Quinn and I waited until her parents had left then gathered up her overnight bag for Vegas. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"No. I mean, yes. It's just weird to, I don't know, not be hated by your parents," I said.
"I know what you mean. I feel like they are finally seeing me, instead of just this knock-off version of Sienna. It feels strange, but good."
I opened Quinn’s car door for her. By the time I got into the driver's seat, my tongue felt heavy. The words I wanted to say were like lead. Quinn chatted about Caesar's Palace, where we would be staying, and the tournament. She did not notice my struggle to speak.
"Funny what your father said about the little white chapel, isn't it?" I finally managed to say.
"Yes. Especially since it is where he and my mother got married," Quinn said.
I swerved the car just a little. "What?"
"Oh, they had a big, white wedding where everything was perfect, but two nights before, they drove to Vegas and got married. I always thought it was so romantic," she said.
We pulled onto The Strip, but I started to recalculate my route so we could drive past the iconic wedding chapel. My heart was hammering because I knew that was the final piece that would make me feel whole.
"Quinn, I know this is out of the blue, but-"
"Owen, pull over! I think that man is having a heart attack!" Quinn said. She grabbed the wheel and forced me to pull over.
Tourist drivers went crazy with their horns, but Quinn jumped out of the car and ran to the side of the fallen man. Within seconds, there were sirens coming from two directions. The ambulances moved slowly through the awestruck tourists.
Quinn ignored all the chaos. She was bent over the man doing chest compressions. After a short eternity, she checked his pulse and leaned back on her heels. By the time the EMTs pulled their equipment out of the ambulance, the man had lifted his hand. He reached for his tearful wife's fingers and she thanked Quinn over and over again.
Two EMTs loaded the man into the ambulance, while a third stopped to talk to Quinn. Her face lit up in recognition and I felt a sharp stab of jealousy. I walked over just as he handed her a card.
"Feel free to call me anytime," the EMT said.
"Thanks, I will," Quinn said.
#
I never knew what people meant when they said someone "glowed" – not until I got back into the car with Quinn. It was hard to concentrate on the cluster of bad Vegas traffic. A bright smile played around her lips and her eyes sparkled at everyt
hing without actually seeing it. I worried that was what love looked like. I felt that way when I looked at her sometimes.
"You're pretty happy for a woman who just saw a serious heart attack," I commented.
Quinn blinked at my terse tone. "He survived. That is seriously good news. That makes me happy."
"Okay, but this seems like a different kind of happy," I said. "Does it have anything to do with that cute EMT giving you his card? What did he say? You can call him anytime?"
"Owen Redd, you realize you sound jealous, right?"
"You look like if I opened the window you would float right out. So, if you're not happy about the EMT hitting on you, then what is it?"
"For the record, he did not hit on me," Quinn said. "Well, maybe he flirted, but he was giving me his business card."
My heart thumped and I realized Quinn had just saved a man's life. She had jumped out of the car before I pulled to a complete stop and ran over to help. Not only that, but she had revived him and kept him alive until help arrived. It was amazing.
"You know, that's not such a bad idea," I said.
"What's not a bad idea? Helping a man having a heart attack?"
"Yes, but I mean working as an EMT. You have some background with the nursing classes you already took and you clearly have a talent for it. It’s something you really should consider, Quinn," I said.
She crossed her arms tightly. "Well, aren't you just full of career advice," she said.