“How about it, Lou?” questioned Toby, his eyes intense. “I could probably squeeze in a weekend occasionally.”
The young woman shook her head. “As tempting as that sounds, I have to decline. I'm happy just being a wife and mother. But I suppose we could get together and jam once in a while.”
Rick grinned. “Will your husband let you, sweetie?”
“I may be married, but Hank knows me enough not to tell me what to do,” chuckled Louisa. “He may be a Captain at work, but he lets me choose my own hobbies.”
The men laughed. “Hey! Who's hungry?” asked Gene. “Why don't we go get a pizza, like in the old days? Ask your friends to join us, Lou? I wanted to talk to Roy and John about the paramedic program. Sounds like an interesting job.”
Half an hour later, Louisa, her old band mates, and the crew were sitting at a table at the local Pizza Hut. Gene listened closely as Gage and Desoto described the paramedic program to him, sprinkling the facts with anecdotes about some of their more unusual calls.
“You actually had to cut that woman out of her girdle?” snorted the drummer, laughing until tears ran down his cheeks. “I bet that was a Kodak moment!”
“It was,” grinned Roy , taking another slice of pizza. “But that was nothing compared to the time the station was called out to an accident involving a truck carrying about a ton of marijuana,” he went on. “The stuff started burning and Chet and Johnny got a lungful of the smoke. They were walking around, completely spaced out from the fumes.”
“Oh, we've been there,” put in Toby. “Remember, Lou? We used to get stoned, watch old Godzilla movies, and yell at the TV. I wish we'd have had the foresight to set up a video camera to capture it.”
Louisa glanced at her husband to judge his reaction and giggled. “It's a good thing we didn't Tobe. A couple of my closest friends are cops. They'd narc on us and toss us in the pokey. At least we'd have a good lawyer to tell the judge we weren't guilty for reason of temporary insanity.”
“Temporary stupidity, more likely,” shot back Rick. “Good thing we never got into hard drugs like some people we used to know. Remember how Charlie Bennett ended up?” he asked solemnly. “Six feet under in a pine box. It's a shame, too. He was real talented until he got hooked on heroin.”
Johnny looked down at his plate. “We've seen plenty of drug-related cases over the years,” he said sadly. “I never could understand why some would abuse their body like that.”
“The same reason people turn to the bottle, my friend,” said Paul. “They're trying to escape or numb their inner pain. I had my own problems with alcohol in the past. It started right after my mother died. I was so broken up, I crawled into a bottle and didn't look back. I thank God I got into rehab before it killed me.”
“Your mom was a great lady, buddy,” said Louisa softly, reaching out to squeeze her friend's hand. “I wish I had known she was sick. I would have come back from Montana .”
“I was gonna call you, but Mom went downhill so fast, she was gone before I had the chance.”
Marco reached over and patted his sister's hand. “Just like Papa,” he said quietly. “He was alive one minute, and gone the next.”
Louisa shook her head and grinned. “Come on, you guys. What are we sitting around talking about death for? We're still kicking, and, in a few more months, Mikey here is gonna be a daddy. How's Lara doing, big brother?”
The engineer blushed. “She's doing all right, except for, and I quote ‘waddling around like a water buffalo'.”
The group burst out laughing. “I know exactly how she feels, Mikey,” giggled Louisa. “When I was pregnant with the twins, I wondered if I would ever see my feet again!”
“Patsy was the same way,” shared Gene. “When she was in labor with Mark, she told me she wouldn't ever let me near her again! As you can tell, the old Simpson charm is still working. Otherwise, Casey wouldn't be here.”
Toby snorted in derision and threw a slice of pepperoni at his friend. “You and your dubious charm,” he chuckled. “You're damn lucky she married you in the first place. Don't you remember the fight you two had when she thought you were fooling around with Danielle? You were blessed to get away with your hide in one piece, pal.”
The restaurant manager walked over to their table. “Sorry, folks, but we close in fifteen minutes. Thanks for dropping by.”
Hank glanced at his watch. “It's almost eleven o'clock , honey. Maybe we should get back and relieve your mother from the influence of our hellions. Good night, everyone.”
“I guess you're right, Hank. Rick, let me know when your next gig is. I plan to be in the front row, heckling the Hell out of you guys.”
