Chapter 21 Ivy
IVY
The truck ride to the hospital is filled with cheerful holiday tunes and the occasional squeak of windshield wipers. The roads are dusted with snow, more slush than sparkle. Christmas lights in many colors blink from brownstones as we pass.
“Remember the time you put the tree up without checking the lights first?” I glance at Dad with a smirk.
He groans dramatically. “Don’t remind me. An entire afternoon of decorating, and bam, half the string was dead. I thought your mother was going to banish me from Christmas altogether.”
The memory makes me giggle. “She almost did, making you drive out for more lights even though it was raining cats and dogs.”
“Worth it. That tree looked like something out of Rockefeller Center.”
More like Rockefeller Center on a budget, I think. “Minus the lopsided angel.”
“You kids picked her. She had character.”
I roll my eyes. “Character? She looked like she’d been through an existential crisis, Dad.”
“That’s family tradition. Nothing’s perfect, but it’s ours.”
“That’s true.”
The music in the background makes me think of another holiday years ago. Dad insisted on singing along to every carol the neighborhood choir performed that season, even though he only knew half the words. Us kids ended up laughing so hard we nearly choked on candy canes.
“The hospital will be pretty quiet tonight, right?” Dad comments as we get closer. “At least compared to the usual.”
“Usually it is as most families visit in the morning. Volunteers run the dinner shifts and cafeteria. The neuro wing has a few who work through the holidays. There’s a quota we follow.”
“Mhmm. Like you do.”
“Dad, you know why I work holidays.” I resist the urge to sigh. We have this conversation every time the holidays roll around. “The pay is better, and I need to save money for the Circuit. To afford the three months off, I have to do twelve months worth of work in nine.”
He sighs, understanding why I work long hours but not liking it. “I know. Still, your mom and I wonder how you’re doing with all the stress at your job and all the extra training.”
There it is. The question I never have a good answer for.
I could tell him about the sleepless nights and the constant grind of pretending I’ve got it all handled.
But what would that fix? Things will ease once I’m back on the Circuit.
Until then, I have to push through, even if I might be closer to burnout than I would like to admit.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s your usual refrain, Bubbles. Even when you’re not.”
“Not sure what to tell you, Dad.” I let out the frustrated sigh I tried to hold in. “No need to worry yourself with my problems.”
“That’s what parents do. Your mom and I are always here to listen if you wanna talk.”
I hate shutting him out, but if I open that door even a crack, everything I’m holding together might spill out. And he doesn’t deserve to bear that weight, even if he would gladly do so.
“That means a lot,” I say, meaning it. Because I love my parents.
The truck rumbles as he pulls up to the hospital entrance, the tires running over a patch of frozen slush. He parks but doesn’t turn it off.
Looking past him through the glass door of the lobby, I spot a string of garland taped to the reception desk. It’s rather pathetic, but at least they’re trying to add holiday spirit to a place filled with trauma. That small effort means something.
Dad reaches over and gives my arm a comforting squeeze. “We love you, Bubbles. No matter what.”
“I love you, too. Thanks for the ride.”
“Anything for you. I better get going before I have to drive slower than Mr. Gonzales.”
I laugh thinking about the ninety-two-year-old who somehow still has his license. “He once waved at me through a four-way stop with both hands off the wheel.”
“God bless him.” Dad chuckles, shaking his head.
I tighten my jacket around me, getting ready for the quick yet chilly walk inside. “I’ll see you next week for hockey and more family time.”
“Now go do what you do best.”
“You mean bossing around doctors twice my age and sneaking patients snacks from the staff break room?”
“Exactly. Save a few lives while you’re at it.”
Checking in on my last patient, an elderly man who has asked what day it is three times in under ten minutes, I update his chart before handing off to the nurse taking over. The hospital gives us a bit more flexibility during the holidays, which means longer breaks.
After wishing my colleague happy holidays, I make my way down the hall toward Teddy’s room.
