Heartbeat (2 page)
It is traumatic watching Grandma being lifted onto an ambulance stretcher.
I move the damaged car out of the line of traffic and into an empty parking space. The front tire stays on long enough for me to manage the maneuver. It’s not going anywhere until a tow truck takes it away.
I call my dad on my cell phone to tell him about the accident. He sounds perturbed that I interrupted his Saturday afternoon TV marathon instead of being concerned for Grandma.
Typical.
He is always annoyed when he has to deal with us in a real-life capacity instead of zoning out into oblivion.
Twenty minutes later, there is still no sign of him. I grab both of our purses, lock the car doors, and head for the ambulance.
Grandma is already on board in the back with the two older paramedics. They’ve already begun to work on her. The young guy is sitting in the driver’s seat waiting for me. I take a deep breath and open the passenger door.
Wow, I’m going for a ride in an ambulance.
As I boost myself into the seat, I steal a glance to my left. He’s looking right at me. I’m taken aback. This is my first time seeing him up close, and the concern on his face touches me.
Crazy, I know.
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
“Just fine,” he says. “But I’m going to have to ask you a couple questions.”
I appreciate his unhurried approach as he calmly sorts through the necessary paperwork and retrieves a pen from his shirt pocket. I hide a smile as I notice he has the heat on full blast.
I knew he had to be cold in those short sleeves.
“Is your grandmother currently on any medication?” he inquires.
“Yes, she’s on something for her high blood pressure, and she takes a pill for her arthritis every now and then. But I don’t know the exact names of the meds she’s on,” I mutter.
He doesn’t look up as he studiously takes down what I say. “Is she allergic to any medication?”
“Well, she broke out in a rash after taking penicillin, but I think that was over twenty years ago,” I respond.
“Okay, gotcha.” He looks at me with a serious expression, like everything I say is of the gravest importance. And when he does, his eyes strike something deep inside of me. It’s like he can’t believe I’m actually sitting next to him.
I’m reeling a bit.
Why am I feeling such a powerful connection to a guy I just met?
I turn away to try to regain my composure. It has to be the trauma of the accident playing tricks on my stressed-out mind. I’m latching on to the first person offering me a dose of comfort, that’s all.
I see a red Camaro fly by the ambulance.
Great, Dad is finally here. Perfect timing. Right when we’re about to leave.
“I think that’s my dad. Would it be all right if I get out and talk to him?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I won’t leave without you,” he says.
Again, I experience that tug.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be right back,” I reply.
I open the door and throw on my fur-lined hood. A wintry blast hits me in the face. Dad is already inspecting the damage.
“It’s not drivable, is it? Can you drive it behind the ambulance?” are the first words out of his mouth.
“Dad, the front wheel is about to fall off. I’m going with Grandma,” I protest.
“If you don’t want to drive it, then you’re coming with me. You’ll just be in their way,” he mutters.
“I don’t care. I’m not going to abandon her.”
“Fine…fine. What hospital are they taking her to? General?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
He turns and walks back to his car without a backward glance.
Would it kill him to ask how Grandma is doing?
A gust of wind hits me square in the back like two firm hands pushing me toward the guy in the ambulance. Like my guardian angel is sending me a message.
But is it wrong to want to turn to a stranger instead of my own father?
I eagerly push the button on the door handle and hop back into the front seat.
“Thanks for waiting,” I say, giving him a smile.
“No problem. All set?” he asks.
“Yep. My dad’s going to meet us there.”
“Okay, then.”
I reach back and buckle my seat belt. I look over my shoulder into the back of the rig. Grandma is in an upright position and the two paramedics are talking with her. One is taking her blood pressure.
“Her vitals are better than mine,” he jokes.
“That’s good. Glad to hear it,” I remark.
“Adam, take it nice and easy. Let’s have a smooth ride to the hospital. Try to avoid as many bumps as you can, okay?” the other paramedic asks.
“You got it, boss,” he responds.
Adam. So his name is Adam.
He shifts into drive, gliding the ambulance out of the parking lot. I’m grateful for how they’re all taking Grandma’s comfort level into account.
“Looks like the weather’s getting worse,” I say, attempting small talk.
I can’t remember the last time I was in a car with a guy my own age.
“Yeah, you can see the snow coming over the mountain,” he relates.
There is something about that turn of phrase. It is an old-fashioned expression. Everything he does seems to draw me in.
As the traffic light changes, we turn by the shopping center and proceed toward the interstate. He is driving as slow as he possibly can. I let myself believe he wants to prolong our time together.
It feels good to be driving on this familiar stretch of road with someone else. Grandma and I go to the movies nearly every Saturday afternoon. Nothing ever changes…until now. It’s like he’s bringing me back to life.