“You got it, baby,” grinned Dunkirk . “It was good to see you again, kiddo. Keep in touch, huh?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
One Week Later
Johnny raced into the station, waving a thick envelope. “I just got the pictures back from Lou's show. Who wants to see them?!?” he shouted.
“What show?” questioned Chief McConikee, coming out of the office.
“Hey, Chief!” called Gage as he ran into the locker room to change. “Ask Cap!”
McConikee raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate, Captain Stanley?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “What's the crazy wife of your up to now?”
Hank smiled broadly. “I'll explain while you look at those photos, Chief,” he said. “Roll call, gentlemen! Line up!”
After making the day's announcements and handing out chores, the crew gathered in the dayroom. Johnny passed around the pictures he had taken while Hank explained to McConikee what they were.
“Are you kidding me?” laughed the Chief. “I'm going to have to ask her about that next time I see her.” He picked up one of the photographs and stared at it. “I have to admit, Louisa looks pretty good in tight leather pants. But what's with the hair-do?”
“That was the style back then, Chief,” said Marco. He looked out the window when a car pulled up outside. “Here comes Miss Rock Star now,” he grinned.
“Hi, guys. What's up?” said Louisa, coming into the station with Robert balanced on her hip. She frowned when the men burst out laughing. “What did I say?”
“Ignore them, honey. Gage was just showing us the pictures he took last week.”
The young woman's eyes widened. “Great,” she muttered. “Go ahead, fellas. Take your best shot. You're just jealous because none of you have the guts to get up on a stage and make a complete fool of yourselves,” she teased.
McConikee stood up and reached out to take Robert. “Maybe not, but we wouldn't look as good as you do, either,” he joked. “What was the name of your band, Louisa?”
Chet snorted and looked down at his coffee cup. “Brace yourself, Chief. It's a lulu,” he snickered.
Louisa bit her lip before replying. “Mute Nostril Agony,” she said finally, waiting for the laughter she was sure was coming.
“From an old Doors tune, right?” asked the Chief. At Louisa's nod, he went on. “I thought so. I was a big fan of Morrison and the boys back in the day. He was a very talented performer.”
Johnny stared at him in disbelief. “You like rock music, sir?” he gasped. “I had no idea.”
“I certainly do, Gage. I even spent a summer following the Grateful Dead around the country. Why is that such a surprise? I wasn't always an old fuddy-duddy, you know.”
“Somehow, I can't picture you in tie-dye, Pat,” giggled Louisa. “Where you a fan of Janis, too? We did one of her songs at our show.”
“You bet I was,” answered McConikee. “That little lady had an incredible voice. I still play her records from time to time. You didn't happen to videotape your show, did you?”
“As a matter of fact, Marcus, the guy who owns the club, had a crew there that night. I'll call him and ask him for a copy.”
“Just don't show it to Mama,” grinned Marco. “You give her a heart attack.”
“Very funny, big brother,” chuckled Louisa. “I wish I would have had a camera to capture your expression the first time you saw me dressed like that. I thought your eyes were gonna fall out of your skull!”
Before the Latino man could reply, the klaxons went off, calling the men out to a warehouse fire on the other side of town. They raced to their vehicles, leaving Louisa standing there with Robert.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hank's eyes widened in horror as Engine 51 pulled up in front of the blazing warehouse. He snatched up the microphone and called for a second and third alarm. As he climbed out of Big Red, a soot-covered man ran up to him, shouting incoherently.
“Slow down, fella,” instructed the Captain. “Okay, repeat what you just said.”
The man panted as he tried to catch his breath. “My gang is still in there!” he wheezed. “That old dump went up like a rocket. You gotta get them out!”
“All right, how many people are in there and where are they?” asked Hank calmly, already signaling to Gage and Desoto. “And what's your name?”
“Alex Brady,” answered the man. “There's six guys in there. They're all up in a room on the second floor. They're trapped!”
“Kelly, Lopez, take two inch-and-a-halves and cover Gage and Desoto. Breathing gear, everyone! Get to those people and get them out fast. This structure isn't gonna stand much longer the way it's burning.” He turned as McConikee jogged up. “Looks like we might have a case of arson on our hands, Chief,” he said quietly.
Chet and Marco grabbed their hoses and waited for Mike to charge the lines. As water spewed from the hoses, they advanced through the front of the building, Johnny and Roy right behind them. The intense heat from the fire penetrated their turn-outs and made it hard to breathe, even with their face masks in place. The four men moved slowly through the flames, finally reaching the staircase leading to the second floor. As they climbed, the sounds of faint screams reached their ears.