“Merry Christmas, Theodore,” I greet him the moment I step in, emphasizing his full name to make him smile.
Sure enough, the corners of his mouth tug upward beneath his backward black cap. “Merry Christmas, Ivy Suzanne Campbell.”
“Suzanne is a beautiful name, but not mine, I’m afraid.”
Teddy presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “What is it then?”
“Sunday. You guessed the S part right,” I admit with a chuckle.
“As in the weekend?”
A hum slips out. “My parents couldn’t agree on my middle name, so Nonna told them the answer is in the birthday. I was born in early August, so it could’ve been that, too.”
Teddy tries to prop himself up, his elbow wobbling against the mattress. Before he topples sideways, I steady him. “You on break?” he asks once he catches his breath.
“Yup. Thought I’d spend it with someone who could use the company.”
“I’m stuck here all alone most of the time, so you came to the right place.”
His smile falters, and the truth tucked inside the joke hangs heavy between us. He forces the grin back into place, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Don’t make it sound so tragic,” I tease, bumping his arm gently. “You’ll ruin the holiday spirit.”
He sighs. “But it is. But that’s not what today is all about.”
“What is it about, then?”
“Did I make the nice list this year?”
His question makes me roll my eyes. “Debatable.”
“You wound me. Don’t be such a Grinch.”
“I’m not! I actually brought you something.” Pulling the small, badly wrapped gift from my scrub pocket, I set it in his lap. “Don’t get too excited.”
He fidgets, adjusting the cap on his head, and smooths his matching loungewear set like he’s not sure what to do with his hands. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” I say, glancing at the raised edge of the hospital bed. “Is it okay if I sit with you in bed for a minute?”
“Please,” he says, squeezing his body to the other side to make space.
I lower the rail and take my shoes off, curling my legs up as I ease in. He carefully unwraps the box. When his fingers land on the item inside, his brows shoot up in puzzlement. “What is it?”
“A MP3 player.”
“No fucking way.” He grins widely, turning it over in his hands like treasure. “These still exist? I haven’t used one since, what, 2010?”
“This brand was the best option because it has buttons instead of a touchscreen. It’s connected to my phone and has a voiceover playlist navigation when you press here,” I guide his index finger to show where.
“I also created a curated playlist with close to three hundred songs, so you shouldn’t get tired of it anytime soon. ”
“You’re kind of amazing.” Awe colors his voice, his eyes sparkling. “Now that my headaches are easing, I was hoping for something to do besides sitting here in silence. This is perfect. Thank you, Ivy.”
I’m glad he likes it as I wanted to give him something that I love. Music has always been my safe place. He taps the play button, and a song starts playing through the in-ear earbuds connected to the device. I recognize it as “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World, one of my all-time favorites.
After the first chorus, he pauses it. “What type of music does it have in addition to this absolute banger?”
“Mostly rock with a bit of alt and emo—the stuff I grew up on. There are some indie tracks you might not have heard, too. If you want to remove some songs or add more, let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
He turns his head toward me, appreciation clear on his face. “This means a lot.” He reaches under his pillow. “Alright. My turn.”
A shocked gasp leaves my lips. “You bought me a gift?”
“I wanted to show my appreciation," he hands me a jewelry box. “Because without you, this place would feel much colder and emptier.”
The sting of tears comes quickly, blurring my vision as I carefully lift the lid. Nothing could have prepared me for the stunning silver bracelet with two delicate charms. One of them is a snowflake and the other is a tiny lightning bolt, matching the one we both have inked on our bodies.
“Teddy, it’s beautiful. I—” I stop mid-sentence, using the sleeve of my scrub top to wipe the falling tears.
Teddy wraps an arm around me, pulling me to him. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s supposed to be a good memory.”
“The best,” I manage, though my voice wavers. “I love everything about it.”
My fingers linger on the charms, still shocked at how he picked such a perfect gift. The bracelet catches the light, a shining reminder that he sees me in a way few people ever have.
