you.”
Kylie stared in surprise at the bag Seth dropped in her lap. He started the car and then glanced at her expectantly.
“For me?” Since the name on the bag advertised the name of a local retail store, she knew what she’d find inside. She smiled as she pulled out the shirt. “A Green Bay Packers jersey?”
“And a Bears jersey, too,” Seth quickly interjected, when Ben protested loudly from his perch in the backseat. “This way you can root for either team, depending on who happens to be winning.”
She laughed, already feeling torn between Seth’s Packers and Ben’s Bears. “Maybe I should cheer for a different team altogether?”
“Not the Vikings, Mom. They stink.”
She shot a warning look over her shoulder at Ben. “Watch your language,” she chided, before turning back around to the front. The interior of Seth’s car smelled brand-new, as if he’d just driven it off the lot. She still couldn’t believe he’d bought a new car.
And not just any new car.
A family car. A four-door sedan.
“So, are you going to name this one, too?” she asked, smoothing her hand over the plush fabric of the seat cushion. The car might not be sporty, but it certainly didn’t lack any luxury.
“Yeah, I already have.” Seth shot her a cheeky grin. “Suzanne.”
“Suzanne?” She raked the interior with a skeptical glance. The car didn’t scream Suzanne to her.
But then she wasn’t a guy.
“Why not?” Seth asked, heading for the interstate highway. “She’s sleek, classy. As soon as I saw her I knew she was a Suzanne.”
“Did your father name his cars, too?” she asked, trying to understand this weird tendency to humanize his possessions.
“Nah. That was something Caleb and I started, after reading Stephen King’s classic, Christine.”
Good grief—he’d named his car after reading a horror novel? “That’s sick.”
He gave a negligent shrug. “Caleb and I wanted to see if our cars would come to life, like Christine, but they didn’t.”
“And a good thing, since the Christine in Stephen King’s novel tried to kill its owner,” she said in an exasperated tone. She would like to meet Seth’s brother. And his sister, Tess. But clearly, Seth didn’t think their relationship was at the point where he’d consider introducing her to his family.
Would he ever take that step? A more drastic move than simply buying a new car? She wasn’t sure.
When they reached Milwaukee, Seth pulled into a family-style restaurant—one that was completely opposite from the place they’d eaten dinner at last weekend. She sent him an appreciative glance, knowing there would be a decent children’s menu for Ben to choose from.
She decided to try the grilled salmon, while Seth settled on a large burger.
“Gee, have a little chicken with your ketchup,” Seth teased as Ben drowned his chicken strips in the red sauce until he could barely see them. “Why did you get chicken strips if you don’t like how they taste?”
“I like how they taste with ketchup,” Ben said, jamming one in his mouth, smearing a red streak across his cheek.
“Help! Help! He’s not breathing!”
Huh? Kylie exchanged a look with Seth and they both jumped to their feet, glancing over to where a man was slumped over on the table.
They rushed over. “Call 911,” Kylie told the hovering waitress, who was staring at the man helplessly.
Seth eased the man onto the floor, stretching him out so they could work. Kylie knelt on the opposite side of the unconscious man. “Heart attack?”
“That would be my guess.” Seth opened the man’s airway, bending his head to listen and feel for breathing. Kylie took a few minutes to rush back over to her purse for the face shield resuscitation mask she carried with her at all times.
She’d never had to use it until now.
“Here.” She spread it out over the man’s mouth to protect Seth.
“No spontaneous breathing and no pulse,” he confirmed. “We’ll need to start CPR.”
Kylie found her landmarks on the man’s chest, and then began giving chest compressions, even as she glanced over to keep track of Ben. He’d followed them, and stood near the table, watching them work on the patient with wide eyes. She counted out loud for Seth’s sake, hoping the resuscitation wasn’t too traumatic for her six-year-old to handle.
“Are you getting tired?” Seth asked, after they’d completed several minutes of CPR.
She nodded, indicating it was time to switch. When chest compressions were done correctly, with the proper depth and pressure, they were physically taxing. She’d learned the hard way in the field that staying with chest compressions too