Lost on Ice (Ivy Glen #2)

Chapter One

ABBIE

I swear this job is going to be the death of me.

“Nurse, get me a light,” Mr. Henderson grumbles, pulling a cigarette out of God knows where. The man must have a fucking supplier somewhere, slipping him nicotine left and right. This is the eighth one I’ve caught him with this week.

“Mr. Henderson!” I scolds. “There’s no smoking allowed in here! You shouldn’t be on these things anyway. They’ll kill you.”

“Haven’t you heard, kid? I’m already dyin’,” he scoffs, trying his best to swing his legs off the bed.

“Well, I’m not.” I snatch the cigarette from his fingers. “Unless you light up one of these oxygen tanks with that thing. Then everybody on this unit will blow up.”

He chuckles hoarsely at this. We’ve been through it before.

“Besides,” I explain, breaking up the cigarette and tossing it in the garbage.

“You’re not dying, either. You’re recovering from pneumonia.

Which you will continue to recover from as long as you stay away from these.

” I gently adjust his position in the bed so he’s sitting upright.

Patients always slip down into the most uncomfortable poses.

“Anyway, let’s move on. How about I ask Nurse Georgia to bring up some of that chocolate cake you love so much after dinner? ”

“I suppose that’ll do.” He pouts, crossing his arms. Turning around and rolling my eyes, I leave Mr. Henderson to his pouting. The nurse’s station is right outside his room, and Georgia’s probably already waiting there to get report and then take over from me. I am so ready to punch out.

Sure enough, she’s there. “Abbie,” she mutters while still biting down on her pen, without looking up from the paper on the desk she’s reading.

“Hey, Georgia. I promised Mr. Henderson he could have some of that chocolate cake after dinner if he stopped sneaking cigarettes,” I tell her as I hand over my patient charts.

“There’s a new patient in room 3 recovering from a heart attack.

Her family is something else. Stressful as hell.

You’re probably going to have to put your foot down during visiting hours. ”

She glances over some of the charts, absorbed in them.

“Sounds good, thanks.” She yelps in surprise as a paper snowflake falls from the ceiling and hits her head. “How long do you think they’re going to keep these Christmas decorations up?” She bats the offending paper decoration from her face.

“I don’t know, but I think I’d like to remember UHMC all done up like this.

” I glance around the floor of the Progressive Care Unit.

Cut-out paper Christmas trees handcrafted by the patients in the pediatric wing decorate the walls, and Christmas lights, tinsel, and garlands run along every available surface.

It makes the place look a little less… like a place where kids come when they’re sick -sick.

Our fellow nurse, Katherine, comes up to the station, followed by the attending doctor, Dr. Westbrook. Katherine smirks as she grabs a patient's chart from the counter. “I believe standard holiday etiquette requires us to wait until New Year’s.”

“I think it makes the patients happier,” I note, looking around the room, heart warming at the sight of all the kids’ hard work.

“Easy for you to say, you won’t be around in two weeks when half the bulbs go out and we look like some demented Christmas wonderland,” Katherine quips, handing a chart to Dr. Westbrook.

“Oh, that’s right.” Dr. Westbrook turns to me.

“Abbie, I did see that you put in your two weeks' notice. Is everything… okay?” He pushes his glasses back up his slightly hooked nose. Paul Westbrook has always been kind not just to me, but to all the nurses and other staff at the University of Harrisburg Medical Center. He’s never been like some of the other doctors here, who act like they’re all-knowing and we’re just the worker bees.

He’s easy to work with, and all of his patients love him.

Doesn’t hurt that his writing isn’t the usual doctor chickenscratch, either.

I don’t know why I’m still surprised by how fast gossip travels around here. It’s just the nature of these places. Still, the fact that I’ve only told a few people and Dr. Westbrook already knows about it is unsettling. How many others do too?

“Um, yeah,” I shrug, leaning an elbow on the counter.

“My uncle has owned the clinic in my hometown for years. It’s super small, just him and some support staff.

He’s not really doing well, and the plan has always been for me to take over at some point.

His health is causing that to happen a little sooner than my family and I had hoped. ”

Georgia looks at me with sympathy. “Oh, poor thing. I hope that taking over the clinic runs as smoothly as it can. And hopefully it gives your uncle some time to rest.”