“ Roy , this way!” Johnny shouted over the roaring fire. He moved to the left, towards the cries for help. The paramedic darted out of the way as a section of the ceiling fell almost on top of him. “Damn!” he grumbled.
Roy pulled his handi-talkie out of his pocket and radioed his Captain. “HT-51 to Engine 51. Cap, we ‘re cut off. We're gonna need more manpower!” he bellowed.
Hank chewed his lip and waved to Stoker. “Mike, grab a pry bar and help them out. I'll man the controls for a while until the other stations get here.”
“Right, Cap,” replied the engineer, struggling with his SCBA tank and mask. He snatched the tool from the engine and ran into the burning structure. He quickly located his co-workers and set to work clearing away the debris. Flaming pieces of insulation fell around him as he labored to move a large chunk of drywall. He never heard the ominous creak of a wall giving way until it was too late.
“Mike!” shouted Marco. “Get out of there! The wall's unstable!” He sped forward to shove his friend out of the way, but was too late. A massive section of the wood paneling fell, burying Stoker underneath.
“Stoker!” shouted Roy and Johnny in the same instant. “HT 51 to Engine 51,” panted Desoto. “Stoker's hurt! Get some more men in here now !”
Hank blanched when he heard the roar from outside. Roy 's transmission echoed through his head, chilling his blood. He gestured to Brice and Bellingham , who had just arrived. “My crew's up on the second floor! We have a Code I! Get in there!”
The paramedics looked at each other and grabbed their equipment. They headed for the warehouse at a dead run, swiftly locating the fallen engineer. Mike was semi-conscious and mumbling under his breath as blood ran down his handsome face.
“What the Hell happened?!?” demanded Bellingham , quickly looking for a safe way to extricate the injured man.
“The wall gave way,” panted Chet, digging at the debris with his hands. “Damn it, Brice! Don't just stand there, man! Help me move this beam!”
Craig sprang into action and helped the Irishman lift the jagged length of wood. As they pushed it aside, Mike screamed in agony and passed out, his body limp and as still as death.
“Backboard!” called Roy , shoving it forward. The four paramedics lifted the unconscious Stoker onto it as Chet and Marco battled back the flames that were slowly creeping towards them.
“He's strapped down! Let's get the Hell out of here!” shouted Johnny, lifting the end of the backboard. “Kelly! Lopez! Come on! Forget about the fire. It's gonna flash!”
The firemen dropped their hoses and ran for dear life. As soon as the six of them passed through the door, the building exploded and collapsed with a heart-rending crash.
Brice dropped to his knees and flung back the lid of the bio-phone. “Rampart, this is Squad 16, how do you read?” he rasped. “Rampart, come in!”
“Squad 16, this is Rampart,” came the calm voice of Dixie McCall. “We read you loud and clear.”
“Rampart, we have a 33-year-old fireman, victim of a wall collapse. Stand by for vitals.” Brice snapped his fingers impatiently as his partner took the readings. “BP 92/46, pulse 120 and thready, respirations 15 and labored. Please be advised that our patient is Mike Stoker.”
“Squad 16, start two IVs, one D5W and the other normal saline. Is the patient conscious?”
“Negative, Rampart,” answered Craig, his voice wavering. “We have an ambulance at scene. Patient is bleeding profusely from a laceration to the left temple, Rampart. We're applying direct pressure.”
Dr. Kelly Brackett walked up to the base station just in time to hear the last part of the transmission. His eyes flew over the chart Dixie handed to him and cursed under his breath. “Squad 16, transport immediately. Give me updated vitals every ten minutes. Rampart out.” The doctor rubbed a hand across his unshaven face and sighed. “ Dixie , set up Treatment 4 and get Joe down here. Then call x-ray and get them down here. I'll be in my office.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Shouts echoed through the air as other stations arrived to battle the massive fire. The arson investigator stood beside Hank and McConikee, waiting for the Chief to allow him to enter the building. The young man Hank had encountered upon arrival stood to one side, looking for a means of escape. His eyes darted back and forth, finally seeing an opening between two of the engines. Before he could run, McConikee grabbed his arm and dragged him over to Vince Howard and David Brooks, who stood watching the fire.
“Not so fast, buddy,” growled the Chief. “We're going to have a little talk with these officers about what you and your pals were doing here.”
