My Life

==== Chapter Three - Mark ====

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So this was the new neighbor. I'd seen the boxes and some big bruiser going in and out of the apartment across from mine when I got home this morning, but I'd been too tired to introduce myself. My thoughts were more on lying down and dying for a few hours.

It was hell being on 3rd shift again – even if it was a temporary affair. With Terry gone for her honeymoon, and me being the only single lead paramedic the EMS department currently had, you can guess who was volunteered to take over Terry's shifts. Sometimes seniority just didn't help a man out. Seniority sure didn't help with the 3 car crash at midnight or the heart attack call around dawn.

Had I known that my new neighbor looked like this, I would have caught my second wind and come over earlier. Much, much earlier. I wasn't just calling her honey as an endearment. She looked like honey with her short gold hair and warm bronze skin. She looked lickable.

Of course there was still the big bruiser. Husband? Lover? Brother, dare I hope?

A quick check of the hands she was still examining showed no rings and no light stripe of skin showing where a ring would reside. That ruled out a husband. Of course, bruiser could be a lover. Only one way to find out.

"Would you like me to call your husband or boyfriend to help you back to your apartment?" I held my breath. It had been a damn long time since I had waited so anxiously for a woman's response.

Sheila glanced up at me with a quizzical expression. "I think I can make it if you don't mind helping me up."

Well, that didn't answer anything.

"So much for being subtle. Sheila, I was gently trying to find out if you were married or otherwise engaged. You're not cooperating with me here." I winked at her while helping her to her feet.

Thank God she laughed instead of slapping me.

Sheila's eyes were twinkling mischievously when she replied, "You're the second person today to call me difficult. I'm not sure if I should be insulted or complimented."

Help me Lord, she was a tease. I really liked her. Any woman who could land flat on her face and still maintain a sense of humor was all right in my book.

I threw my head back and laughed at her spunk while still keeping an arm around her. I didn't know how steady she would be on her feet after her fall and, I admit it, she felt good under my arm. Also, I wasn't about to let her go until I got an answer to my question.

"Soooo..."

Sheila shrugged. "No, no husband and no 'otherwise engaged'." She glanced at me quickly before continuing, "And you?"

I grinned at her. "Uh-uh." I hadn't had as much sleep as I normally needed, but I was feeling pretty awake all the same.

That's when I noticed that Sheila was standing on one leg like a flamingo. Instantly I reverted to the professional.

"Honey, what hurts? Your right leg? Foot? Ankle?" I looked in her face for her answer. Some people were adept at hiding their pain – even from themselves – but there were signs you could read if you knew what to look for. I saw mild discomfort when Sheila put her leg down gingerly but nothing major. I did notice that she kept her hand on my chest and was shifting her weight to her left leg.

I swallowed. Hard. So I wasn't a complete professional.

"My ankle is a bit sore, but it doesn't feel broken. It just hurts when I put a lot of pressure on it. I think I'll be okay. Umm, would you mind helping me back to my apartment though? My balance is off."

Oh yeah.

Sheila looked around at the boxes littering the ground before looking back up at me with distress in her eyes. I could read her mind at that moment.

Smiling, I attempted to reassure her. "I'll come back for the boxes after I get you back to your apartment. I assume they were just going in the trash?"

Sheila nodded, obviously relieved, but before she could say anything we were interrupted.

"I'll get the boxes, dearie. Mark, you just get that poor girl off her ankle."

I glanced over at where Mrs. Leone, the landlady, was standing next to Buster. She didn't stay still long though, bending down to start stacking boxes.

"Mama, you're the best. Are you sure you don't want me to come back and help you pick these up?"

Sheila was also talking. "Mrs. Leone, you don't have to do that."

At this chorus, she looked up from her task and tut-tutted at Sheila. "You call me Mama. Everyone calls me Mama. Besides, I saw my Buster trip you." She shot a fond glance at the mutt in question. "I ran inside to grab the phone and left him out here. I should have known something was going to happen. My horoscope said it would be a troublesome day."

Mama made a shooing motion with her hands. "Now, Mark you get that girl back to her place before that ankle swells any more. Make sure you elevate it. And put some ice on it, you hear. Now go!"

I leaned over to kiss Mama on the top of her head. "Mama, who's the paramedic around here?"

Mama just laughed and smacked me on the back. "It's still good advice, smarty pants. Now go."

I glanced down at Sheila, who was looking very amused. "Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?" I knew which answer I preferred.

Sheila took a tentative step forward and almost lost her balance when her weak ankle threatened to give out.

"I guess that answers that. Hold tight," I said as I swung her up in my arms.

As a veteran paramedic, I had carried women before plenty of times. As a man, I had lifted a few of the fair persuasion in the pursuit of seduction. None had settled in so perfectly in my grasp or felt so right once there. This was going to be interesting.

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