“Hopefully,” I agree, “it’s the same clinic I worked at before I came here, but I haven’t been back in…

what… like, three years? I’m sure not too much has changed.

Little towns like Ivy Glen rarely do.” Hoping that I’m sounding a hell of a lot more nonchalant than I feel about the whole thing, I bend over one of the computers.

“Anyway, let’s do report. I’m ready to get home. ”

Report takes even longer than usual, mostly because everybody won’t stop asking me questions about my departure.

I’m surprised they’re all so interested in my leaving—it’s not like I’ve made any real friends here.

Not because we don’t get along or anything like that, but life has just been so busy since I moved out here.

I haven’t had any time to really build friendships.

“Who’s going to take over as the doctor then, if your uncle isn’t doing well?” Katherine asks right as I’m punching out.

“He’s looking for someone to replace him, and until he gets another doctor in, he’ll still be working.

But hey,” I poke Dr. Westbrook with my elbow, “if you suddenly decide to uproot your life and move to the small town of Ivy Glen, Massachusetts, look up Wixx Medical Clinic and send in an application.” Katherine and Georgia laugh.

“You know, I’ve always been drawn to small-town life,” Dr. Wesbrook says wistfully.

Chuckling and shaking my head, I start heading toward the locker room. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go grab Lilah from daycare.”

“Bye, Abbie.” Georgia waves, and both Dr. Westbrook and Katherine nod before she leans in close to him, both of them turning to look at the patient chart in his hands.

I wonder if he and Katherine have something going on.

Even though fraternization isn’t allowed, it doesn’t stop it from happening.

He may not be my cup of tea, but he’s not unattractive.

Tall and lanky, with blonde hair endearingly messy, but he really is a sweet man.

Katherine could do a lot worse out of all the doctors here.

After grabbing my stuff from my locker and zipping my winter coat up as far as it will go, as well as throwing my beanie over my two Dutch braids, I stalk through the snow-covered parking lot, the air frigid and biting.

After snowing all day, it’s finally stopped falling, and I make it to my car relatively easily.

Once in the driver's seat, I turn it on and try to keep my hands warm while my car heats up.

I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about going back to my old hometown as much as I can.

Returning home with a kid no one but my dad knows about is something I am not looking forward to.

I still have no idea what I’m going to say to Sophie when I see her.

How do you tell your best friend that you had a secret baby and didn’t tell anyone you know but your dad and your ex-college roommate?

Hey, want to meet the reason I’ve been flaky and MIA the last three years?

Somehow, I don’t think that will go over well .

Dad wasn’t happy that I kept my pregnancy a secret from him until I was states away—I can’t even imagine how Sophie will react.

At least Dad’s been to visit frequently over the last couple of years.

I feel guilty asking him to keep my secret, but I haven’t been ready to face the music quite yet.

By the time I pull up into the parking lot of Lilah’s daycare, I’m all worked up about going back home. I knew I’d have to go back to Ivy Glen eventually, but I was not prepared for the reality of it.

Braving the cold yet again, I run into the daycare center run by my friend from college, Beatrice.

She’s actually the reason I came out here to begin with.

Right around the time I found out I was pregnant, she reached out because she had heard about a great program to go from RN to nurse practitioner.

Her sister, Tanya, works as a nurse on the pediatric floor of UHMC and mentioned it to her.

Beatrice is a saint who didn’t mind sharing an apartment with me as a hormonal pregnant woman, and she scoffed when I mentioned moving out immediately after Lilah was born.

She said that we were welcome to stay as long as we needed to, and we stayed until Lilah was a year old.

Between the money I had saved on rent and the money I had put away from working at UHMC, I was not only able to rent my own place but also to afford day care as well.

I’m very lucky I had Beatrice to help me through that time.

If I hadn’t… well, there’s no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't have had any choice but to move home.

Being a single mom is hard enough, but add in work and the extra hours for the nurse practitioner program…

it would have been impossible without her.

Once I reach Lilah’s classroom, I sign her out on the iPad next to the door.

“Mommy!” Lilah looks up immediately from her place on the floor, where she’s playing with blocks with a few other kids and her teacher.