Vince smiled as the two men approached. “Is this the guy who called it in?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the young man.
“I think so, Vince. He was standing outside when Station 51 got to the scene. All right, buster. Start talking.”
Alex paled under the officer's scrutiny. “A bunch of my friends and I come here to hang out sometimes,” he muttered. “We saw some guy wandering around and told him to beat it. He dropped a can on the floor and took off like the Devil was after him. Not long after that, the old place started burning. I got out as fast as I could and called the fire department. Can go now?” he finished sullenly.
Brooks frowned darkly. “We'll need you to make a statement. Your friends, too, if any of them make it out alive.” He broke off as three fireman came out of the warehouse carrying four blackened and smoking bodies.
Alex turned and followed the officer's gaze. His eyes widened in shock and he bent forward and fell to his knees, vomiting convulsively. “Oh, God!” he sobbed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rampart Hospital
Dixie 's calm demeanor shattered when she saw Mike's battered form lying on the gurney. Her hand rose to cover her mouth as she pointed to Treatment Room 4. “In there,” she whispered.
“He woke up for a minute in the ambulance, but went out on us right after,” said Brice. “You need us anymore, Doc? It's a real mess down there.”
Brackett shook his head. “No, go ahead and leave. We'll take it from here. Dix, get a new set of vitals.” He gently lifted the bloody bandage covering the engineer's temple and gasped at the deep bruising he found. “Cliff, I want a complete skull series and spinal films,” he said to the x-ray tech standing behind the door. “Make it fast. Where the heck is Joe?” demanded the doctor crossly.
“Right here, Kel. What've you got?”
“Victim of a wall collapse. Looks like closed head trauma. As soon as he's stable, I'm going to order a CAT scan to see what we're dealing with.”
“Kel, BP 86/44, pulse 130 and thready, respirations unchanged,” informed Dixie .
“Damn! Stay with us, Mike,” growled Brackett. He pushed back the engineer's eyelid and grabbed his penlight out his coat pocket. “Left pupil responsive, right pupil sluggish. Cliff, get those films back here ASAP!” he shouted as the tech left the room.
As the doctors fought to stabilize the fallen fireman, Brice and Bellingham paced the corridor outside, anxious for news of their comrade. “I wonder if anyone thought to call his wife?” whispered Bob, his eyes sad.
Before Craig could reply, the door to the emergency room swept open. Johnny and Roy ran in, eyes searching for a familiar face. They spotted Brice and Bellingham and skidded to a stop beside them. “Any word yet?” panted Roy , his face white.
“They're still working on him,” said Brice, dragging a hand across his face, wiping away his tears. “What about the people in the warehouse?”
“They didn't make it,” answered Gage. “From what I overheard, it's a good bet that fire was set deliberately. I hope they get the son-of-a-bitch who did it!” he raged. “I'm gonna go call Lara and let her know about Mike.” He shuffled off, moving slowly like an old man.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Louisa, thanks for stopping by,” said Lara Stoker with a smile. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What's on your mind, sister-in-law?” answered the young woman.
Before Lara could speak, the phone rang. “Hello?”
“Lara, it's John Gage. Mike's been hurt. Can you come down to Rampart?”
The woman dropped the phone and screamed. Louisa stared at her in surprise and bent down to pick up the receiver she had dropped. “Hello? Who is this?” she asked in bewilderment.
“Lou? It's Johnny; I'm at Rampart. There was an accident. Mike was hurt pretty bad. Can you get down here right away?”
The young woman gasped and swayed dizzily for a moment. “How bad, Johnny?” she whispered, her voice strained. She glanced over at Lara, who sat in a chair, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
“It's serious,” replied the paramedic. “He got caught in a wall collapse.”
“We'll be right there! Thanks for calling, Johnny.” She hung up the phone, her hands shaking violently. “Lara, Lara ! You've got to calm down! Stop screaming!”
Lara ignored her, her shrieks gaining volume. Louisa's eyes showed her regret as she took hold of the woman's shoulders and shook her hard. Lara's head flopped back and forth and her teeth rattled.
“I'm really sorry I had to do that, sweetie, but we have to get to the hospital. Now get a hold of yourself. Thank God Mami has the kids today. Okay, come on, just hold on to me.” Louisa led the woman out to the car and fastened her seatbelt. As she drove down the street, her lips formed the words of a silent prayer for her brother's life.
