The Best Laid Plans. Amy Vastine

face. “Charlie Fletcher, I thought we were friends, but you’ve been holding out on me.”

      Charlie hadn’t been intentionally keeping secrets. There wasn’t much to tell other than he had a crush. “There was nothing to say. I like her. I’ve been holding back a little because the women who somehow resist my good looks completely fall at my feet when I turn on the charm. It’s embarrassing, really.”

      Max laughed into his fist. “Okay, but seriously. Emma’s cool. Now, if you were head over heels for Lucy, I’d tell you to run for your life. Emma’s usually easy to get along with, but I think she’s dating some doctor. If you let me call Kendall—” he reached for his phone “—I could find out.”

      “No way.” Charlie smacked his hand again. “I have sisters. Sisters tell sisters everything. If you tell Kendall, she’ll tell Emma and things will be weird.”

      “Okay, then just ask her out on a date,” Max suggested.

      “But you think she’s already dating someone?” He’d worried this was the case. A beautiful woman like Emma probably had a boyfriend.

      “Kendall and Lucy always say things about Emma marrying a doctor, but I feel like I’m missing something. I’ve never met any doctor boyfriend, so I’m not sure.”

      Before he made a fool of himself, Charlie needed to find out if Dr. Boyfriend was real or not. If he wasn’t, he’d ask her on a date. If she was already taken, Charlie would have to reassess the situation.

      “Well, you wanna be my best man?” Max asked.

      “Yeah?” Charlie grinned. He hadn’t expected to get a title. “You want me to be your best man?”

      “If you’re going to help my future sister-in-law plan my wedding, you should probably be my best man.”

      “You’re a good man, Floor Three. I’m in.” Charlie had never planned a wedding, but he’d been to a few. Something told him he’d have to look at flower arrangements and discuss things like color palettes—things he had no interest in whatsoever. Spending some time with Emma could definitely be worth it, though.

      Max and Charlie shook hands just as the Blackhawks’ forward scored a goal with only seconds left in the third period. Both men jumped up, cheering loudly. They high-fived and clapped for their team as if they were fans in the stands. A win for the Hawks had to be a sign that good things were going to come Charlie’s way.

      * * *

      “PEOPLE NEED TO turn down their music and look in their rearview mirrors every once in a while,” Charlie’s partner complained as she honked the air horn and drove the ambulance around some guy who simply refused to pull over.

      Charlie stared him down as they passed. “He’s on his phone. I knew it!” There was nothing more frustrating to a paramedic than not being able to get to a call because of negligent drivers.

      Serena made a wide right turn onto a one-way street. She double-parked in front of the brownstone where the 911 call had been made. Charlie grabbed his jump bag and headed for the building. A new life was about to begin today. The caller, Mr. Garrison, said his wife was in labor and was too far along to leave the house.

      He wasn’t kidding.

      The young woman lay on the bed clutching her swollen belly and shrieking as another contraction brought her one step closer to motherhood. Her husband ran back to her side and held her hand until it was over.

      “I told her we should go to the hospital when they were coming every ten minutes, but she thought she had enough time to shower.”

      Charlie noticed Mrs. Garrison had done more than shower. Her hair was styled and she had a face full of makeup. Something told him she’d been more worried about how she would look than about getting to the hospital on time. This had to be her first child, because most women didn’t wait when they’d been through the “joys” of natural childbirth before.

      Serena instructed Mrs. Garrison not to bear down and asked the husband to get them some clean towels or blankets. Charlie pulled out the necessary equipment from his bag and put on a pair of gloves. Speaking as calmly as he could manage, he let the very-soon-to-be mother know everything that was happening as it happened. He got her positioned correctly and found the baby’s head was already crowning.

      “You need to take me to the hospital! I can’t have my baby delivered by an ambulance driver!”

      Sometimes Charlie’s profession got no respect. People didn’t realize how much training was necessary to be a paramedic. No, they weren’t doctors, but they were medical professionals capable of providing treatment until the patient could get to a hospital.

      “Can you give me some drugs? I need some drugs,” Mrs. Garrison grunted. First timer for sure.

      “I need you to breathe like this.” Charlie showed her how to puff air out so she didn’t push before they were ready. “There’s no time to get you to the hospital, or for drugs, I’m afraid. This baby is going to be out before anything could start working.”

      Mr. Garrison returned with towels, and Serena got busy turning the bedroom into what would now be the delivery room. Mrs. Garrison grimaced and then screamed out again.

      “I need to push!”

      Charlie told her to go ahead as he helped ease the head out. He checked to make sure there was nothing wrapped around the baby’s neck and let her push again. In a matter of seconds, Charlie held a tiny baby boy in his hands. He suctioned the mouth and nose, and the baby let out the kind of cry that every parent loves to hear. Charlie cleaned him off and wrapped him up in a clean towel. Serena handed him the oxygen to administer to the little guy until he pinked up nicely.

      “You’ve got a good-lookin’ son here. Now we can take you guys to the hospital to make sure.”

      These were the kinds of calls that made Charlie’s day. Not only had he helped bring a life into the world, but he also had to transport this new family to Saint Joe’s, where Emma worked. He felt as if it was a good omen that something as joyous as a newborn was bringing him to her hospital today.

      As soon as Mrs. Garrison was no longer in agonizing pain, she realized her husband did not have his camera at the ready. The hair and makeup made perfect sense after she got him to take a few dozen pictures of her and their son. Mr. Garrison gave his wife her phone so she could post some selfies and make the announcement that she’d delivered a healthy boy on every social media site out there.

      Serena’s face gave away her annoyance. Charlie could only smile. “Come on, Serena Hayes. I bet you looked like a million bucks in all the pictures when your babies were born.”

      Serena had heard about Charlie’s proclivity for giving nicknames when she came to work at Station 22. She was an African-American woman in her thirties. No one was going to call her anything childish or foolish. She’d introduced herself and let him know he had a couple options. He could call her by her first name or last name. She would respond to either, but nothing else. That led to him calling her by both her first and last name. Sometimes he slipped in a Serqueena when he was feeling rebellious, but that didn’t happen too often.

      “I look good all the time. I don’t need to post it all over the web to prove it,” she said under her breath. She gave Mrs. Garrison one more minute to finish her announcements before they loaded her and the baby into the ambulance and headed to Saint Joseph’s Hospital.

      * * *

      THE TRIAGE NURSE on duty loved Charlie. She congratulated him on his successful delivery and offered him a chocolate kiss from the little jar that sat on her desk.

      “I think you missed your calling. You should have gone to medical school,” she said.

      “I’m not doctor material. Too many years in the classroom and then the rest of your life spent in the hospital. Not to mention, I look terrible in white. But blue, I’m to die for in blue,” he said with a wink. Charlie unwrapped