. Dispatch says she’s not picking up on the callbacks.”

Mia didn’t say goodbye to her brother. He knew the routine. Emergencies took precedence.

“You all right?” Lacey asked as she buckled in.

“Of course.” Mia flipped the sirens and set off on the path she knew far too well.

Lacey’s bright gaze bore down on her. At least she had the road to focus on.

Lacey had her past she didn’t want to discuss. Mia had the tiny issue with her parents. At least they both had something they didn’t want to talk about now.

“She’s not at her front door.” Lacey unbuckled, opening the ambulance door as soon as it was safe to do so.

She took off running, Mia only a step behind her.

The front door was unlocked, thank goodness.

Mrs. Ports was on the floor. One hand on her chest. The other holding the old landline phone to her ear.

“Answer. Please.” The words were rough as she stared at the phone and the unknown recipient who wasn’t picking up. Mrs. Ports hung the phone up, then picked it up again and hit Redial.

“We need to focus on you right now.” Mia kept her voice soft but firm. “We’ll call whoever you are reaching out to later.”

“My daughter. Tried…calling. If…I…die…I…want…to…tell…her…sorry.” Mrs. Ports took a ragged breath as two tears leaked down her cheek. “No answer.”

“We need to transport you. We are taking you to Hope Hospital.” Lacey gently tapped Mrs. Ports’s leg as she stood and raced out to grab the gurney.

Mia placed the pads for the manual defibrillator on her chest, then the oxygen mask over Mrs. Ports’s mouth. The woman took a deeper breath, but her color was terrible. Her blood pressure was lower than normal—not uncommon in heart attacks.

The defibrillator started monitoring her heartbeat, steady enough…for the moment.

“As soon as Lacey gets in here, we are going to load you onto the gurney. She is going to ride in the back with you while I drive us to Hope Hospital. The tests we’ve done several times on you in here, we are going to do in the ambulance so we can prep the ER for arrival.” Mrs. Ports was stressed, having a likely cardiac event, but Mia wanted to make sure she understood everything that was about to happen.

“Daughter.” She hit Redial again, and Mia heard the other line pick up and then hang back up. So the person was home but not talking.

“Let’s go!” Lacey pulled the gurney in.

They loaded her onto the gurney, raced to the ambulance. Not quite eight minutes had passed between when they opened the front door and her flipping on the sirens to head for Hope Hospital. But every minute counted.

“She’s crashing!” Lacey’s voice echoed from the back, and seconds later the sound of the defibrillator delivering the shock echoed through the ambulance.

A second shock echoed as the hospital came into view.

Mia relayed everything she could over the radio as she pulled the ambulance to the ER entrance.

She was out of the driver’s seat and pulling the doors to the ambulance open within seconds.

Lacey had bagged Mrs. Ports. She was forcing air into her lungs with the bag valve mask, commonly called a BVM, as the defibrillator registered a heartbeat.

They moved together. A choreography that was well practiced. ER nurses, a doctor she knew and a surgeon named Miranda something raced beside them, talking options about which surgery units were open.

Lacey transferred the BVM to a nurse and stepped back. Their job was done—minus the paperwork. Other medical professionals would take it from here.

She felt cold watching the team race with Mrs. Ports.

“Hey.” Lacey wrapped a hand around her shoulder, squeezing her tightly. Compartmentalization was necessary in this line of work. But some patients affected you differently.