“Not this time. I just need you at the med tent. It’ll be set up in the First Baptist Church parking lot.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Marsha?” Laura Jo called as she and Allie opened the door of her best friend’s apartment Wednesday afternoon.
“Hey, we’re back here,” a voice came from the direction of the kitchen area located in the back of the apartment.
She followed Allie down the short hallway to find Marsha and her son, Jeremy, decorating a wagon with purple, green and gold ribbons.
Marsha looked up as they entered. “You know Mardi Gras almost kills me every year. I say I’m not going to do anything next year then here I am, doing even more.”
Allie had already joined in to help Jeremy with the decorations.
“I know what you mean. It makes working in the ER interesting. I’ve enjoyed my day off but I’ll pay for it, no doubt, by being on the night shift. I appreciate you letting Allie spend the night.”
“It’s not a problem. I love her like my own.” She ruffled Allie’s hair.
Laura Jo had met Marsha at the Mothers Without Partners clinic. Phil had lived up to all her father’s predictions and more when he’d left her pregnant and cleaned out their bank account to never be seen again. Even after all these years he hadn’t even checked to see if he had a son or daughter. Marsha’s husband had died in a fishing accident. She and Marsha had hit it off right away. Circumstances had brought them together but friendship had seen to it that they still depended on each other.
They’d shared an apartment for a few months and had traded off their time watching the kids while the other had worked or gone to school. They had their own apartments now but in the same complex and Marsha was more like family than the one Laura Jo had left behind.
They had joined forces to help other mothers who didn’t have anyone to fall back on. They had convinced the city to sell them an old home so these women would have a place to live and receive help while they were getting their lives in order. The deadline to pay for the house was looming. Finding the funding had become more difficult than Laura Jo had anticipated.
Marsha announced, “I heard from the city contact. He said we had to move soon on the house or the city will have to announce it’s for sale. They can’t hold it forever.”
Laura Jo groaned. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “How much time do we have?”
“Week or two. At least until things settle down after Mardi Gras. We’ve got to come up with a good way to raise a lot of money. Fast. I know you don’t want to do it but you do have the contacts. Maybe you could put on a party dress and go pick the pockets of all those society friends you used to hang around with.”
Laura Jo shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. We’ll have to find another way.”
What if she had to face her mother and father? Worse, have them see her asking for money. That’s what they had thought she’d be doing if she married Phil. That’s what he’d wanted her to do, but she’d refused. After her fight with her parents she and Phil had gone to Las Vegas that night to get married.
When they’d returned Phil had left to work on an oil rig. Three weeks later he’d come home. A week later all his pay had gone and he’d admitted he’d been fired. He’d made noises about looking for a job but in hindsight she didn’t think he’d ever really tried. Things had got worse between them. The issue that finally snapped them had been Laura Jo telling him she was pregnant. Phil’s snarling parting words were, “I didn’t sign on for no kid. You can’t put that on me. Having you is bad enough.”
Marsha gave her questioning look. “You know I’m kidding but …”
“I’ll come up with something.” She checked her watch. “Now, I have to get to the hospital.” Stepping toward Allie, Laura Jo said to Marsha, “I’ll meet you at the parade tomorrow evening.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Laura Jo leaned down and kissed Allie on the head. “See ya. Be good for Marsha.”
“I will,” Allie replied, then returned to what she was doing.
“Thanks, Marsha.” Laura Jo called as she went up the hall.
Six hours later, Laura Jo was longing for her dinner and a moment to put her feet up. She wasn’t going to get either anytime soon. Working in a trauma one level hospital meant a constant influx of patients, not only the regular cases but Mardi Gras’s as well, which brought out the revelers and daredevils. Weekend nights were the worst and the place resembled a circus with not enough clowns to go around. Everyone had their hands full. The doors were swishing open regularly with people coming in. The constant ringing of the phone filled the area, blending with the piercing scream of ambulance sirens.
As she stepped back into the nursing station the phone rang again. Seconds later the clerk called out, “Incoming. Sixty-seven-year-old male. Heart attack. Resuscitating in transit. Child with head trauma behind that. ETA ten.”
“I’ll take the heart. Trauma six.” Laura Jo hurried to set up what was needed before the patient arrived.
Minutes later the high-pitched sound of the ambulance arriving filled the air and Laura Jo rushed outside. The double rear doors of the vehicle stood wide open. Usually by this time the EMTs would be unloading the patient.
Looking inside, she immediately recognized the EMT working over the patient but not the other man. Then she did. Mark Clayborn. Again he was wearing red biking shorts and a yellow shirt of a first responder.
Mark held the portable oxygen bubble away from the patient as the EMT placed the defibrillator paddles on the patient’s chest. The body jerked. The beep of the machine monitoring the heart rate started and grew steadier. Putting the earpieces of the stethoscope that had been around his neck into place, Mark listened to the man’s heart. “Let’s get him inside,” he said with a sharp tone of authority. He then made an agile jump to the ground, turned toward the interior of the ambulance and helped bring out the patient on the stretcher.
Although confused by why he had been allowed in the emergency vehicle, she still followed his lead. It was against policy to ride in the back unless you were part of the EMT staff. But now wasn’t the time for questions. She stood aside while the two men lifted out the stretcher. The wheels dropped to the pavement and Laura Jo wrapped her hand around the yellow metal frame and pulled. Mark kept his fingers on the pulse point of the patient’s wrist while the EMT pushed.
They had reached the doors when Mark said, “We’re losing him again.”
Tall enough to lean over and push on the patient’s chest, he began compressions. Another nurse met them and gave oxygen. Laura Jo kept moving ahead, her arm burning. To her relief, they got the patient into the trauma room. There Mark and the EMT used the defibrillator once again. Seconds later the monitor made a beep and the line went from straight to having peaks and valleys. After they gained a steady pulse, she worked to place leads to the monitors on the patient. The ER doctor rushed in.
Mark and the EMT backed away with exhausted sighs, giving the ER doctor, Laura Jo and the other staff members space to work. For the next twenty intensive minutes, Laura Jo followed the ER doctor’s instructions to the letter. Finally they managed to stabilize the patient enough to send him to surgery.
Laura Jo had to talk to the family. They must be scared. When she asked the admission clerk where they were she was told exam room five.
“Why are they in an exam room?”
“The man’s granddaughter is being evaluated.”
Laura Jo headed for the exam room. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Mark was there, too. He came out as she was preparing to go in.
“Well,