8. Miles
CHAPTER 8
MILES
T he call came in at one a.m. Monday, one week after my breakfast with Sophie. We’d been sitting for a while, sipping strong coffee, when the radio crackled. Then came the address.
“Oh, God,” I groaned.
Sophie started the engine. “What?”
“Okay, you know how I told you every call’s life or death? Doesn’t matter how dull it sounds, or routine, or silly?”
“Yeah, of course.” She nosed us onto the road.
“Well, this call, right here? It’s the exception. This lady’s the worst kind of frequent flyer, something new every week, and it’s always BS. And half the time, she’ll insist on transport, so we’ll drive her to the hospital because her heart skipped a beat. I can’t decide if she’s a hypochondriac or if she’s just lonely, but either way, she’s a complete waste of time.”
Sophie checked her rearview. “So, what do we do?”
“Same thing we always do. Act like it’s real. Because, who knows, one day it might be. But I guarantee, tonight isn’t it. Dizziness in shower; patient suspects stroke . That’s vintage Katrina. Heart attacks. Strokes. Always one or the other, but no actual symptoms.”
Sophie drove us out to the quiet of the suburbs, to the same house from what felt like a hundred calls. Katrina was waiting in the front room, peeking out through the curtains as we came up the drive. I forced myself to relax, even slapped on a smile. Like most hypochondriacs, Katrina spooked easy, and the last thing I wanted was some big, crying scene. We’d get in, calm her down, then we’d be on our way.
“Be careful,” I told Sophie, as she raised her hand to knock. “She hates when she thinks we don’t believe her, or we’re upset that she’s calling again. It’s not worth the paperwork, if she complains.”
Sophie knocked, and Katrina opened the door. She looked fine, same as always, good color. Clear eyes. Sophie smiled, wide and bland.
“So, you’re experiencing some dizziness?”
Katrina swayed, though till now she’d been standing steady. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Could I sit down?”
“Yeah, of course. On the couch over there?”
Katrina went to the kitchen instead of the couch, and sat herself down at the dining table. She put her head in her hands, then sat up straight.
“I was just in the shower,” she said. “I got really dizzy. And my vision was blurry when I got out. I heard that could be a sign of MS?”
I choked back a snort. MS was a new one. And who called an ambulance for signs of MS?
“That could be a lot of things.” Sophie pulled out her blood pressure cuff. “Have you eaten today? Been staying hydrated?”
“I ate,” said Katrina. “Cold pasta salad. Could this be food poisoning? Or carbon monoxide?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Sophie slipped the cuff on and pumped it up. Katrina watched, nervous, bouncing her knee. She peered up at me and her thin lips went tight. Sophie checked the readout and flashed her a smile.
“Pressure looks good. Hey, I love your fridge magnets.”
Katrina’s knee stilled. “My magnets?”
“Those cute little bumblebees. Did you make those yourself?”
I fought the impulse to roll my eyes — again with the small talk? But I’d promised myself I’d be more patient with Sophie. Let her feel her own way, when it was safe to do so. And Katrina’s kitchen was safe enough, no other calls waiting. No need to rush.
“I did make them,” said Katrina. “And the cookie jar, too. I used to sell them, but…”
“But not anymore?” Sophie pulled out her stethoscope. “Would you mind leaning forward?”
Katrina leaned forward. Sophie listened to her breathing. When she leaned back again, her smile was gone.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
Sophie smiled. “You did great. Are you still feeling dizzy, or?—”
“No, not that.” Katrina pushed her chair back. She got to her feet. “This is wrong. I can’t do this. I need… I need…”
“It’s all right,” said Sophie. She reached for her arm. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll finish?—”
“ No! ”
I started forward as Katrina slapped Sophie’s hand away, but she fell back immediately and hid her face in her hands.
“Sorry! I’m sorry. But I don’t need… I’m fine.”
“Did I do something to upset you?” Sophie took a step back. “You can tell me. It’s fine. I won’t get offended.”
“It’s not you,” said Katrina. “Just, please, please…”
“What’s wrong?”
I’d seen this before. I waved Sophie back. What we were witnessing was a sea change, Katrina hitting her breaking point and fighting through. She had something to tell us, something hard, something true, but if we spooked her, she’d lose her nerve.
“John made me stop,” she said. “John — that’s my husband. He saw me selling my magnets and my jars and my bowls, and saving up money, and he smashed all my stock. I don’t need an ambulance. I need the police.”
I pulled out my radio to alert dispatch. Sophie guided Katrina back to her seat. She seemed calmer now she’d got the words out, still breathing hard, but she sat without protest.
“I’ve been calling 911 because he leaves when I do. But I didn’t want to report him, so— so…”
“It’s okay.” Sophie sat next to her and tried to catch her eye. “Has he been physically violent?”