Louisa walked into the Emergency Room, dragging Lara behind her. The other woman protested weakly as she was pulled along. “Louisa, stop! You're hurting me!” she wailed.
The young woman turned her head and frowned over her shoulder. “Sorry,” she muttered, loosening her grip on her sister-in-law's wrist. She spotted John Gage and Roy Desoto standing next to the nurses' station and headed in that direction.
“Any word yet, guys?” asked Louisa, her face pale.
Johnny shook his head. “No, Brackett and Early are still working on him,” he replied. His eyes looked past his boss's wife to Lara. “Is she okay?” he whispered.
Before she could answer, the treatment room door swung open and the doctors emerged. “Get him up to surgery pronto!” called Brackett as two orderlies wheeled Mike's gurney towards the bank of elevators. He spotted Louisa and stopped. “He's alive, Mrs. Stanley, but he's in bad shape. Is this his wife?”
“I'm sorry; you haven't met. Dr. Kelly Brackett, Lara Stoker.” She nudged her brother's wife with her elbow, but the woman ignored her, intent on the wall in front of her. Louisa rolled her eyes and gave up. “What are my brother's chances, Doc?”
“I'll know more once we get him into surgery. He's bleeding into his brain somewhere. Please excuse me. I'll keep you up-to-date.”
“Who treated him at the scene?” demanded Louisa, her eyes spearing Gage and Desoto. “What the Hell happened out there?”
Hank came up behind his wife and rested a dirty hand on her shoulder. “It was a bad one, honey,” he said softly. “I sent Stoker in to help the rest of the crew and he got caught in a wall collapse.” The Captain ran his other hand across his face. “I blame myself. I should have known the building was unstable.”
At that moment, Lara became aware of her surroundings. Her head whipped around and she glared at the Captain. She launched herself forward, screaming and beating on Stanley 's chest with her fists. “If he dies, it's your fault!” she blazed. Abruptly, the distraught woman's eyes rolled back in their sockets and she fainted, dropping to the floor in a heap. Chet and Marco darted forward and carried her into the waiting room.
“Where were the other units that were called out, Hank?” asked Louisa, her eyes dark with anger.
“They got caught in a traffic snarl, Mrs. Stanley,” said Chief McConikee as he pushed up from the wall where he had been resting. “Hank did what he had to do. You know he would never consciously endanger the lives of his crew.”
The young woman sighed heavily, nodding mechanically. “I know, Pat. I'm sorry I jumped down your throat, honey. I'm just worried about Mike, that's all.”
“We all are, Lou,” said Johnny. “And to answer your question, Brice and Bellingham treated him, with our help. They'd be here, but they had to go back to the fire.”
Louisa smiled thinly. “Then Mike was in very good hands,” she muttered. “Brice may be a fuss-pot, but he's a good paramedic. Excuse me; I need to check on Lara.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Three Hours Later
Doctor Brackett pushed open the waiting room door, a tired smile crossing his face. Roy was the first to see him, and nudged his partner. “Doc, how is he?” asked Johnny, getting to his feet.
“Joe and I managed to stop the bleeding, but Mike's not out of the woods yet. He coded on us a couple times. But, right now, he's stable and he'll live.”
“Thank God,” breathed Lara. “Can I see my husband now?” she asked anxiously.
Brackett shook his head. “He's still in recovery and from there, he goes to the ICU. It'll be a while before Stoker is up for visitors.”
Louisa reached out and squeezed her sister-in-law's arm. “Come on, Lara. Let's go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. Doctor Brackett will let us know when we can see Mike.” She raised a questioning eyebrow at her friend, who nodded.
“You bet I will. Louisa, before you go, could I speak to you privately, in my office?”
The young woman frowned, her sensitive ears picking up on a note she heard in the doctor's voice. “All right. Go ahead, you guys. I'll be there soon.” She followed Brackett into his office, closing the door behind her. “Okay, Kel, out with it.”
Brackett sat down behind his desk and handed her a form. “Mike still has you listed as his next of kin,” he began. “As you know, that makes you responsible for any decisions regarding his care. I thought it best to not to say anything in front of Lara.”
The young woman stared at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at. “Is there something wrong?” she asked quietly, biting her lip in agitation.
“There is a good chance Mike have reduced capacity,” replied the doctor. “It took us a while to get his heart beating again. Until he wakes up, there is no way to tell if his brain suffered from lack of oxygen.”
