Being a southern girl in Chicago, Illinois, was intimidating.
In Saint Augustine, Louisiana, everyone knew everybody. It was a small town where I spent every second from birth to twenty-one, so when I announced to friends and family I was moving after being left at the altar by my ex-fiancé, who skipped out of town and re-enlisted the Army, no one was surprised.
They were surprised to learn that I would move to Chicago, though.
At my going away party, many people tried to talk me out of it, as I was a "beloved" first-grade teacher.
When I got to Chicago, I found a simple studio apartment and started training and studying immediately to be certified as an EMT. It didn't take very long for me to get my certification, and I was sent to different firehouses that weren't very keen on keeping me around and didn't like my Southern hospitality.
So, a few months after I turned twenty-five, I stepped foot into Firehouse 51.
I looked around, seeing people notice me one by one.
"Hey, what can we help you with?" A blonde woman with her hair slicked back into a long ponytail.
I smiled at her, "Hi there! My name is Rose Winslow, and I'm the new EMT that was assigned here." I told her, adjusting the bag on my shoulder.
She noticed the "Chicago Fire Department" logo on my shirt and smiled back, "Oh awesome! My name is Sylvie Brett," she reached out her hand to me, "I'll be your partner."
I shook her hand, "It's nice to meet you."
She nodded, "Here, I'll show you around." I followed her as she showed me around, we approached a table with a few guys sitting around it, "This is our Rescue Squad and their precious table. We've got Severide, Newhouse, Cruz, and Capp."
"Hey, nice to meet you." Cruz stood up and shook my hand.
"Hi! It's nice to meet you too."
The boys looked taken back by my accent, and Severide turned in his seat, "Where are you from?"
"A small town in Louisiana, right near New Orleans, sir."
"It's nice to meet you..."
"Winslow."
He reached out to shake my hand, and I greeted everyone before Brett continued the tour.
"This is the common area. That's Mouch in his natural habitat, Kidd, Otis, and Herrmann." She pointed to everyone as she said their names, and Herrmann raised his head from the newspaper he was reading.
"Who do we have here?"
"My new partner, Rose Winslow." She introduced me by my full name, and I smiled with a wave.
"Are you the new medic?" A man's voice spoke from the side, and I turned, nodding.
"Yes, sir."
"Why don't you come into my office?" He turned, and I tensed up. Did I mess up already? I followed the man into his office, and he let me walk in first, holding the door open and closed it behind us.
"I'm the Battalion Chief of this house, Wallace Boden." He shook my hand and walked to his seat as I sat down, placing my bag down on the floor.
"Rose Winslow, pleasure to meet you, sir." I smiled lightly, folding my hands together on my lap to keep from nervous fidgeting.
"I called you in here because I wanted to greet you and speak with you about an email from a few of your previous Chief's stating that you are an excellent EMT, very smart and a go-getter on the field, but you are a bit too...friendly in house."
I blushed slightly at his words, running a hand through my shoulder-length hair as he continued to speak.
"I wanted to ask you about it directly instead of indulging in whatever they believe is too friendly."
I cleared my throat, "Yes, sir, I understand that it sounds concerning, the way that they put it. I am from the deep south, as deep as you can get by the Gulf of Mexico. I was taught by my mama to live by her version of Southern Hospitality. If someone gets hurt, tend to their wounds without judgment. The way to a man's heart is through their stomach. Never go anywhere empty-handed. Be kind and honest, and don't let your emotions get in the way of your work. I tend to forget that I'm no longer in Saint Augustine, Louisiana, and sometimes my hospitality is seen as fake or sleezy, but I promise that I mean no harm."
He held up a hand to stop me from rambling any further, "I was just looking out for my house, but be careful of what you make, or you'll become the new House chef." He smirked lightly as I relaxed with a smile of my own.
"I love cooking, Chief, that wouldn't be an issue at all."
"Then you're dismissed, welcome to 51."
I left Boden's office with my bag, and Brett found me quickly and showed me to the locker room.
"There's an empty locker right here next to mine, I had a partner named Dawson, but she is in PuertoRico leading relief, so this one is yours." She grabbed the tape roll from the top of the lockers and took a strip of it, placing it at the top of the locker, "Go ahead and write your name." I nodded, and she walked away. I sat on the bench and unzipped my bag, grabbing a pink sharpie from the box I kept in there and writing WINSLOW across the tape.
I opened the locker, making a mental note to get myself a lock and started unloading my bag, which had a few extra t-shirts, pants, socks, and underwear along with toiletries, a few washcloths, a perfume bottle, portable makeup kit, and magnates I placed on the inner door.
The last thing I pulled out of my bag was a yellow envelope that held a picture of me with my family and a laminated picture of "Good luck in Chicago!" With my last group of students, first names written around it.