Wow. It isn’t every day that I have a girl riding next to me. That’s for sure. Working such long hours, I barely have a chance to look at girls, period. Between going to school and putting in time on the ambulance, I can’t even keep my eyes open half the time. But I’m certainly awake now…
I can’t take my eyes off her. I better stop staring. She’s going to think I’m some kind of weirdo. But I can’t help it. There’s something about her.
I better think of something to say…fast. We can’t sit here in silence.
I glance quickly in the rearview mirror and catch Charlie looking back at me. He shoots me a big, goofy grin.
Great. Having an audience certainly doesn’t add to the pressure. Thanks, Charlie.
I blurt out the first thing that enters my head. “What movie did you see?”
She scrunches up her face like she doesn’t want to tell me. “The action flick with all of the big stars from the 1980s. Grandma loves those guys.”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.
“A couple of weeks ago, I went to see that comedy everybody’s been talking about,” I offer.
“Did you like it?” she asks.
“Yeah, it was good,” I say.
“How was the little dog? I heard he steals the show.”
“Yeah, he sure does,” I laugh.
Another awkward pause. Man, I need to shake off the cobwebs.
This time, she jumps in. “Do you think we’re going to the right hospital? Would it be your choice?”
Of course, she’s nervous about her grandmother. How stupid of me to be hitting on her when she has a lot on her mind.
“If her injuries were more serious, I’d recommend the trauma center over Mercy, but she’ll be fine at General’s ER.”
“Okay, good.”
Oh no. I got so caught up in our conversation I never merged into the left lane on the interstate. I better get over there now before I miss the exit. She must think I’m a complete idiot. Way to show incompetence on the job. Charlie’s probably laughing his ass off back there.
“Were you busy today?” she inquires.
I have to give her credit for staying with me.
“Not really. I’ve been on since six o’clock this morning. These twelve-hour shifts make for some pretty long days. And that doesn’t even count the time I have to spend in the classroom,” I explain.
“Have you been doing this a long time?” she asks.
Ah, there’s the question I’ve been dreading.
The recent past is something I don’t like to talk about, but I think I can get through it…without dredging up too much. I feel comfortable talking to her.
“Not too long. I moved here about a year ago. Before that I was a lifeguard in California.”
“Really? That’s cool.”
I see a look of incredulity pass over her face, but she doesn’t press me. I know she’s wondering why anyone would leave paradise for this.
Well, sometimes paradise isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
We’re at the ER entrance, but I don’t want to let her go. There’s some invisible force pulling me toward this girl. I can’t explain it, but I can definitely feel it. I’m the last person on earth looking for romance right now, but I can’t deny there’s something there.
I pull in and throw the ambulance into park. She gives me a smile before opening the door and jumping out. I feel a twinge in my heart.
Is this it?
“C’mon, Adam, we need your help back here,” Charlie calls.
Of course, Charlie and Tommy are going to leave the heavy lifting to the rookie. Let the young guy handle taking the stretcher out of the cab…
every time.
I hustle to the back and start getting the stretcher out. I don’t want to jostle the poor lady any more than I have to.
I look behind me and see that the girl’s father has suddenly appeared. He got here fast. And by the glare he’s giving me, I don’t think I’m going to get to say another word to his daughter.
“Follow me,” I say to them as I start wheeling the stretcher through the unloading area into the hospital.
I know this maze of corridors like the back of my hand. Sometimes I’m here seven or eight times in a shift. It’s not crowded today. They shouldn’t have to wait too long. But what I wouldn’t give to spend more time in the waiting area with her. I wish I could think of an excuse to hang around.
“Adam, why don’t you take the patient’s family to reception so they can check her in?” Tommy pipes up. “We’ll see where they want us to put her.”
“Okay. This way,” I direct them as we exit through a swinging door into the waiting area.
Oh great, Suzanne is working the desk.
We usually engage in a little bit of harmless flirtation every time we cross paths, but that’s something I don’t want to engage in right now.
“Here you go. Suzanne will take care of you,” I remark, leading them to her.
“Thanks for all of your help,” the granddaughter conveys to me. There is such a sense of warmth radiating from her. I really don’t want to leave her alone with that hardass of a father.
But there’s nothing more I can do. I’m on the job. I have to get back to my crew. But how can I walk away from her…when in all likelihood I will never see her again? Why am I so hesitant to dive in, take a chance?
“No problem,” is all I manage to spit out before making a hasty retreat.
The sliding door lets in another frigid blast of air as a mother with a crying baby enters the waiting area. I am sitting halfway across the room, sheltered by a cubicle wall. It surrounds the desk of a hospital worker who is entering Grandma’s insurance information into a computer. But I still shiver. I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again.