Louisa gasped, her vision swimming. “Oh my God,” she whispered hoarsely. “Okay, worse case scenario. What might we be dealing with here, Kel?”
“Mike could have sustained severe brain damage,” said Brackett. “He could be never be the same person again. If that is the case, he will need around-the-clock care or he may have to be institutionalized. I pray that's not necessary.”
The young woman's jaw tightened as she absorbed the news. She swallowed hard before speaking. “If that's the case, I'll take care of him myself,” she stated roughly. “On the flip side, we could be worrying for nothing, right? Mike could recover and be fine.”
“It's possible,” allowed Brackett. “I'm just trying to prepare you for what could happen. But Mike was lucky. He received immediate care on-scene. He's strong and might very well surprise all of us.”
“I certainly hope you're right, Kel. Thank you for not sugar-coating it. I appreciate it. I'd like to see my brother as soon as possible.” She got up and went to the door. “If there's nothing else…?”
“No, go join your family. I'm going to check on Mike. I'll let you know if there's any change.”
Louisa walked slowly down the hall, her hands shaking. Instead of going to the cafeteria right away, she detoured to the hospital chapel. Taking a seat in one of the pews, she closed her eyes and prayed with all her soul, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Lord, You've been there for me in the past; please don't fail me now. Mike needs Your help now. He's in bad shape, God, and he needs a miracle. If you deem it in Your wisdom to take him, please don't let him suffer too long. It's not his time, Father. In Your Son's name, I pray. Amen.” She made the sign of the Cross and stood up. A feeling of sudden peace washed over her and a smile lit up the young woman's face. “Thank you, Father,” she whispered, squaring her shoulders.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Four Days Later
“Lara, stop fighting me!” growled Louisa, close to the end of her patience. “You've got to eat, if not for yourself, for your baby. Now open your mouth!”
Lara shook her head, moving away from the spoon her sister-in-law was holding to her lips. “Leave me alone!” she begged. “Just go away!”
Before Louisa could retort, the phone rang. She got up to answer it, muttering under her breath. “Hello, Stanley residence,” she said harshly.
“Louisa, it's Kelly Brackett. Mike is starting to come around. Can you get over here right away?”
“I'm on my way. Doc, is he……?” She was unable to complete her sentence.
“It's a little soon to tell, but I'm hopeful,” replied the doctor.
“Okay, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Thanks, Kel. Hank! Get down here!”
Captain Stanley ran down the stairs in response to his wife's shout. “What's going on?” he asked. “Who was on the phone?”
“Doctor Brackett,” answered Louisa, pitching her voice low. “Mike's starting to wake up. I'm heading over to Rampart as soon as I get Lara ready. Can you watch the kids for a while?”
“Do you even have to ask ?” grinned Hank “Go ahead; call me as soon as you see him.”
“Thanks, honey.” She hugged her husband tightly, then walked over and patted Lara's shoulder. “Lara, we're going to the hospital. Mike is waking up. Go put your coat on.”
The woman's eyes widened and she blanched. “I don't want to,” she gasped. “I'll stay here with Hank and the children.”
Louisa's face set in determined lines. “No, you're going with me. For pity's sake, Mike is your husband ,” she grumbled. “Don't you give a damn about him?”
Seeing she was fighting a losing battle, Lara got up and put on her jacket. She went outside and got into her sister-in-law's car, muttering darkly about ‘insensitive bitches'.”
The Captain raised an amused eyebrow and chuckled. “She's acting like Emma when you force her to do something she doesn't want to do, sweetheart. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Positive. She needs to be there to see Mike. It might do him good to see his wife. I'll call you later, hose jockey. If you need reinforcements, call Mami .” She scooped up her keys and left the house.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A short time later, the two women stood beside Mike Stoker's hospital bed. “Hey, Mikey, time to wake up, handsome,” joked Louisa, squeezing her brother's hand gently.
The engineer's eyes fluttered open. He smiled when he saw his visitors and licked his dry lips. “Hi,” he croaked. “Where am I? What happened?”
“You're at Rampart,” grinned Louisa, brushing back a lock of hair from his face. “You lost a fight with a wall, hose jockey. How you feeling?”
“Rotten,” answered Stoker. “How long have I been here?”
“About four days. Lara, get over here. Don't be shy; come right up and say hello.”
