Page 3 of Too Much Heat

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Lara jumped on the treadmill and forced herself to calm. She’d been inappropriate with her commanding officer but left his office before she went too far.

It was just that he was such a man’s man. And, she had to admit, afirefighter’s firefighter. He always knew what to do when they went on a call. But Lara was so sick of men complicating her life, like they’d done in the fire academy and now on her first job. She was determined to make firefighting her successful career.

She was thinking about that when the PA crackled. “EMS call at 45 Baker Street. Possible stroke. Engine 1 go into service.”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” Romano called out as they all entered the bay.

Lara jumped into her turnout pants and boots that were set up in front of the rig, grabbed her turnout coat from a hook in the bay and was the first in her seat.

Once they were moving, Captain Romano read his tablet. When they pulled up in front of the house, he said, “Swanson and Trent, stay alert. This looks routine but it could be life or death. And no turnout coats. It’s a bitch of a summer out there.” The wore navy fire department T-shirts with their uniform pants.

They hopped off the truck and strode up to the porch. Romano knocked, called out, “Fire department” and went inside; the screen banged behind them.

He took one look at the man on the floor. The attack was over but signs were evident. He grabbed for his radio. “Ambo needed at this address.”

He turned to the family. “Can you tell us what happened?” he asked the woman who was visibly shaken.

“He was coming back to the couch from the kitchen and grasped his left arm then fell to the ground.”

Joe said to Lara, “Go ahead, Swanson. Assess him.”

Lara dropped to her knees. “Face drooping on left side. Sir, can you stretch out your arms?”

The guy mumbled something unintelligible. “Speech is impaired.” She waited until the man raised his hands. “Left arm is drifting.”

“What do you say, Pike?”

Abe Pike was a paramedic in their group at Engine 1. “Right on the nose.”

The screech of sirens indicated that the ambulance had arrived out front. In sixty seconds, the EMS guys rushed in.

Pike bent down to help them get the patient on the stretcher. Lara followed suit because they needed another person to lift the burly man.

When the victim was wheeled out, Romano stayed inside.

The wife asked, “Did he really have a stroke?”

“All signs indicate that. But it was good news that he could lift his arms. That means there was no paralysis in the upper body.”

“I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Do you have transportation to Westwood Memorial?”

“I don’t, but my brother’s on his way over. I already called him.”

They waited until the brother arrived, updated the man, then left. The sun’s rays beat down on them as they took the stairs off the porch and headed to the rig. Once they were on their way, the captain said, “Let’s debrief.”

Oh, boy. She wondered what he’d find wrong with what she did.

* * *

Joe drove into the long driveway and stopped halfway up. The big Victorian on a hill off Center Street loomed before him. Surrounded by a wrap-around porch and railing, it sparkled in the late-afternoon sun.

He exited his sporty Civic in the garage and the empty space next to him made him take in a breath. It was Jimmy’s space. Before sadness could overwhelm him, he walked into his house and threw his backpack on the kitchen island. He had a flash of him and Jimmy putting the counter in. His twin had feigned frustration.

Fuck, this is heavy.

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