For the moment, I can breathe easy. Dad went back to his car to get his insurance card since Grandma doesn’t keep hers in her wallet. Even on a good day, his presence puts me on edge, but whenever things go wrong…watch out.
Not knowing where to look since the woman behind the desk is tuning me out, I stare at my fingernails. We’ve been here for a half hour, and there’s still no news on how Grandma is doing. I’m starting to get worried.
Plus it looks like my knight in shining armor has left the building. I don’t know why, but his absence upsets me more than Grandma’s impending condition.
What’s wrong with me? I need to get a grip.
I texted my cousin, Jennifer, about what happened. She feels terrible, but with two kids under five, she isn’t about to drive through a snowstorm to come to the hospital. I am stuck here alone…with Dad.
The automatic door opens again and a man rushes up to the main desk. “Can you help me? My wife was in a car accident. They said they were bringing her in through the back.”
“Sir, what’s her name?” asks the young receptionist. Some people have all the luck. Her ebony hair is styled in a cute pixie cut, and she has flawless porcelain skin to boot. Her demeanor radiates confidence while I sit, shoulders hunched, head down. I don’t feel like listening in on the rest of their conversation so I try to read the paperwork that is upside down in front of me.
“That was a quick turnaround, right?”
My head immediately pops up.
It’s him. He’s back.
“Adam, I know you can’t stay away from me,” the receptionist giggles.
I think I’m going to be sick. As their voices grow more intimate, it is hard to make out what they’re saying. Their whispering is intermingled with laughter. I feel like the room is spinning.
Why does he have to flirt with a girl who is ten times prettier than I’ll ever be…right in front of me?
Well, to be honest, I don’t know if even saw me behind the partition, but still. Whatever connection I thought I felt sitting beside him in the ambulance seems to instantly evaporate. Apparently, he operates on the principle ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ He probably flirts with every girl who crosses his path, and being in a vulnerable state I read more into it than what it was worth.
I’m such a fool.
I admit I have very little experience with the opposite sex. I never approach guys, and guys usually don’t approach me. Or I should say, the right kind of guys. Sure, every girl gets hit on from the sleazeballs of the world every now and then but never anything worth pursuing.
I have serious trust issues. An overbearing yet emotionally distant father sets the bar. I know I should have a stronger self-image, but when the person who is supposed to be the role model for my perception of the male gender makes me feel like a worthless failure, it’s hard to believe a potential boyfriend will treat me any better.
I don’t mean to sound so broken down, but I’ve had a tough year. When my cousin, Jennifer, finally married the father of her children last summer, she decided to throw the mother of all bachelorette parties. Even though I was underage, she was able to smuggle me into the nightclub downtown with her posse of bridesmaids since she knew the bouncer who checked IDs.
But what I wouldn’t give to take that night back.
***
I’ve never had so much to drink, ever.
We started at her maid-of-honor’s house with beer and wine. Now we are doing tequila shots at the bar, and it is as if my brain is floating outside of my body.
That’s when Patrick spots me.
We went to the same high school, but he graduated a few years before I did. I’m excited that an ‘upperclassman’ is paying attention to me, and with the amount of alcohol flowing through my veins, my inhibitions are certainly lowered.
He comes over and takes my hand, leading me to the upstairs dance floor. No one from Jennifer’s group is concerned that some strange guy is taking me away from them. When we get up there, the techno music is pounding and the strobe lights are flashing. He guides me to the floor and immediately wraps his arms around me. Next thing I know, he has his hand between my legs. I am mortified. He is touching me in plain view of everyone.
When I’m about to pull away, he kisses me, hard. His mouth crushes mine before his tongue slides in. I have never kissed a boy before, not ever. I’m eighteen and never been kissed.
Sad, but true.
And to experience my first kiss in such a heated, public way is not how I imagined it in my head.
I don’t know what to do. So I move my tongue with his until he comes up for air. With glazed eyes, he takes me over to another bar area, telling me to wait there. He’ll be right back.
I stand in a trance-like state. The room itself pulses. Everything is muffled and indistinct. Neon lights streak across the dance floor. The DJ releases artificial smoke into the crowd. The whole thing is surreal.
Patrick returns with a glass of water. That should have tipped me off right there. What bar serves water in a glass instead of a bottle? But I greedily drink it down. Stupid me. God only knows what he slipped in it.
The next moment, Patrick and I are walking out the door. I see members of Jennifer’s group outside. Patrick asks them if it’s all right if he drives me to their next destination—yet another bar, but this time it’s closer to home. Jennifer is there, and she is fine with the plan. But she is drunk off her ass, so I don’t know how well her cognitive abilities are functioning.
But if I were in danger, some familial instinct would kick to protect me, right?