The woman hesitated, then moved forward reluctantly. “Hi, honey,” she whispered.
Mike stared at her, bewildered. “Hi, yourself,” he answered. “Have we met?”
Lara paled and backed away from the bed. Her eyes flew to Louisa, who motioned towards the door. “Get Brackett,” she mouthed, turning back to her brother and plastering a bright smile on her face. “It's okay, big brother. We can talk about her later. Can I get you anything?”
“Water. My throat feels like I swallowed a sweat sock. Lou, what's going on?”
Before she could form a reply, Doctor Brackett walked in. “You called for me?” he asked.
“I'll be right back, Michael. Stay put.” She grasped the doctor's sleeve and pulled him into the corner. “Mike doesn't remember Lara,” she whispered. “Is that from the coma or his injury?”
“Retrograde amnesia is common in these cases, you know that. It could be only temporary.” He smiled and approached Mike's bed. “Hello, Stoker. How are you feeling?”
“Dr. Brackett? A little confused and my head's killing me. How about a little aspirin?”
“In due time. First, can you tell me what you remember?”
“Last thing I can clearly recall is Lou visiting the station. While she was there, we got called out to a warehouse fire,” said the engineer. “Cap sent Roy, John, Chet, and Marco in to get it under control and search for victims. They ran into trouble and Cap sent me in to assist. I was clearing away some debris and something hit me on the head. Next thing I know, I woke up here.”
“All right, now we're getting somewhere. Do you recognize this lady standing with me?”
Stoker looked at the doctor as if he'd lost his mind. “Of course I do. She's my sister, Louisa. I'd know her ugly face anywhere,” he grinned.
“Who you calling ‘ugly' gruesome?” teased his sister. “You ain't no prize winner yourself, you know.”
“Hey, be nice to an injured man,” shot back Mike, his eyes twinkling. “How do I know you weren't the one who put me here?”
“I wasn't, but if you keep it up, I'll arrange for you to stay here longer, pal,” chuckled Louisa playfully, raising a small fist.
“Bitch,” muttered Stoker, “but I love you anyways. Who was that other lady?” He paused for a minute, then continued. “Shoot, I know who she is. That's my wife!”
Brackett heaved a sigh of relief. “At least we don't have to worry about massive brain damage,” he joked softly. “You seem to have most of your faculties. Louisa, why don't you go get Lara and bring her back?”
The young woman nodded and left the ICU. She found her sister-in-law leaning against the wall outside sobbing quietly. “Mike remembered you, sweetie, so stop blubbering. Kel sent me out to get you.”
“I can't go in there!” said Lara, clearly horrified by the idea. “I can't stand seeing my husband hurt. Please, just tell him I'm not feeling well and that I'll see him later.” She turned and ran down the corridor before Louisa could stop her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
One Week Later
“Ready to go home, Mikey?” asked Louisa as she entered her brother's room. “I heard you're being sprung.”
“About damn time,” chuckled the engineer. He peered past his sister. “Where's Lara? Didn't she come with you?”
The young woman bit her lip, not wanting to tell the man she hadn't seen his wife in days. “Uh, she wasn't feeling up to it today. I'm sure she's waiting for you at home.”
“Good, because I miss her. Can you help me with my shoes? I still get a little dizzy when I bend over.”
Louisa winked at him. “You were always dizzy, hose jockey,” she teased. “It just took a bump on your thick skull to make you realize it.” The siblings argued playfully for a few moments, stopping when Dixie came into the room, pushing a wheelchair. “Parking Lot Express, now leaving from Gate Six,” she joked. “All aboard.”
As she wheeled the engineer out of the hospital, the nurse kept up a steady stream of chatter. When they reached the front doors, she patted Mike's shoulder and smiled. “Take care, Michael. Go home and rest . Doctor's orders.”
“Yes, ma'am,” snickered Mike. He looked up at his sister, a smile flirting with the corner of his lips. “Home, Jeeves. Let's take the scenic route.”
“Your wish is my command, master,” shot back Louisa. “See you later, Dix.”
As they drove through the city, Mike thanked her for the ride home. “I really appreciate it, little sister. I hate hospitals. I'm more than ready for all the comforts of my own bed.”
“Are you sure you don't want to stay with me and Hank? It wouldn't be a bother. That way, I could keep and eye on you and make sure you behave yourself.”
