She was in the passenger seat of the medic when I got there and I smiled.
I did not ride in the passenger seat if I wasn't in the back. I hated it. Not having control of the wheel literally drove me fucking nuts.
That'd also been why I'd requested this particular shift with another medic so I wasn't stepping on any toes with the basics who were usually the ones to drive.
"Do you want to take lead?" I asked.
She looked at me and nodded, pressing the button that let our dispatch know that we were in the medic and on our way.
Okay then.
Did she speak at all? I wasn't sure.
Thirty minutes later, I secretly thanked the good lord above that she'd volunteered to take the call.
I turned the sirens on and accelerated slowly, being careful not to go too fast in case my partner, Naomi, (I had to get her name from her name badge because she still hadn't told me) was standing up in the back.
Which was likely since she was about to catch the baby that was about to fly straight out of the patient's vagina.
Maneuvering the streets of Mooresville, I made my way hurriedly to the hospital while still obeying most of the traffic laws.
I was thanking my lucky stars, too. In the nine and a half years I'd been a paramedic, I had not had to deliver one single baby, and I would hopefully keep it that way.
"Shit!"
Uh-oh. That didn't sound good.
"Oh, my God. Did I just poop?"
I winced.
"Don't worry, baby," the father that was riding in the passenger seat responded to his laboring wife. "The doctor said that was normal." He turned to me and whispered, "That's normal, right?"
I barely contained the urge to laugh.
"Yeah," I confirmed. "From what I hear, it is normal."
The soon to be daddy nodded, comforted by my words, and returned his gaze back behind him.
Did I relay the amount of relief pouring through me at not having to deliver this child?
I could do anything.
Blood, gore, exposed bone. Decapitated heads. Gunshot wounds. Vomit. Piss. Shit. But childbirth? Hell fucking no. That squigged me out.
As we passed the last street before the turnoff to the hospital, I heard the woman on the cot give an almighty screech, and then a few moments later came Naomi's 'you have a baby girl' as I was pulling into the bay.
I grinned at the father, who looked as white as a sheet.
"Ready, Dad?" I asked him.
He nodded, opened the door, and promptly fell on his face.
Chapter 2
The closest I've come to double penetration is eating both Little Debbies at the same time.
-Text from Naomi to Aspen
Naomi
Oh, my God. Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God!
I was shaking. Literally shaking.
This had been my very first shift without a training medic either hovering at my side or available to ask questions-though, I was sure if I'd run into trouble the sexy man who was my partner would've helped.
Jesus Christ, but a man shouldn't be as sexy as him. It ought to be illegal, because I couldn't stop myself from staring at him.
Surely, I wouldn't be able to function like this much longer.
Oh, God. This place was supposed to get me away from hot men, not put me into close quarters with them!
I washed my hands thoroughly in the sink, splashed water on my face, and then pulled down eight paper towels before roughly scrubbing my face dry.
Holy shit, I'd just delivered a baby!
Once I was as composed as I was going to get at this point, I lifted my shirt up and checked out my new reality … at least for the next few months until I could have the surgery that would reverse it.
Testing to make sure the bag was secure, I sighed and tucked it back under the shirt that I wore to help hold it in place.
Then I tucked my clean shirt in, shoved my dirty one into a Wal-Mart sack and then deep into the depths of my backpack.
Once I had the backpack settled on my shoulders, I opened the door and frowned at seeing my partner there, standing with his back to me, staring at someone like his heart was being ripped in half.
Frowning, I walked up to his side and asked, "What's wrong?"
He jerked away from me like I'd scalded him with hot water, then cursed. "Sorry. Nothing is wrong. Why would you say that?"
The big man was lying to me.
I knew it with absolute certainty.
I studied his profile as he returned his gaze across the room. To a woman.
The woman was in front of the hospital reception desk standing next to a man that looked to be one of the doctors that worked there. She had long brown hair that was French braided down her back, and she was wearing a pencil skirt and a white flowy blouse that was tucked into the top. She had a wide black belt that covered her waistband, and I hated her instantly.
She was the type of woman who would look good wearing anything.
She probably wore her hair down to the gym, too.
"Who is she?" I asked as if he hadn't just lied to me.