I put both pictures up and my phone started ringing in my pocket, so I picked up my now empty bag to bring it back to my car and answered it, I saw it was my older sister, Eliza.
"Eliza, what's going on?"
"What? I can't call my favorite sister to see how her new placement is going?"
I chuckled, "One, I am your only sister, and two I just got here. How about this evening? I'll call you and indulge your need for drama with a glass of wine and the newest episode of whichever housewives you want to watch together?"
"Well, that sounds mighty fine. Oh! You'll never guess who decided to show his dumb face back in town."
My heart dropped, and I held in a groan as I opened the back seat of my car. I knew exactly what she was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it. People didn't leave Saint Augustine very often. Only people who hated the small-town life wanted a new start or enlisted in the military left home for near good. I left because I was tired of the pity stares and "I'm so sorry that happened to you!"
"Eliza, please don't tell me--"
"Mrs. Johnson saw him walk into Joe's Diner while she was having lunch with her granddaughter. Apparently, he's been asking about you, but no one's talking."
I rolled my eyes, closing the car door and leaning against it, "Good, he's dead to me. Try and make sure Gramma doesn't go yapping at him. He's the last person I want to see, ever. Listen, I've gotta get back to work. Send my love to the family, okay?"
"Alright, stay safe up there!"
I hung up the phone and made my way back into the firehouse. Brett was by the truck and smiled at me with the clipboard in her hands. "I was just about to do an inventory check."
I nodded and got into the back, "You call them out, and I'll count?"
"Sounds good to me."
Just as she was about to speak again, the alarm sounded, and both of us paused to listen to it.
"Ambulence 61. Person in distress. 31 John Street."
"There's a radio for you on the passenger seat." Brett said, and I nodded as I exited the ambulance and went to the passenger side door.
The both of us got in, and we took off, getting to the scene quickly and getting out.
A woman came running out of the building next door, "I live in the house next door, and I heard a woman screaming in there. I know the mom and dad are at work, but their teenage daughter, Sarah, must have stayed home from school today."
We nodded as we gathered the things from the back and a police car pulled up to the scene. I walked up to the door and knocked, pressing my ear against it, "Fire Department!" I called out, hearing muffled shouts come from inside.
I tried the door, but it was locked, so I turned around and took a deep breath, kicking the door in and walking inside with Brett hot on my heels.
"Sarah! Call out!" She yelled, and I listened carefully. The two officers had followed us inside as they heard a minor was possibly in trouble.
"In the bathroom!" A distressed young voice called out, and I followed the sound. Finding the bathroom door ajar, I poked my head in and saw the teen in the bathtub breathing heavily wearing a dress.
She was also noticeably pregnant.
"Oh honey, are you alright?" I said, placing my bag on the closed toilet seat and grabbing the tools I needed.
"I think I'm going into labor. I woke up this morning with a headache and wet sheets, but I thought I peed the bed since I've done that before during my pregnancy. Turns out my water broke while I was sleeping." She cried out, holding her stomach.
"Have you tried contacting your parents?" Brett asked, and Sarah nodded.
"Multiple times, my mom is a lawyer, and my dad works in construction, so they don't pay too much attention to their phones when they're busy."
"Alright, we're going to take you to Chicago Med. First, I need to check on how many centimeters dilated you are." I put on some gloves, and Sarah nodded.
I climbed into the tub with her and checked, I didn't even have to check because I could see she was starting to crown. I turned to Brett, "There's no time to take her to Med, we'll have to deliver this baby on sight."
Brett held onto Sarah's hand and called it in as I grabbed a few towels, "Can you stand up and get to the floor, Sarah?"
She shook her head, "I don't know why I decided to climb in here, I haven't been able to get off the floor since my third trimester started."
I nodded, "It's okay, you're doing great. You're going to have to start pushing, though."
It only took about five minutes before we heard the cries, and I cut the umbilical cord, "It's a girl." I smiled down at her, and she nodded, clearly exhausted. I wrapped the baby in a towel and handed it to her, and she lit up like a Christmas tree as Brett and I helped her up and to Chicago Med.
Chicago Med wasn't very busy, and they took her and the baby in right away. I leaned against one of the counters doing paperwork when Brett came up to me, "You did great out there. Your first call with us and you helped deliver a baby. I can tell it wasn't your first one."
I smiled sheepishly and shook my head, "Oh, no, my first delivery was when I was sixteen, actually. The school was on lockdown because of a hurricane that took a turn for the worst. I was in health class; my teacher was stressed and pregnant, and baby boy decided that was the perfect time to make his great appearance into the world. I was the only one willing to step up, and I didn't have to take my final that year."
Brett breathed a laugh, "Mom and baby, were both okay?"
I nodded, "I still get Christmas cards every year."
"It's good that I got you then. Clearly, you're not afraid of a little action."