Beyond the Fence

I like to sleep in the nude.

“Big deal,” you say, “a lot of people sleep in the buff.”

It is a big deal, to me. I can only feel the comfort of sheets against my naked body, two out of every three days. It has become an anticipated luxury or even a reward.

As a firefighter, I work at the firehouse for 24 hours and then get 48 hours off of shift. Sleeping in the buff is my way of rewarding myself for staying safe. If I were to get injured on a scene so badly I would have to spend time in a hospital, I would be looked at disdainfully if I lay on the hospital bed without the hospital Johnny covering my little guy.

Fortunately, I have never experienced an overnight hospital stay. I have had to visit a hospital a time or two for injuries that occurred on the fire ground, but, only long enough for stitches or a cast to be put on my boo-boos then released.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, I like to sleep in the nude.

What is the story behind that or why is it important you may ask?

To be quite honest, it isn’t important, but, there is a story. A few stories, actually.

Let me start out by describing my house.

I live, alone, in a 1,400 square foot, three-bedroom ranch-style house. You know the kind. One level, on a concrete slab, two bedrooms on one side of the house with the master bedroom on the opposite side. An attached two-car garage juts out far enough to create the illusion of a walkway to the front door.

The lanai on the back of the house leads to the covered pool. Two ceiling fans, on the lanai, help keep a slight breeze stirring, especially on humid days. The outside kitchen and bar were not original features when we bought the house, they were an upgrade I installed a year after we moved in.

The back yard holds a lemon tree, lime tree, avocado tree, and enough St. Augustine grass that I can feel a sense of pride when I see the parallel lines in the turf after each time I mow.

Surrounding my yard is a six-foot-high, overlapped board, privacy fence. The fence was included when we bought the house and it was one of the main reasons we fell in love with the place. Being anti-social hermits was not the reason for the attraction of the privacy fence, the idea and feeling of privacy were.

“Hey, wait a minute,” you may be thinking, “You said you lived alone and you keep using the word, ‘we’, as you talk about the house. Did you have a roommate, spouse, or parents live with you?

I was married, but I have been single for the last seven years. We married when I was 25 years old and she was 23. I had been in the fire department for three years and she had been a nurse for one year. We were both virgins when we married and had an incredible, fun, and adventurous time, “unvirginizing” ourselves.

We liked the idea of the privacy fence for the single fact that if we wanted to lay next to the pool or swim in the nude, we could without the worry of the neighbors seeing. The neighboring houses were all single-level houses too and the neighbors were not tall enough to see over the fence.

I had built the outside kitchen on the lanai the second year we lived in the house and had finished the bar during our third year of occupation when disaster struck.

My wife was an ER nurse and was 6 hours into her 12-hour shift. It was her last shift before we were to start our 2-week vacation. As if living in Florida wasn’t paradise enough, we decided to take a cruise to the Caribbean. Neither of us had been on a cruise and we decided to take a 5-day cruise to the Caribbean and then relax at home for the rest of the vacation.

Before I switched firehouses, the firehouse I had worked was about two blocks away from her hospital. There were times I would see her when they had false alarms and we would arrive to make sure the alarm was truly false. By the way, that is how we met, I responded to a false alarm to her hospital. She was in the last 6 weeks of her nurse residency and had no idea what was happening. I saw her, assured her that everything was okay, and told her that if something was wrong, I would make sure she was safe.

I know, I know, looking back at it now, I probably sounded like a total idiot, but, I had no idea what I was saying at the time. I was smitten by her. Yes, I used the word smitten and I meant to use it too.

Later that day, I had to drive the medic truck to the hospital because the medic needed her normal driver in the back with her to help with a cardiac arrest. After helping place the patient in a hospital bed and leaving the room so they can work their magic, I stepped into the hall with the cot and began to strip the linen and clean it from top to bottom.

“Hey,” I heard from behind me, “There’s the guy that’s going to keep me safe.”

I turned and saw her heading my way while she was putting on PPE to help with the cardiac arrest.

“I keep my word,” I said without thinking, “Safe and snuggled in.”

She stopped, looked at me, and sighed.

I assumed she smiled too. I couldn’t tell because of the mask she had already put on her face, but, her eyes twinkled and her ears raised slightly.

The smile and the sigh made my stomach flutter. I wanted to swoop her up, carry her out of the ER, and never let her go. That may sound overly dramatic or the stuff you may read in a very cheesy romance book, but, I like cheese.

“I’m Lee,” I said quickly, “I would shake your hand, but, you are about to save a life and I don’t want to dirty your gloves.”

“Cassy,” she said as she extended her elbow and we bumped elbows, “hope to see you around again, and soon.”

She winked at me, turned, walked into the patient’s room, and began to help save another life.

“Come on Romeo,” I heard from the medic, “Let’s get you out of here and get you cooled off.”

Lisa was one of my favorite medics. She was one of the best at her job, compassionate, tough, and can bust chops with the best of them.

She put her hand on my shoulder and chuckled as I pushed the cot down the hallway toward the ambulance bay.

“You’re not like the other guys, Lee,” she said as we secured the cot in the ambulance, “Other guys would have tried to get her number, lay her, and move on to the next nurse. I like you, you have class.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, “I’m taking that as a huge compliment.”

“You should,” she replied, “I meant it as a compliment.”