Blake and Sara stood alone. The moment drew out, making the usually confident Blake nervous, unsure of what to say. Then she turned to face him and he forgot how to speak altogether. Dammit, happened every time. Like he was a stupid teenager all over again.
She absent-mindedly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Weather like this, I was hoping for a quiet night of playing cards, maybe some TikTok dances.”
“Ah, cards, yes, I’m good with that, but not sure my dance moves are what they used to be,” he replied, cursing himself with every stumbling word.
“Not a dancing man, then?”
Blake wondered where this was going. “I…never dance, honestly. Way too self-conscious for that,” he admitted. May as well be honest.
“What about karaoke?” Sara probed.
He looked at her with a sideways glance and caught a wry smile on her lips. She was definitely teasing him. “That’s my worst nightmare…ever.”
They both laughed as they approached the ambulance bay that housed the EMS offices.
“How were the roads? Looks pretty rough out there,” she asked, more seriously.
“Coming down pretty heavy. Driving down the mountain, I only saw one road crew out.”
“Snowplows are under a private contract now, just like everything.”
“Still got us.” He nodded toward the Eastfork Emergency Medical Services seal on the ambulance bay doors.
Sara frowned. “You didn’t hear? They’re going to turn the ambulance service over to Potsdam. It’s like the whole town’s preparing to declare bankruptcy or something.”
Blake stopped short. “What? They can’t—that’ll mean response times of an hour or more. Our patients are underserved as it is. They really don’t deserve this.”
“I love how you’re more worried about your patients than the fact that it means you’ll lose your job.”
Blake rubbed his cleanly shaved chin as he absorbed the consequences of her words. Life was going to change. Jobs were going to be lost. “What about you? Surely, they can’t close the ER?”
“Minor care center,” she corrected. “Word is, once the government funding runs out, MediCorps is shutting us down like the rest of the hospital. Stripping us naked and selling off the parts.”
He shook his head, lost in thought, surprised by how much the idea of never seeing her again upset him. Wherever his thoughts were going, he needed to secure that shit. He was no good for anybody, not with his damaged psyche, and there was no way he could risk hurting her if the PTSD got out of control again. She was a good doctor and could take her skills anywhere. She would help people wherever she ended up.
She had a future—and it wasn’t with Blake.
“What am I gonna do?” She shrugged. “I’ve no idea, but things always work out, somehow. Don’t they?”
Blake was about to say he wasn’t too sure about that when Alyssa, the paramedic he partnered with, emerged from the EMS dispatch office. She tied her curly Afro back into a bun, then threw on a jacket over her dark green uniform.
He’d lucked out getting a partner like Alyssa. He admired her dedication, taking the graveyard shift while juggling college classes with work. She was the definition of driven, saving up to attend physician assistant school, even convincing Blake to study in order to someday upgrade from an EMT-A to paramedic himself. That was Alyssa, always with a plan. Which is why, even though she was fifteen years younger than he was, he didn’t mind that she was his boss.
“Hey, guys, good timing,” she said when she spotted them. “We gotta go. Sara’s favorite frequent flyer needs transport to Potsdam.”
Both Blake and Sara smiled. Thomas was one of their regulars, an elderly gentleman who had been part of the routine at the Medical Center—when the Medical Center had still existed—for so long that he felt like part of the family. Along with his chronic conditions, the shadow of prostate cancer was ever threatening to end his life, but Thomas always had a smile and a good story to cheer up everyone he met.
“Is it his kidneys or diabetes?” Blake asked. The renal failure that Thomas’s severe diabetes had caused was a sideshow, or “shit-show” as he called it, to his cancer. He always joked he was taking bets on which would kill him first.
Sara said, “I’ll bet he forgot his insulin. Last time he came in, I won the pool with a blood sugar of 468.”
“Nah.” Blake shook his head. “Thomas isn’t one to make the same mistake twice. I’ll go for kidneys.”
Sara turned to Blake and raised an eyebrow. “Usual bet?”
“Giant bag of Peanut M&M’s? Sure thing,” Blake replied with a grin.
Alyssa shook her head with a knowing smile that said “get a room, already” and held up the ambulance keys. “C’mon, partner, time to roll out and rock.”