“I always behave,” grinned Stoker. “I promise to call you if I need anything, so stop worrying about me. I'm fine.”
“If you say so,” replied Louisa as she parked the car. They walked into the house, which was dark and silent. “Lara must have gone to the market or something,” she commented, a feeling of dread washing over her. “What do you want first, buddy? A nice, hot bath, or a meal that doesn't taste like it was served out of a boot?”
“Food first, bath later,” chuckled the engineer. “I don't know what hospitals do to their food, but it's terrible. Even Chet's cooking isn't as bad.”
“I could call him and have him whip up a pot of chili for you,” grinned Louisa, opening a cupboard and taking out a pan. “How does tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich sound?”
“Perfect, as long as it gets here fast. I'm starving.”
While he ate, Mike flipped through a stack of mail that was lying on the kitchen table. “Bill, get-well card, newsletter, bill, bill, junk mail, and bill,” he recited. “Get that, will you, Lou?” he said when the phone rang.
“Sure. Hello, Stoker residence. No, she's not. May I take a message? Uh huh, I'll let her know. Bye.”
“Would you be offended if I went to bed, little sister? I'm beat. Just put the dishes in the sink. Lara will wash them later,” said Mike, yawning loudly.
“No, go ahead. I promised Hank I would call him when we got here. Just holler if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Louisa waited until he was out of hearing range, then dialed her home phone number. “Hi, honey, it's me. No, she's not here. I told Mike she probably went to the store. Oh, he's okay. A little tired, but basically all right. Yeah, if you hear from her or see her, call me. Okay, love you, too. Bye.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Good morning, Mrs. Stoker. How can I help you?”
“How do you think?” answered Lara, sitting down. “You specialize in divorce, don't you? Well, I want one, the sooner the better. Will you handle my case, Mr. Wolcott?”
James Wolcott, a prominent Los Angeles attorney, nodded. “If that's what you really want. Can you give me a little background? Why do you want to divorce your husband?”
The woman sighed and rested her hands on her protruding belly. “My husband is a fireman, sir,” she began. “He was seriously injured on the job not long ago and I can't deal with the chance of him dying on me. It's better to just get out while I can.”
The lawyer's eyes dropped to focus on a brief lying on his desk. He bit back a sharp retort, thinking that this woman was extremely hard-hearted about her husband's profession. His own father had been a fireman in Michigan and he sympathized with the wives that ran the risk of losing their spouses very time they went to work. “Have you discussed this with your husband, Mrs. Stoker?”
Lara shook her head. “No, he'll find out what I'm doing when he's served with the papers. I also want full custody of the baby I'm carrying. Will that be a problem?”
“Considering how dangerous his job is, most likely not. I can start processing the paperwork today if you like. There will have to be grounds, though.”
“I understand that. I want this to be as painless and quick as humanly possible, Mr. Wolcott. Give me the papers and I'll sign them right away.”
Wolcott buzzed for his secretary. “Tamara, could you bring in those forms for Mrs. Stoker, please?”
The girl walked into the office carrying the stack of papers. She handed them to her boss, flashing Lara a sweet smile. “Here you are, Mr. Wolcott,” she said.
“Thank you,” replied the attorney. “Sign right here, Mrs. Stoker. I'll fill the rest in later and file them with the court.”
“How long before my husband will be served?” asked Lara, twisting her hands together in her lap.
“In about ten working days, if all goes well,” said Wolcott. “Are you sure this is what you want? You mentioned that you were pregnant. Is that right?”
The woman nodded. “About two-and-a-half months along,” she answered. “But that makes no difference.”
“I'll notify you when the papers have been filed. Where can I reach you?”
“I'm staying at a hotel right now,” said Lara, taking a small white card out of her purse. “I'm in room 208. I'll need to collect my things. How does that work?”
“Once your husband has been served, I'll call a police officer friend of mine and have him escort you over to your home. That way, no one can prevent you from getting your belongings. Judging by your expression, is there someone who might cause a problem?”
“Yes, my sister-in-law, Louisa Stanley. She can be a real bitch when she wants to be,” grumbled Lara. “She's going to flip when she finds out I', divorcing her brother.”
“If Mrs. Stanley is there when you go over, let the officer deal with her. If she's smart, she won't get in the way.”
“I hope you're right, Mr. Wolcott. It would be just like Louisa to make a ruckus.” She thrust a small hand across the desk. “Thank you, sir. Good day.”