“No, but…” Katrina bit her lip. She twisted her hands together. “He’s been breaking things, throwing plates. Yelling. He threw the remote one time, and it smashed the TV. But I went online, and I searched how to leave him, and it said leaving’s the most dangerous time. I don’t know how to leave him, or where to go, so whenever they’d answer, I’d make something up.” Her voice broke, and she dabbed at her streaming eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting your time. For calling you out here when I’m perfectly fine.”
“You did the right thing,” I said. “You got him out of the house. And the police have resources, and they’ll help you get out.”
“I must’ve called you a dozen times. You must all think I’m crazy.”
She’d called us closer to fifty times, and I’d thought that, and worse. But I shook my head. “I don’t think that at all.”
“I think you’re brave,” Sophie said. “You did what you had to do. And you’ve told us the truth now, so you can get help.”
We waited with Katrina until the cops came, in case her husband was lurking, waiting for us to clear out. The street seemed deserted as we headed back to the bus, but I saw Sophie scanning down the dark rows of houses. She got in the passenger side and I took the wheel.
“You did good,” I said, as we got moving.
Sophie didn’t say anything, just squinted up the street.
“The police will find her somewhere to go. There’s shelters, safe houses. She can start over.”
She bobbed her head, half a nod, but she didn’t seem convinced. And she still didn’t say anything, which wasn’t like her. We passed under a street lamp, and in its glow she seemed pale, her features all pinched like she’d smelled something bad. When we stopped for a light, I saw she was trembling.
“Let’s take a break,” I said.
“Now? It’s still early.”
“I need some more coffee. Don’t you want some too?”
Sophie only shrugged, but she didn’t argue. I radioed in we were taking fifteen, then I pulled over at the first donut shop. I ordered a coffee, Sophie got hot chocolate, and we sat by the window to sip our drinks. Sophie’s teeth chattered, and she clenched her jaw tight.
“She has a chance now,” I said. “That’s the best we could give her.”
Sophie stirred her hot chocolate, then sipped it and frowned. She took a sugar packet and dumped half of it in. Her hand was still shaking. I leaned over the table.
“Hey. You did good.”
She made a low huffing sound, a breathy dismissal. I couldn’t get her to look at me.
“I’m serious. You caught something no one else did. I never picked up on anything wrong.”
“I didn’t, either.” Sophie’s voice shook. “I was doing like you told me, trying to keep her calm. But all I was thinking was, what’s she so scared of? I was getting frustrated, the way she kept squirming.” She looked down at the table. “I missed it as well. I had no idea. I only asked about her magnets so she’d sit still.”
“Well, I’d have told her ‘you need to sit still.’” I hunched down in my chair to meet Sophie’s eye. “She could tell she was safe with you. That’s why she talked.”
“You really think?”
“Yeah, I do. You have a way of talking to people that makes them feel heard. Even with me…” I shut my mouth.
“What?”
I pulled back, embarrassed. I’d never meant to tell Sophie about losing Nick. I’d never told anyone, other than Brian. After the funeral, we’d piled in Dad’s van and driven up the coast till we ran out of road. Mom had said it was for a fresh start. So you don’t have to go back to school in September and be the kid whose brother died. After that day, she’d barely mentioned his name, and if anyone else did, she’d get up and leave. Especially if I did, because?—
“Miles?”
I cleared my throat. “Sorry. All I’m saying is, uh, you’re easy to talk to. Folks open up to you, like Katrina today.” And like me, last week. My neck went hot. “I don’t think she’d have said anything if we’d switched places. I think she saw you cared and she felt safe, and that’s why she picked you to ask for help.”
Sophie stirred her hot chocolate some more. She shook in more sugar. I tapped on the table to make her look up.
“Don’t you see how huge this is?”
She cocked her head. “Huge?”
“I’m admitting you were right. Remember I went off on you our very first shift, because you messed up my checklist with your chit-chat?”
Her lip curled. “Yeah.”
“Well, this is me saying you had a point. Your timing was off that day, breaking in on my flow, but you did make that driver’s day a little less scary. There’s value in that, so…”
“So…?”
“You’re going to make me say it?”
The ghost of a smile tugged at Sophie’s lips. “Yeah, go on. Say it.”
“Fine. You were right.”
Her smile widened. “And?”
“ And? Come on!”
“I was right, so that makes you…?”
I wagged a finger at her. “That does not make me wrong.”
“It doesn’t? You sure?”
“It means we both had a point, and I’m acknowledging yours. And maybe I should’ve done that from the start.”
Sophie chuckled. “I’ll take it.”
On impulse, I stuck out my hand, and she shook it. Her grip was steady, her smile bright and warm. That was her superpower: she was resilient. Whatever life threw at her, she found a way to keep smiling. I resolved not to let this job harden that out of her. I’d be there for her like a partner should be.
“Thanks for the break,” she said. “Want to get back now?”
We headed back to the bus and on with our shift, and the quiet felt different as we waited for our next call. Sophie wasn’t fidgeting. I wasn’t tense. When she covered a yawn, it didn’t annoy me. We were finding our rhythm, and it was a good one.
This could work, her and me, for all our rough start.