Disclaimer: While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Carlisle and other medical personnel are not to be regarded as authoritative.

Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Stephenie Meyer; all original characters and story © 2017 FemaleChauvinist.

Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety.

Mickie Daniels

In my work as a paramedic, it was vital that I not allow myself to be distracted; a patient's life could depend on my focus. But as I drove to the station that morning, I found it impossible to force my thoughts off my own worries.

My eight-year-old daughter Kendra had been severely handicapped since birth, faced with multiple serious health issues. Six months ago she had had a series of procedures that was supposed to enable her to live a relatively normal life.

But for reasons the doctor had never adequately explained to me, the operation had failed and my daughter's disability remained the same as before. The doctor had reminded me that I knew going in there was a ten-percent chance that nothing would change, which I supposed in a way was true. A ninety-percent success rate certainly implied a ten-percent rate of failure, but it had been used to indicate that it was virtually a sure thing.

And yet in a way, it was the doctor's unconcern that bothered me most; the way he shrugged it off with a vague mention of that ten percent, not caring that I had emptied my emergency bank account on his promise of a miracle cure.

I had briefly considered suing for malpractice, but in all honesty, I knew it probably wasn't his fault — and even if it had been, I couldn't afford the expense involved.

I had been counting on the fact that Kendra would no longer need her expensive medication; would need fewer regular doctor visits; would be able to go to school rather than staying home with a caregiver. But now I still had all those expenses, along with several new medications the doctor had prescribed after the failed procedure, and no money to pay for them.

I was several months behind on my rent now, and my landlord had threatened to evict me if I didn't make at least a minimum payment by tomorrow. I had no family nearby; where could Kendra and I go?

I pulled into my usual parking space, but for several minutes made no effort to get out of the car. Only when a silver Volvo pulled into the spot next to mine did I stir myself. It was Edward Cullen, the young EMT who usually partnered with me on my shifts.

He looked up at me with a nod of greeting as we both exited our cars, then frowned. "Mickie…are you all right?"

I forced a smile. "Yes, of course."

Edward shook his head. "You're concerned about something; what is it?"

"Nothing you can help with."

"Don't be so sure. And sometimes it helps just to talk."

I gave a short laugh. "Not this time; not unless you can pull money out of thin air."

He grinned. "Maybe I can. How much are you talking about?"

"Fifteen hundred," I whispered, still unsure why I was telling him. And of course it was far more than that, but that was the amount I needed by tomorrow.

He flashed me another smile. "Wait there," he told me, ducking into his car. A moment later he emerged and held out a fan of bills…fifteen crisp hundred-dollar bills.

I blinked, wondering if he was involved in drug-dealing…he certainly had access to painkillers and other medications on the ambulance. I had been vaguely aware that he was wealthy, but surely even millionaires didn't usually keep that much in petty cash. And what parents let a seventeen-year-old keep that much cash in his car?

"I-I can't take that," I stammered.

"Pay me back later," he offered, still holding the money out.

"But — what will your parents say?"

"Carlisle would give it to you himself if he were here," he said instantly. "Please, Mickie; it would break Esme's heart to know you and Kendra were thrown out of your house; she'd have you up at our place in a minute. Of course, if you'd prefer that…"

I flushed, at the same time wondering vaguely when I had mentioned that we were being evicted. "Oh, no…I couldn't put her out." Hesitantly I reached to take the money, then paused. "I can't carry that much around all day!"

He fanned the bills together into a stack, then folded them in half and stuck them in his back pocket as nonchalantly as if the one in the corner of each bill hadn't been followed by two zeros. "Ask me for it after our shift ends," he told me.

Right. As if I would feel comfortable walking up to a seventeen-year-old and asking for fifteen hundred dollars that I still wasn't convinced I should let him give me.

I found my gaze drawn often to his pocket over the course of the day, always blushing and looking away as I realized how my fixation would appear. I was hopelessly distracted, but Edward covered for me. He always followed my orders nearly before I gave them; today he followed the orders I should have given but didn't, even correcting me when I would have injected the wrong drug; I went cold all over when I realized how he had saved me that time. I was convinced he would be able to pass his paramedic's exam with flying colors the day he was old enough.

oOo

Despite having told me to ask him for the money, it was Edward who stopped me as we were returning to our cars at the end of our shift. "Forgetting something?" he asked with a crooked smile, pulling the money out of his pocket and holding it in front of me like a treat being offered to tempt a child.

"I-I changed my mind. You can't imagine how grateful I am, Edward, but I just can't accept it."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Shame to waste it, though."

"Waste it?" I asked blankly.

"Yes. I've already given you the money, Mickie; it's yours, and I'd be stealing if I kept it. So if you won't take it, I guess I'll just have to leave it here in the parking lot."

I winced at the thought, wondering what he would do if I called his bluff.

"I'm not bluffing, Mickie," he said seriously as if he had read my mind. His eyes burned into mine, and I knew…he wasn't bluffing.

Slowly I reached for the money, touching it with the tips of my fingers as if I thought it would burn me. And with that much cash in my hand, I was suddenly afraid. Did I dare drive across town and walk into the bank carrying fifteen hundred dollars?

Of course, I was in no danger as long as no one knew I was carrying it, but I was so aware of it myself that it felt as if anyone with evil designs would be able to see it even through my purse.

"Want me to give you a lift to the bank to get a cashier's check?" Edward offered; once again the boy had read my mind. He would only have to drive me back here to pick up my car; there was no logical reason I shouldn't drive myself. But I found myself nodding gratefully, and was soon sliding into his car as Edward held the door for me, a courtesy I had thought didn't exist anymore.