I get into Patrick’s black coupe and he flies through the mostly deserted streets. It is just after one o’clock in the morning, and no one is around. I start making ridiculous small talk, mentioning the name of the girl he used to go out with in high school and asking how his sister is doing. He gives short, distracted responses to my inane comments.
Then, quite unexpectedly, he whips into a dry cleaner’s parking lot and turns off the ignition under a streetlight. Shifting in his seat, he immediately places his hand between my legs before once again shoving his tongue in my mouth. I think he’s after more of the same, so I kiss him back tentatively. It isn’t until he begins to unbuckle my jeans that I get worried.
“No,” I say.
“We’re not gonna have sex. C’mon…” he urges.
“No,” I repeat.
“Are you a virgin?” he asks.
That question stops me in my tracks. Is it that obvious? Can he tell that he just gave me my first kiss in a crowd full of horny strangers? He will freak out if he knows how inexperienced I am.
Instead of answering, I shut him up by leaning forward and kissing him.
He proceeds to remove my jeans, an awkward move in the confines of his car. He then pushes my underwear down to my ankles.
The sensation of his fingers is strange, yet it does nothing for me. I think it’s because I’m too freaked out by the rapidly escalating events.
“Please stop, you’re hurting me,” I insist.
“C’mon, let me go just a little further,” he answers.
“No, please stop, please…” I implore.
Apparently, not getting what he wants, he stops.
“Thank you, for being a gentleman,” I respond.
He says nothing.
Why did I say that? I guess because he didn’t try to rape me. I mean, he moved a lot faster and a lot further than I was prepared to go, but no damage was done. I’m technically still a virgin, right? There’s no way I can get pregnant or contract an STD. I have gone from first to third base in one night after never having been kissed before. It is all too much.
Patrick remains silent throughout the drive to the next bar. When we arrive, I ask him to come in with me, but he refuses.
Not knowing what to do, I get out of the car.
“Bye,” I say before closing the door.
I receive no response. He drives off into the night, leaving me standing on the sidewalk. Confused, I walk into the bar and back into Jennifer’s bachelorette party. Even though earlier he asked for my number, I never hear from him again.
***
Adam’s voice brings me back to reality.
“Yeah, I gotta get going. I’ll be seeing you,” he says.
He is moving away from Little Miss Perfect and heading in my direction. This is my chance. If only he didn’t flirt with that damn receptionist. I can’t risk it. I’m not turning around.
I can feel his eyes on my back as he walks behind me.
My subconscious is in a state of turmoil.
My hopeful side is screaming, “Turn around!”
But my cautious side is intoning, “You saw how he talked to that girl who’s a hundred times better looking than you. Don’t be stupid. Use your head. Don’t get caught up in some romantic delusion that doesn’t exist. You don’t need more heartache in your life. Just let him go. If he wants you, he’ll make a move.”
I’m a chicken. I let my cautious side bully me into submission. I don’t move a muscle. I look straight ahead. My shields are up. No one can break down the walls I place around myself.
And he keeps walking. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t say a word to me. No tap on the shoulder. No ‘Hey, how are you doing?’ Absolutely nothing.
It hurts. It really does. I hate it when I’m right.
As I’m reeling inside from the consequences of my non-action, Dad returns and sits beside me, handing his insurance card to the hospital worker.
“Is that all you’ll be needing?” he asks the woman.
I want to scream, “Yes, Adam is all I will ever need, but he just walked by like I don’t exist!”
It is hard to keep up with my range of emotions. One minute I feel comfortable and elated when talking with him in the ambulance. The next I am in despair, feeling utterly rejected. How can so much happen in a few hours? My life is one boring day after another. Nothing like this remotely happens to me. Why does it have to be all crammed into one day?
I continue to sit in silence, shell-shocked. Dad, as usual, is not making the slightest effort at conversation when a boisterous voice booms from behind us. It is Adam’s co-worker from the ambulance along with the other paramedic.
“You folks, okay?” he asks. He has such a pleasant, easy-going manner. Adam is lucky to have someone like him as his mentor.
“Oh, we’re fine. Thanks for all that you did for Grandma. We really appreciate it,” I answer, with a smile.
Dad looks at them and says nothing.
Used to overcompensating, I plunge ahead, “Are you guys done for the night, or do you have to head back out?”
“We’re all done. We just brought another accident victim in, so that’ll be a wrap for us. I know Tommy and I are glad that everyone’s going to be okay,” he says, looking at his partner. “We’re gonna be heading out now. You both have a good night.”
They each shoot me a sympathetic look. I don’t know if it’s for Grandma’s well-being or Dad’s lack of manners. It’s a toss-up.
I watch them walk away. They are my last link to Adam. Another chapter closes before it has the chance to begin.