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“Our new EMT, correct? Charlie Saint,” he said, holding his hand out.
They were soon surrounded by firefighters, mostly men, but she did see a blond ponytail in the sea of faces, and it seemed like at least half of the last names were Saint.
They were all friendly and polite, but one guy did bring up the belly, encircling his own generous gut with his hands. “Weren’t youlargerthe last time you were here?”
The quizzical expression on his face amused Bridget, and she couldn’t help herself, bursting out laughing. “Yep, he’s two months old now.”
A chorus of, “Congratulations!” rang out.
“Do you want to see your office?” Charlie asked.
“Thanks, Chief Saint,” she answered, eager to leave the curious crowd behind.
“You don’t have to be formal. Charlie is good enough.”
When faced with the inventory of emergency supplies, she giggled nervously. “I guess I’d better reacquaint myself with everything.”
“Get settled first. Mike Saint and Devon Lyon are paramedics, and they’re both here today, so you won’t be alone if anything comes up.”
The wordsif anything comes upgave her a shot of adrenaline. She took her backpack and set it aside, not wanting to unpack her breast pump in front of the chief.
“Okay, thank you,” she said, wishing he’d walk away.
Once he was out of the room, she went to work, setting up her emergency bag with everything she’d need out in the field.
It wasn’t five minutes before a tone went off. Bridget went out into the garage, where the monitor from dispatch resided, and read the screen; it was an automatic alarm. The automated voice rang out over the speaker system.
“Engine 4, engine 12, wagon 2, ladder 17, squad 4, rescue 1: Respond to an automatic fire alarm, Pasqual Valley Parkway and Canyon Road.”
Seconds later, central dispatch called, “Cancel that call. It’s a first-floor smoke alarm that the homeowner set off cooking.”
The rest of the morning was quiet except for a small brush fire and a call regarding a serious multi-vehicle accident. Going with the team for the accident on her first run made the next hours fly by.
Once back at the station, she did her part helping to put the equipment away but was increasingly aware of a familiar sensation that meant she needed to use the breast pump. The lavatory, she discovered, was not a place she wanted to do the deed and, furthermore, was unisex. She’d have to pump in the supply office during lunch. She went to the chief’s office and tapped on the door.
“I’m going to have lunch in the office,” she said. “But I need to, um, use my breast pump, so I’ll lock the door.”
She later said she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as the color moved up his face, and it was apparent he was trying to avoid looking at her chest, so he looked at her forehead, then the floor, and finally out the window.
“Okay, good idea,” he said, scratching his face. “We should have a safe place for you to do…that.” He made a swirly motion with his hand over his chest, and she couldn’t help it, barking out a laugh.
“The supply office is fine as long as you don’t mind. I’ll let Mike and Devon know I’m still available.”
“Of course I don’t mind. You don’t need to tell them anything.” He nodded and looked away. “Take a lunch break.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Lowering her head, she quickly took off for the supply office with her bag, afraid she’d start laughing again.
The day went quickly, and at four, Connie, her relief, came in. She packed up her backpack and her little cooler, where she kept her breast milk on ice.
“Oh, yes, I remember doing that. Only my kid is almost fifty and I didn’t have an electric pump in those days. We used a thing that had a rubber bulb on the end of it. I didn’t save my milk either; it went down that drain in the middle of the garage.”
“You must have been here longer than anyone,” Bridget said.
“You know, I have been,” she said, looking off into space. “Big Mike Saint started about the same time I did, but he’s ready to retire. I’m not going anywhere for a few more years.”
“I haven’t met him yet. I met Tony this morning, and Charlie is the one who hired me.”
