Jenny"It is with the greatest pleasure, not to mention immense gratitude to the entire staff who has worked so hard to make this a reality, that I officially declare the St. Agnes Memorial Hospital Dedicated Oncology Wing . . . open!" The president of the hospital's board of directors uses the ridiculously oversized scissors to cut the ceremonial ribbon stretched across the corridor that connects the rest of the hospital with our wing. All of us-the nurses, the techs, the aides and the rest of the staff-are standing on the inside watching the show. As soon as he slices the ribbon, the official guests come streaming through to join us. It feels weird that there's a little party set up here. After all, this is a hospital, a place where people come when they're sick. But today is special. It's a time to celebrate before we get down to the serious business of saving lives. Everyone who's anyone in Harper Springs is here. The mayor and her husband are standing by the punch bowl
Jenny"Honey, I'm home!" I drag myself through the front door and look around, searching for any sign of where Nico might be. For the past week, since the oncology wing opened, he's been in the kitchen, cooking me dinner, when I get home from work. It's a treat to have a gourmet meal prepared for me by my own personal chef each day. I have an inkling that part of it is because he feels guilty about his over-the-top jealous boyfriend act at the opening party; things between us were a little strained for about a day or so. However, there's nothing like really excellent food prepared by a total hottie to smooth over little annoyances like that. This afternoon, though, the entire house is silent and empty. I wonder if he's gone out . . . maybe a job interview? He didn't mention anything this morning, but if he got the call after I left for the hospital, he might have forgotten to text me. I drop my handbag onto a stool at the kitchen counter and am about to head for my room to c
Jenny"Thank God and a goose, it's Friday." I kick off my shoes and drop onto the couch. Across the room, in the kitchen, Nico is standing at the stove where I've come to expect him to be at the end of each day. Of course, since the Mollie incident of a week ago, I never assume that he'll be there alone. Nico's ex-or more accurately, his on-again, off-again friend with benefits-had turned out to be as nice as he'd claimed. The three of us had a great time at dinner, once I relaxed. But still . . . I'm coming to realize that this interlude with Nico is just that: a brief epoch in time when we're both living under the same roof, flirting a little and having fun. I'm fully aware, though, that the day is coming soon when he'll finally get a job and move. Or maybe he'll meet someone and fall in love, and I won't be able to stand watching it happen at close range-so I'll be the one to move out. Either way, it's bound to happen. For now, I'm just enjoying every minute that things are
Jenny"Nico! Put me down! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I'm yelling the words as if maybe he won't hear me, but there's little chance of that, since my head is dangling just south of his ears. I'm probably breaking his eardrums. I don't really care, though, because I'm the worst combination of emotions: I'm hurt by his refusal to listen to me, I'm frustrated by the way he revved me up and then shut me down, and I'm furious that he slung me over his shoulder and is carrying me-again. When I made my stubborn declaration back at the lake, Nico had knelt in front of me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me again. My heart began to pound out a staccato, and I almost reached for him. But instead of easing me to my back onto the picnic blanket, he scooped me up, flinging me over his shoulder, and then grabbed the rest of our gear and stalked to the car. I hadn't screamed then, but that was only because there were other people at the lake, and they were al
DeaconIt was nearly eleven o'clock, and I was exhausted. But then again, what else was new? The day had been a long one, but not a bad one. We were three weeks into real life for the oncology wing here at St. Agnes Memorial Hospital-the realization of a dream I'd had for years-and real life wasn't always pretty. The patients occupying the rooms on this floor were all seriously ill. Each one was facing pain, incredible suffering and possible death. I never forgot that, not for one minute. They deserved the best we had to give them, even when that meant sacrificing time, energy and any kind of life outside these walls.That was why the telephone call I'd gotten late this afternoon was such shitty timing. The last thing I needed was someone else telling me that I was needed-desperately-thousands of miles away from the hospital where I'd committed my time and energy. There was no way I should have told Erin Lopez that I'd even think about the possibility. I was the head physician i
EMMA"Just who in the blazes do you think you are?"The voice that rang out behind me shook with fury. Anxiety threatened to close my throat, but I kept walking anyway. "Stop!" She was much closer behind me than I'd thought, but still, my step stuttered only slightly. "I said, stop walking." She grasped my upper arm, not so much to hurt me as to get my attention. A large part of me wanted to shake her off and keep running away, but the wiser portion of my mind-and years of training-prevailed. I drew myself up and turned to face her. "I'm sorry-Mrs. Hoskins, was it? Did you need something?" I pasted on what I thought might have passed for a pleasant smile. "I didn't hear you." We both knew I was lying, but she was too fired up to call me on that. "Yes, I do need something. I need you to not go into our patients' room and change their care plan-to tinker with what Dr. Girard has carefully and thoughtfully put in place for their treatment. You have no right." I sucke
EMMAAn hour later, I left Mr. Crew's room, feeling somewhat better than I had when I'd gone in. He wasn't an easy man, that was for sure, but on the other hand, he'd been fighting multiple myeloma for almost four years. He'd been in remission for two years; now, the stem cell transplant that had given him a few years of relative health had to be repeated. He was in the hospital for a clinical drug therapy prior to the next stem cell harvest. The man had been through excruciating pain, crippling illness and fatigue. I couldn't blame him for being tired of more doctors, more questions and more options. Still, he'd opened up enough to listen to me for a while and had seemed amenable to further discussion, once I'd had the time to review his file more thoroughly.Back in the hallway, I wasn't unaware of the eyes that followed me with interest as I wandered toward the staff lounge. The head nurse and I hadn't been exactly circumspect in our disagreement, and if this hospital was lik
EMMAThe humidity wasn't bad today, but it was still muggier than I would've liked. Still, the sun was warm, and there was the slightest breeze keeping me from sweating through my cute little short-sleeved top and pencil skirt.I closed my eyes, lifting my face to the warmth, letting the soft air mend the hurt and upset from this morning. Intentionally relaxing my shoulders, I began the deep-breathing exercises that I knew would help bring me back to center."Is this a private class, or can anyone join?"I jerked up, my eyes flying open. In front of me, nearly blocking the sun, a man was looking down at me. In my surprise, as I squinted at him, I had the fleeting thought that he looked like a god, huge and backlit and impossibly attractive. "Um, what?" Ever the mistress of a snappy comeback, I blinked, trying to take him in.He pointed to me and then waved around the general area. "I figured this had to be a yoga class, right? You were doing that deep-breathing stuff that