Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (whitelam books txt) 📗

them, didn't pick them up, but allowed his eyes to skim over her life's history in still photos.

He could figure out which man was her husband, and there was one group photo of the two of them surrounded by children. Then there were the senior portraits of the four boys. Wedding photos. Grandchildren.

Tony's lips felt dry; he licked them.

A feeling came to him, one he didn't immediately recognize. Then he defined it.

Envy.

He envied Elsie Fisher her full life, her marriage. Her children and her grandchildren.

Tony wanted kids. He hadn't wanted them with Kim. But just because they were getting a divorce didn't mean he was giving up on the idea of being a father. He wanted a child of his own, one that was his. As much as he loved Parker, he wanted to be more than a weekend dad.

He wanted a son. Or a daughter. He didn't care.

The problem was, he didn't have a woman in his life. He'd have to be in love, committed to a forever future to create a baby.

He'd also have to be remarried.

Right now, he couldn't think about that.

After five minutes of conversation, the paramedics coaxed Elsie to agree to the hospital and readied her for transport.

A gurney was brought in, following behind was one of the staff nurses. Tony knew her, the whole station did.

Alisa had a thing for firefighters—especially Tony.

He couldn't remember her last name even though she'd brought him cookies on several occasions. Once she even came by the firehouse with a deli platter.

She was okay-looking, no great beauty. But it wasn't her appearance that had made him keep his distance in the past—and would continue to do so now that he was going to be single. The way in which she'd thrown herself in his path, knowing that he wore a wedding ring— or used to, anyway—turned him off.

"Hi, Tony," she said, her voice slightly out of breath as if she'd been on the other side of the facility when she'd heard Station 13 had come on a call to a patient's room.

"Hey, Alisa."

"Oh, Mrs. Fisher." Wrinkles of concern formed on her forehead as she lifted her eyebrows. Her brunette hair was swept into a soft ponytail that contrasted with her starched nurse's smock. She was probably in her mid-twenties. "I had a feeling it was her."

Tony stepped out of the way as the gurney rolled past him. Elsie lay strapped in with her purse propped on top of her stomach, both her hands over the closure.

"Are all these good-looking men coining to the hospital, too?" she asked as they pushed her through the door.

Alisa held back, watching as Tony put away the pulse ox and cuff in his medical bag. He hitched the strap on his shoulder and took precautions not to bump into anything on his way out of the room.

"I saw you at Albertson's the other day, but you were leaving as I was driving into the parking lot." Alisa followed him out the resident door. "I waved but you didn't see me. Have you been busy tonight?"

"A little."

She trailed after him down the carpeted hallway. The gear in his bag rubbed together, made his footfalls sound heavier than they were.

Alisa had to be barely five foot one. He towered over her as she kept up with his long stride.

"Have you been called to Spring Brook tonight?"

"Not yet. I hope we aren't."

He caught her eyeing his wedding-ring finger and the lack of a ring on it.

"How's your wife?"

"Fine."

They passed the nurses' station and Alisa paused. "I guess I'll see you around, Tony."

"Yep." He exited the double glass doors as they whooshed open for him automatically.

Cold air hit his face as he stepped into the dark night that cloaked the trees and bushes in shadows.

The engine was parked out front at the main doors next to the paramedics' van. The guys were in the process of situating Elsie.

Tony put the medic bag away in the engine's lift compartment, then climbed into the cab. It felt strange, but exciting to be in command.

He was swinging up to become a driver, driving a set number of shifts to add to his checkoff sheet. He fit the headset over his ears and fired up the engine with a push of a button. A deep rumbling sound came to life, followed by an idle that was smooth and steady.

Tony liked being in control of the 450-horsepower diesel engine. His foot stayed on the brake as the cap- . tain and Wally pulled their seat belts on and secured their headsets.

Captain Palladino's voice came through the earpieces. "Did you switch the wigwags on coming down here?"

"Yeah."

Tony checked the buttons, glanced in his mirrors. There was always that slight bit of edgy nervousness that flickered in him for a second before he let the engine go.

Pulling out of the parking lot, he steered the big engine onto the road and cruised through the intersection.

Typing notes into the computer under the mellowness of a red light that didn't blind the driver, Captain Palladino commented, "Did you see that rookie medic they had with them tonight? I'll bet he's in for shit."

"IV drip?" Walcroft questioned.

"Probably."

Standard operating procedures to initiate rookies was stringing an IV line through the ceiling tiles of his room, leaking a small drip on him while he was trying to sleep.

Tony worked the steering wheel, turning the engine at a corner and applying pressure on the gas.

Less than a mile from the station, Captain Palladino said, "Dispatch, available in quarters."

Wally mentioned, "Pulp Fiction's on HBO tonight."

"I didn't see it in the lineup," Tony said through his microphone.

"The Latino HBO channel."

Tony snorted, "Jesus, Walcroft, you've watched it ten times."

"Only in English."

Captain Palladino inched his chin up as Tony approached the fire station. "If you scuff the tires on the curb when you pull in, you've got to clean all the toilets."

Walcroft cut in, "I say clean out the reefer with soap and water. C Shift forgot about some leftovers in there weeks ago—I can