Page 2 of Serve
“How do you like Hidden Creek so far?” She’d asked. He loved it, or at least he thought he did. When he was here visiting Aunt Dixie and Sue, he had a great time, but living in Hidden Creek was a different story.
He graduated from school a few weeks after Sue had passed. Instead of looking for jobs in Houston, he immediately sent his resumé to Hidden Creek Memorial Hospital. When they offered him the EMT job, he didn’t think twice about taking it.
Aunt Dixie was the only family he had left, and he wasn’t about to leave town just because he was lonely. He’d have to make the best of the situation.
He’d never had problems making friends before, but it seemed to be taking longer than it usually did. This was also his first job out of college. Seemed like people were more standoffish. Even folks his own age seemed to be on a tight schedule, always in a hurry. It made him wonder if he smelled bad, or something.
While sitting at a traffic light, Chip lifted his shirt collar and took a deep sniff. Nah, that wasn’t it. He’d just mowed the lawn, but he still smelled like soap. The light turned green, and he eased the truck forward.
“You’ve been here for over a month. Go to one of the coffee shops downtown this weekend. Stop hanging out at Aunt Dixie’s house. She’s right, you need to get out more.” He pulled into the employee lot, and hoped nobody noticed that he was the only one in his truck. If someone did, he could always pretend he’d been on the phone.
“Who the hell cares?” He mumbled as he climbed out of the front seat. He grabbed the thermos and his backpack and locked up. Jogging to the rear entrance of the hospital, he prayed he wasn’t late.
Hunter, a guy he had coffee with in the cafeteria occasionally, opened the door for him. The young physician assistant greeted him with a clap on the shoulder and a smile.
“Have a good day off?”
“Day off? Oh yeah, I did have one off. My aunt kept me busy in her yard. Talk to ya later, running late.” Chip raced down the narrow corridor, hoping to clock in on time.
“Six minutes late is nothing to shrug off Chip. This is your first job, you need to make a good impression. Please, make this your last time, okay?” Chip’s boss glared at the time clock.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, my aunt kept me talking, and…” Chip’s voice dropped to a whisper as his boss walked away. Damn it. Why the hell couldn’t he ever be on time? He’d been like this his whole life, always racing against one clock or another.
The door to the locker room opened. His partner, Sheila, held it open for him.
“C’mon, let’s go.” She smiled. Even though she’d been an EMT for a few years, they were both new to the hospital, but unlike him, she had her shit together. Never late, she was always peppy and cheerful. A perfect counterbalance to his brooding self.
“Sorry, got caught up at my... well, never mind.” He blushed, then walked through the door and found his locker.
When he closed it, he slammed it harder than he realized. The sound echoed throughout the room. He glanced up and saw Sheila’s normally perky features look serious for a change.
“Let’s get in the truck, then we can talk about it. The boss was pissed.” She whispered. Sheila rubbed his shoulder for a moment, then they headed out to the parking lot.
“What’s wrong? There’s got to be something going on, I can tell.”
“I’ve only been here for a month. You don’t know me that well.” Chip was whining, and knew it. Sheila saw him more than anyone else, including Aunt Dixie. She spoke the truth. He continued, minus the whine.
“You’re the second person today to tell me that. I guess I’m feeling lonely. I moved here to help Aunt Dixie out after Sue died. I guess I’m just missing my old friends back in Houston.”
“We’re not that far away. Take a weekend off and visit them. Dude, you could also try making some new ones. All I know is you can’t keep showing up for work late. Reviews are next month. You know Maria is going to clock you on it.” Sheila put her seat belt on and faced forward.
“I’ll be on time from now on, I swear I…” Chip began, then was interrupted by the radio.
Car accident in Moore Wood Park. It was only a few blocks from the hospital. Sheila flipped on the siren, and they raced out of the parking lot.
Chapter Two
Tyler
“OUT!”
The umpire shook his head at the coach. No, he would not overrule the decision. Tyler hid his smile as the short, middle-aged coach stomped his feet and sat down. His heart went out to him; the ball was clearly in, but the umpire was always right, no matter how wrong they actually were.
Tyler pulled his baseball hat low over his forehead, took off his aviator sunglasses, and wiped them on his sleeve. He didn’t want to be noticed by the teens playing the match, or by their parents watching from the sidelines. So far, he’d avoided detection. He dreaded the moment someone discovered him. William Tyler Florman, multiple grand-slam champion, on the bleachers watching kids spray balls everywhere but on the court. He didn’t want to distract the players for one thing. He also didn’t want to talk about his “career,” or the tattered shape it was in.
Tennis had been his grand passion. Cracking the ball cross court for a winner used to give him a high, a feeling of invincibility. Tennis was the perfect escape from him, and he’d taken it further than most kids ever dreamt of.
At a young age, he was shipped off to an expensive tennis academy in Florida. He would become a champion, and do what he loved every day. That was what his parents had told him, though he knew they wanted him out of their hair. It was a boarding school, so he spent all his time immersed in his favorite sport.