Of course, I mused, a seventeen-year-old probably wasn't really that much protection. But it was all appearances; I had the idea a robber was more likely to go after an unescorted woman, even if my "escort" was on the young side.

"We should be just in time before the bank closes," Edward commented as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I caught my lip between my teeth. "We better be; my rent's due tomorrow and I don't think my landlord accepts cash."

"Don't worry; if we're too late I can write a check for you — either directly to him, or to you and you can sign it over to him."

"As long as you promise not to toss the cash in the street," I said dryly.

"That's yours either way," he responded coolly, pulling into the bank parking lot before I could respond. "Looks like they're just locking up."

"Then we're too late," I said, my shoulders slumping.

He flashed me a dazzling smile. "No, we're just in time. Come on."

I shrank behind him as he walked up the narrow sidewalk to the front door, sure that we were about to be taken for bank robbers.

"Hello?" Edward called, knocking lightly on the front door.

Almost immediately a man's face appeared in the glass; the manager, I presumed. "I'm sorry, young man; we're closed."

Edward gave him a disarming smile. "I'm sure you could make an exception for a friend of mine?"

The man gasped. "Mr Cullen! I'm so sorry; in the dark I didn't recognize you at first." He hastily unlocked the door as he spoke, opening it for us and nearly bowing in his eagerness to welcome us inside. I found myself wondering just what kind of bank accounts these Cullens had to get personal favors from the bank manager.

"What can I do for you this evening, Mr Cullen?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

Edward smiled again, ushering me forward with a hand on my back. "Ms Daniels here needs a cashier's check," he explained.

"Certainly, certainly!" He laughed almost nervously as he stepped behind the tellers' counter. "All my cashiers have gone home, but I'm sure a manager's check will do as well!"

It was only as he laughed again that I realized that was his attempt at a joke, and I smiled weakly.

"Did you want to take the money from checking or savings, Ms Daniels?"

"Neither; I-I have it here." I reached to pull it from my purse with shaking fingers; only Edward's quick reflexes saved it from being scattered over the floor. "Fifteen hundred," I said hoarsely, still unable to believe I held that much cash, and told him to whom to make it out.

"Certainly, certainly. And since Mr Cullen here is such a loyal customer, I'll waive the customary fee. Here you are, Ms Daniels."

"Thank you." I stared at the check for a moment before tucking the precious piece of paper in my purse.

"Will that be all, Mr Cullen?"

"Yes; thank you."

"A pleasure, sir," the manager replied, nearly bowing again as he led us to the door and pushed it open for us. "I hope to do business with you again soon, Mr Cullen."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better about taking this, anyway," I muttered as we walked back to the car.

"What?" Edward questioned.

"As eager as he was to do business with you, you must have so much money you won't even miss a measly fifteen hundred."

Edward chuckled. "It wouldn't be polite to ask, would it?"

"I suppose not," I agreed reluctantly. "But I'm still going to pay you back as soon as I can."

"Only if you take care of your other bills first," he said sternly. "I don't want to hear any more about evictions, or you going short on food to make sure Kendra gets her medicine."

I blinked; how had he known about that? And it had only been luxuries, anyway…I knew better than to starve myself when my ability to work was the only thing providing us with any money at all.

"Say hello to Kendra for me," Edward said, holding the door for me as I got into my car. He was one of the few people who seemed to think Kendra would actually understand what was said to her; I could tell the doctor was only humoring me by pretending to agree.

"I will," I promised. "Thank you again, Edward."

He winked at me. "Don't mention it." Then he shut my door and disappeared into his own car.

oOo

I hand delivered the check before work the next morning, relishing the look on my landlord's face as he took it. But my enjoyment quickly dimmed as he reminded me that this didn't begin to cover the amount I actually owed, and the same was due in another two weeks if I wanted to stay.

I nodded numbly. I had hoped for a month, though I knew I should be grateful he was accepting partial payments at all. But where was I going to find another fifteen hundred dollars in only two weeks?

I had little doubt Edward would give it to me as easily as he had the first time, but I had determined not to allow him to see I was still worried over it. I maintained a forced brightness in his presence, grateful when we had a patient and I could allow worry onto my face without raising questions.

At the end of the first week, with the worry beginning to make me physically ill, I received an unexpected piece of mail. The official-looking letter informed me that a woman named Elizabeth Mason had died, and after some investigation it was determined that I was her only living relative and sole heir of her assets. These included a fairly sizable bank account, a stock portfolio that I was told would provide me with a decent income, though I didn't pretend to know about such things, and a house right here in town. When the lawyer told me the address of the property, I stared at it for a moment, wondering why it seemed so familiar. Then it hit me. That was the very house I had secretly wanted since the day I answered a call there and saw the wide hallways, perfect for Kendra's wheelchair.

For one moment, I wondered if Edward was somehow behind this. How likely was it that I had an unknown relative living in this town at all, let alone in the very house I wanted? And when I responded to that call, surely the name hadn't been Mason…

But it must be coincidence, and maybe my memory was wrong on the name. That call had been before Edward joined the EMS, and while I thought about it every time I was in the neighborhood, I had certainly never mentioned it.

On the day I visited the house for the first time, I realized it was even more perfect than I had imagined. There was a bedroom on the ground floor for Kendra; mine was upstairs, but I could use a baby monitor to ensure I could hear her. Just off the bedroom was a bathroom that was already handicapped-equipped. And all the furniture came with the house as well.

I gave my landlord my notice the same day I handed him a check for the entire balance of my bill; it was the first time I ever saw him speechless.

The first thing I did after paying all my other outstanding bills was write a check to Edward for that fifteen hundred. He accepted it without protest — and also, I noted, without much surprise.

But as my bank statements came month after month, that check was never cashed.

Next story coming next week!

I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!

Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie