Chapter 6 Thomas
THOMAS
Sliding the pair of Captain America boxers up my legs, I chuckle to myself.
My brothers have teased me about this since I was a kid, but it works like a charm.
Every time I need a little bit of good luck, or think something good is going to happen in life, or just need good vibes for the day, I throw on a pair of superhero boxers.
It’s not just one pair. I have a few that I cycle through, and over the years, I’ve had to get new ones, but they’ve never lost their power.
Some may say it’s the placebo effect, but I think it’s good old-fashioned manifestation.
They’ve never steered me wrong, though. The day I was accepted to the police academy?
I had on Hulk boxers. The day I got Arson?
Iron Man. The list goes on and on, and it’s not just me that gets the good luck.
The day Andrew met his now-wife, Josie, I wore them.
I wasn’t sure why, but something about the day compelled me to wear them, and look at the two of them now.
Happily married with their first baby due soon.
I can keep going, but honestly the boxers prove themselves every time.
Which is why I’m wearing them today. We both are on shift, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to see her.
I’m not asking Hannah out yet, but I want to test the waters with her.
Maybe flirt a little, and see what happens.
If I don’t get a good reading on her, then I won’t ask her out, but with me wearing the boxers, I think it will be a good day.
I load up Arson into the backseat of my police cruiser, and get ready to start the day. I have a renewed sense of excitement about going to work today.
After a call with the FBI to discuss the potential of bringing them in to aid in the ongoing trafficking situation, I get on the road. There was a lot of discussion about attempting to get some undercover guys in there and really see what happens on the inside.
The start of my shift is nothing special, a few traffic stops, and one domestic disturbance that turned out to be a dog barking excessively. My radio beeps an incoming call, and I hone my attention to it.
“Elderly male, eighty-six, fall, no injuries, just needs an assist to stand. Location, Park Woods Independent Living.”
And just like that, my mood drops. Because that’s where Gramps lives. I know it’s him. Goddammit. We’ve been telling him to stop being so goddamn stubborn and start using a walker when he gets tired.
“1831 responding,” I say through gritted teeth into the radio. Fire would usually respond before police in a situation like this, but knowing it’s Gramps has me responding anyway.
“Copy that. Officer?” the dispatcher says with a questioning tone.
“Yes?” I respond.
“He said he’s fine, if that’s any consolation. Just needs you to help him stand. He used his life-alert.”
Well, that’s one positive. He’s been refusing to wear it lately, but who knows how long he would be on the floor if he didn’t have it on.
“Copy. Thanks.”
Another voice radios in. “Unit thirteen responding to assist.”
Hannah.
Her voice is soft, but strong at the same time. She’s secure in her work, never has been timid or shy when it comes to her job. It’s something I can appreciate about her.
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
At least if he was lying about potential injuries, I’ll have other professionals to back me up in convincing him to take a ride to the hospital. Like I said, he’s a stubborn man.
Less than five minutes later, I’m throwing my vehicle in park outside of the independent living facility. I leave the car and the air conditioning running for Arson, and tell him I’ll be back shortly.
I run through the automatic doors and head down the hall toward Gramps’ room. A few of the residents move out of the way as I shuffle down the hall. When I reach his door, I knock once and push inside. “Gramps?” I call as I glance quickly around the kitchen.
“In the bedroom,” his low voice calls.
I rush down the hall to find him sitting on the floor beside his bed. He looks unharmed, and honestly, a little content to be sitting on the floor. “Causing trouble again, I see?” I ask with the little humor I can manage to muster right now.
“As always, kid,” he says. I crouch down in front of him, glancing over his aged body to assess him for any injuries. He looks okay. He’s in his long pajama pants and white undershirt, white-gray hair a tousled mess from sleep.
“Hurting anywhere?”
He shakes his head. “I told that nice lady that talked to me on my fancy necklace that I was okay, and to tell you not to worry.”
“She told me,” I tell him. “You know I’m not going to not worry, though.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I know. Worth a shot, kiddo.”
“Seriously, Gramps. Do you hurt anywhere? Hips? Arms? Legs?” I insist.
“Just my ego,” he says, slightly defeated.
“EMS!” A booming male voice calls from the door.
“Back here!” I yell.
The shuffling footsteps and swishing of pant legs gets louder with each step they take toward the bedroom door. Miles enters first, with Hannah close on his heels. They both have blue medical gloves on their hands, first aid bags resting on their shoulders.
“Mr. Cunningham,” Miles greets him. “Pleasure to see you again, wish it were under better circumstances.”
“You too, kiddo,” Gramps says.
I step back to let them do their jobs, all while trying not to stare at Hannah. She has her hair in a braid, and a few stray pieces are falling into her freckled covered face. My fingers twitch in my pocket to reach out and push them away for her.
“Earl, are you having any pain anywhere?” Hannah asks as she takes a set of vitals.
“Nope,” Gramps states. “Though my heart hurts a little.”
“Your heart?” she asks, grabbing her stethoscope to listen. My own heart rate picks up. Why didn’t he say anything sooner? Is his pacemaker not working? “Are you having any shortness of breath?”
“No, I’m fine. My heart hurts knowing that Tommy is lonely,” Gramps says with a dramatic sigh, clutching at his chest.
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Gramps, you can’t joke about your heart.”
He waves me off. “Pish posh. I just want my grandson to find someone. Say, Hannah is it?” he asks, pointing at her name badge.
Hannah laughs a little uncomfortably. “Yes, that’s my name.”
“Are you single, Hannah? You’d be perfect for Tommy.”
She coughs, and her cheeks flame red. “Gramps,” I scold, widening my eyes at him and slashing a finger across my throat to try and get him to stop.
He simply chuckles, ignoring me. “It’s okay if you’re not. Do you have any single friends, or a sister, perhaps?”
