I can’t quite read the expression on Graham’s face, which is only makes me more nervous. Does he think it’s weird that I looked into this? Does he hate the idea? We’ve just barely decided to give us a shot, so does he think I’m overstepping?
Finally, heaving a sigh, he says, “I love that you looked into this, Sunny, but I just don’t think it’s the right time.”
“But you want to?” I ask. “If you felt it was the right time, you’d want to go back to school and take the classes?”
“Well, yeah, but?—”
“No but,” I cut him off, my lip curling into a grin. “You aren’t doing this alone anymore, Graham. I’m here, and I want to help.” Swallowing thickly, I add, “You deserve to chase your dream, Graham. You’ve wanted this for so long, and you deserve to put yourself first for a little bit. You can do this, and you should.”
“Wow,” he breathes out. “Thank you. Saying that means so much to me.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“Well, hold up.” He chuckles. “I think it would be smart to at least wait until the baby is here to make any big decisions, but it’s definitely something I’m going to consider.”
“That’s fair,” I say. “But just know, I’m serious. Between the two of us, and your family, we can make this work.”
“Thank you, Charley.” His voice cracks, and I feel it in my chest.
After we finish eating, we get in the truck and Graham drives us home, but before we make it there, he surprises me with one more stop.
“What’re we doing here?” I croak when I realize where we are. Smiling, he rounds the truck and opens my door for me.
“Thought a little trip down memory lane would be fun,” he murmurs as he leans in and kisses my forehead.
Taking my hand in his, Graham leads us through the rows of sunflowers, to the spot we used to always hang out when we were younger. My parents still live right next door, but for some reason, I haven’t been back to this field since I went off to college. This was always my place, but eventually, it becameourplace, and coming back alone, with all the memories made here, just didn’t feel right.
Pressure builds behind my eyes when I see a blanket lying on the ground. “Did you do this?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He nods, meeting my gaze. “After I dropped Ellie Mae off with my dad. I know we probably can’t stay long because your back is probably killing you from the mini golf, and the ground wouldn’t be too comfortable for you, but I thought watching some of the sunset here together would be kind of nice.”
“It’s more than kind of nice.” My voice cracks, and my eyes get misty. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I peer up at him. “I love coming back here with you, Graham. Thank you, and not just for bringing me here, but for this whole evening. It’s been so much fun.”
Graham’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I know you’re nervous about taking this thing with us further, but Charley, I don’t have a single doubt that what we have is real. Taking you out, holding your hand in public, getting to show you how much I care…it’s what I want to do, so thankyoufor giving this a try.”
When his mouth presses against mine, my body melts in his arms. This kiss takes my breath away, has warmth spreading in my chest. It’s comfort, but also deep connection and a silent confession from both of us. I don’t know how long we stand in this field, making out like we used to when we were teenagers, but by the time we leave, the sun has faded, and I feel more at ease with our decision. It’s crazy how one date could do so much.
25
Charley, 30 weeks
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I ask Casey as she takes a right out of the hospital parking lot.
My stomach is in my throat, and my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since we got the call about a possible cardiac event. The patient wasn’t much older than my dad, and it reminded me how gut-wrenching it was when I found out about his last year. He’s the whole reason I decided to become an EMT in the first place. I remember feeling so helpless when it happened, and the first responders saved his life, and I just wanted to be able to be the person who saved somebody’s dad from dying one day too. I knew it was going to be hard the first time I responded to one of these calls, but my goodness, I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions it drudged up.
“I hope so,” Casey answers softly as she drags her gaze over to me. “With this type of thing, it could go either way, but he’s in good hands.”
I’m gnawing on the inside of my cheek. The overwhelming urge to pull out my phone and call my dad to make sure he’sokay is almost too strong to ignore, but I’m able to push past it, reminding myself that it’s the anxiety talking. Reminding myself that just because I think it, it doesn’t make it true. I can’t even count the number of times I called my mom in a panic, sometimes multiple times a day, over the months following his heart attack. It wasn’t healthy, nor was it doing either of us any favors.
I haven’t opened up with Casey, or anyone else on my team, about my reasoning for becoming an EMT. Part of me wants to for the simple fact that we work so closely and spend an enormous amount of our time together, but another part of me doesn’t because I’m worried it’ll make me seem like a flight risk in their eyes. Like, at any minute, I could take a call that sends me into a spiraling breakdown. And I mean, thatcouldhappen, but I’d like to believe I’m strong enough to separate work from reality. It took me a long time to realize my anxiety isn’t a weakness, but clearly, I’m still holding on to some of that.
“Does it ever get easier?” I ask. “Dropping patients off at the hospital and never knowing the outcome?”
“Yes and no,” she offers. “Some calls stick with you and hit you harder than others. There have been calls where I’ve followed up with the hospital later about the status of the patient. By definition, you are on the patient’s care team, which means you’re entitled access to their protected health information, within reason. But yes, I would say, for the most part, it gets somewhat easier over time.”
That’s reassuring, especially considering I haven’t even responded to any truly horrific calls yet. I can only imagine the way I’ll be feeling after something like that.
After we get back to the station, Casey gets started on the patient care report—a required document that details the patient’s condition, treatments, and transport—while I clean the stretcher and ambulance. Our shift ends soon, and I can’t waitto get home. I’m finishing wiping everything down when Casey comes around the corner, handing me a bottle of water.