“I chose the lightning bolt because it means strength and you should never lose yours.” He clears his throat. “Then, I got you the snowflake to remember our first snowfall together. That memory will probably stay with me for the rest of my life. I want you to remember it, too.”
“I will. You got it exactly right,” I whisper, fastening the bracelet onto my wrist.
Relief softens his features. “Good. I was nervous, if I’m being honest.”
“You, Theodore Seaborn, nervous?”
“Shocking, I know. I second-guessed every decision while picking the gift, wondering if it was too much or not enough. Believe it or not, I almost went with a cookbook instead.”
An unladylike snort leaves me. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m a terrible cook.”
“That’s settled; I’ll never buy you anything for the kitchen.”
“Smart man.” I take the MP3 player from him, popping in one of the earbuds. Tapping his hand, I offer him the other. “You ready for more music?”
“More than ready.”
I hit play, and the soft guitar intro of a classic rock hit starts.
He closes his eyes, head resting on my shoulder.
The backward cap tilts as he relaxes, the casual gesture making him look effortlessly boyish and relaxed.
I brush my fingers over the bracelet, admiring the thoughtfulness behind the gift.
Glancing sideways at him, I catch a content smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands rest in his lap, fingers tapping to the beat. Teddy looks completely at ease, and I cherish seeing him this way.
“You ever listen to music in the dark?”
I worry at my lip ring, stalling for a breath. “Not in a couple of years,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Close your eyes and feel the music. Nothing else.”
I do as he suggests. We fall into the moment together. The songs fade into new ones until we’ve sat through twenty minutes of them and my break is close to being over.
Teddy yawns when I press pause and turns his head toward me.
We’re sitting so close—closer than I meant to be.
I can’t stop admiring him from this angle.
There’s a unique swirl of blue and green in his irises.
His lashes are ridiculously long, the kind women pay good money to fake.
Then there’s that slutty little nose ring.
My personal kryptonite. And let’s not forget his cologne, which is my new favorite smell.
Everything in me wants to lean in and kiss those tempting lips the same way I have in my dreams. But it would be such a terrible idea in real life. Instead, I force myself to stand, the mattress rising slightly.
His eyes flicker. Not with surprise, but something else. Disappointment? No, it can’t be.
“I thought my Uncle Jake showing up was the best part of my Christmas,” he says softly. “Now…I’m not so sure.”
“Careful, you’re setting the bar pretty high,” I murmur, heat creeping up my neck.
The phone vibrates on the side table, catching his attention. Teddy reaches for it with practiced ease. “Hey Siri, read my recent messages.”
“You have recent messages from Jasper ?kerman. Jasper ?kerman said: Hey, best man. She said yes! We’re getting married in July. This might be the best day of my life.”
“Holy shit,” he breathes, a radiant smile breaking across his face.
It lights him up from the inside, softening the rough edges of the last few weeks.
The sight of it hits me right in the heart.
I’m caught between grinning like an idiot and begging him to stop being so damn adorable before I cry in front of him.
“Tell him that I send my congratulations.”
“Will do.”
My fingers trace the bracelet on my wrist, lingering on the snowflake charm again. After a moment, I carefully unclasp the gift and tuck it into the breast pocket of my scrub top. It’ll be safe there, close to my heart.
“My break is over,” I admit reluctantly, not wanting to leave the warm cocoon of our little Christmas celebration. “I should get back before Ellie comes looking for me.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Guess I’ll have to share you with the rest of the hospital, then.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I’m grateful he can’t see the flush spreading there. The fact that he wants my company enough to sound almost possessive makes me feel lucky to be let into his world like this.
“Try to get some rest after the exciting day you’ve had.”
“I’ll try. Thanks for spending Christmas with me.”
“Anytime, Theodore.”
I step into the hallway, a grin stretching across my face as I head for the nurses’ station. The past hour has turned this into the best holiday I’ve had in years. And I’ll carry the memories with me long after the decorations come down.