Hannah chokes on a soft laugh. “My sister is married, and I don’t have many friends, Earl.”
“Does that mean you’ll volunteer?”
“Jesus, Gramps.” I rub my face. “You can ignore him, Hannah.”
Thankfully, Miles saves us both from this awkward interaction. “Well, Earl, if you’re not having any pain, should we help you get standing?”
“Yep,” Gramps says as Hannah takes the blood pressure cuff off.
“Everything looks okay?” I ask her.
She turns to face me, a soft smile on her lips. “Yeah. His blood pressure is slightly elevated, but I think that could be from the stress of the fall. Once we get him settled in his chair, I’ll check it again.”
Miles and Hannah wrap a transfer belt around his waist and help him into a standing position, where he uses a walker to get over to his chair.
He doesn’t use his walker often, but maybe he should be using it more now.
I get him a glass of water, and after a few minutes, Hannah checks his blood pressure, giving me a thumbs up when it’s normal.
Gramps declines any new pain with movement, which makes me feel better.
His fall could have been a lot worse, and it has been worse in the past, so I’m glad this was easily handled. “Gramps, I should get back out on the road. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
He waves me off. “I’ll call your dad and bug him. Or I’ll call one of your brothers. You’re working.”
I sigh. “I know, but still.”
Hannah checks in with Gramps one last time before they pack up their things. I give Gramps a quick hug, and then leave him alone in his apartment. I hate leaving him, but I’ll send one of my brothers over to sit with him. Maybe Jase can bring his girls over to spend some time with him.
I pull out my phone and send a message in the family group chat with an update, and already, my dad says he will head over. I let out a sigh of relief and tuck my phone away.
“Thanks guys,” I tell Hannah and Miles as we reach the ambulance and my vehicle.
Hannah smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “It’s our job, Thomas.”
“I know, but still. Thanks for putting up with him asking all about your personal life.” I wave a hand. “He can be… a lot, but he means well.”
She shakes her head. “It was sweet. My grandma is the same with me.”
“Glad to know I’m not alone.”
Miles claps me on the shoulder. “I’m happy he’s okay. The last call I had with him as a patient was not a good one.”
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Nope, that was not a good day.”
“He came back strong though,” Miles replies.
“Yes he did.” The memory of seeing Gramps in the hospital after brain surgery assaults my mind. I never want to see him like that again. I know he’s getting up there in age, but in my mind, he’s going to live forever, even though that might not be the case.
“We should probably get going,” Miles states, gesturing to the front of the ambulance.
“Same. I’ll see you guys at the next one,” I state, offering them both a wave.
I'll likely see them again today, or in the next day on another call. Starting the day off with Gramps falling was not ideal, but I think once I get my head back into gear, I can get a feel for Hannah.
Gramps definitely interfered a bit, but who knows, maybe it will work in my favor?
I spend the rest of the day secretly hoping for a medical call so I have the chance to see Hannah again, and when one doesn’t come, my spirits fall a bit. For a second, I think that maybe my superhero underwear has lost its touch, but then, I realize that the day isn’t over yet.
I pull into the driveway as my idea fully forms in my head. If I can start a conversation with her, who knows where it will go? Grabbing my phone from the center console, I start a new message to her.
Me
Hey Hannah
I wanted to say I was sorry for my Gramps earlier. He can be a lot, but he really does mean well.
I wait for a beat, hoping she responds right away. She doesn’t, but I don’t let my hope fade. She’s probably just getting home from work too, and might not be on her phone.
It was a long day today, I had a meeting with Henry, and they’re considering bringing in the FBI for the drug trafficking investigation. We have a few guys who are also in training for some undercover work, so it seems like things are finally happening with the investigation.
I feed Arson and stare at my phone sitting on the kitchen counter, almost willing it to buzz with a new message. A few more minutes go by until my phone finally buzzes.
Hannah
No need to apologize, really. He’s adorable.
Okay, breathe. No need to panic or get too excited. I need to keep her talking. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with a woman I’m interested in, so I’m out of my game.
Me
He’s the best.
I try to come up with something else to say, but she responds quickly, the bubbles appearing and another message taking their place before I have a second to think of something,
Hannah
He seems like it.
Time to change the subject, keep her talking.
Me
How was the rest of your day?
The bubble appears and disappears a few times as I change out of my work clothes and into a pair of sweats. I flop down onto the couch as I wait for a message back.
Either she’s typing a novel, or she doesn’t know what to say. In the times I’ve interacted with her, she’s pretty tight-lipped, so maybe she just doesn’t know what to say.
Hannah
It was fine. We had a stroke code, and a few other calls, but nothing too bad. You?
I let out a sigh of contentment. She’s keeping the conversation open.
Me
Lots of traffic stops. Pulled over one of my teachers from elementary school for going seventy in a fifty-five today. That was a blast from the past.
Hannah
I bet that was funny. Did you give them a ticket?
Me
Had to. She got a warning a week ago from a different cop, in the same spot.
Hannah
Are you serious?! You would think she’d learn
Me
Definitely not
I have a lot of repeat offenders, believe it or not
Holy crap. It’s working. She’s talking to me. Granted, it’s about work, but still. How can I keep it going, maybe change the subject? Maybe I should ask about her sister. She said she was married earlier, didn’t she?
Arson climbs onto the couch, plopping his head into my lap and snuggling in. I offer him a few head scratches while waiting for Hannah to reply.
Hannah
We have a few frequent flyers too, they call any time they breathe weird, or have a sniffle.
Me
Definitely the worst. I know I’ve seen some stuff in my time, but you guys see way worse.
Hannah
Weirdly, I’ve gotten used to it.
Me
Same.
Now’s the time. Change the subject, keep the conversation going.