Chapter 30 EVE
Chapter thirty
EVE
Progress report:
Job search: Still rejections. Still waiting on the job posting at LC Hospital. And yes, I added Cape Cod Regional to my job alerts. For research.
Adam update? I… care. A lot.
The pipes are still groaning. But not as much leaking in the East Wing. Not that I’m asking about room updates. And the reviewer has been smiling more and more.
As I stroll down Main Street with LoverBoy trotting alongside me on his leash, I approach Mike's garage. Some people wave and a few even greet LoverBoy by name. His tiny legs work overtime to keep pace, but he seems determined not to let me out of my sight.
"You got to show me this town," Claire says through FaceTime, yawning as she throws her bag onto the floor and kicks off her shoes.
"Shouldn't you go to bed?" I ask, recognizing the bone-deep exhaustion of post-night shift.
"It was a hard night. I need Hallmark-movie-like real life." She squints at me as I wave at Noelle. "It's nice to see you smile like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you won't apologize about it."
My smile reaches all the way to my eyes. I switch to the rear camera to show her the town and the garage.
"Is that... a real reindeer?" she asks.
"Nope. That's a horse stable behind the garage and a field."
"Interesting," she replies cautiously. Claire's fear of horses has been well-documented since our nursing school trip to a therapeutic riding center. "They're big."
I try to suppress my amusement but it's a lost cause when she continues, "Like really big."
"Hmm-hmm." I switch back to my face. "Don't worry, they're safely behind a fence."
I approach the garage as she updates me on the latest hospital gossip.
"So, I may have started snooping around."
"What do you mean?" I stand a little straighter, instantly alert.
"Okay, I didn't start. I continued... there's something fishy in the Kingdom of Chuck.
He found a way to get the entire ethics committee against you.
Well, almost all of it. And he's been pissed.
" She pauses. "He continues posting pictures and reels and more videos, but he's been losing some followers.
Can't be good." Another pause. "Also... what is up with that music? That's cute."
Not the kind of music I'd expect in a garage. It's the soundtrack of Moana. The cheerful melody completely out of place among the tools and motor oil I can smell from here.
"Hi, I'm—"
A little boy rushes toward me, all energy and Christmas-themed light-up sneakers, but he stops short when he spots LoverBoy, his eyes widening with delight. "LoverBoy! You came back!"
To my surprise, LoverBoy dashes forward, circling the boy's feet with unmistakable excitement.
"You know each other?" I ask, confused.
The little boy giggles, crouching to let LoverBoy lick his hands. "I'm Jamie! Me and my dad volunteer at the rescue shelter on weekends. LoverBoy was our favorite, but he kept running away!"
"Is your dad around?" I glance toward the garage, falling into pediatric protocol.
"There," Jamie points. "We live alone. My mom lives in California now with twin babies. We do video calls on Sundays." He says this matter-of-factly. "Dad says we're still a family, just spread out more than most."
He takes a careful breath from his inhaler with practiced familiarity.
"Dad! Look who's here!" Jamie calls excitedly. "It's LoverBoy!"
I turn to see a man emerging, wiping his hands on a rag. "Remember what Dr. Adam said about getting too excited around dogs, buddy."
"Eve, right?" He flips his cap backwards, revealing dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass.
"Is there something in those zucchinis in Pine Creek?" Claire doesn't whisper. She never does, not even during nursing school finals. I'm asking myself the same question though. This man has shoulders that strain against his hoodie and dark eyes that see right through you.
"Mike is hot," Claire states matter-of-factly but with underlying humor. "That is a fact. Not an opinion. I bet he rescues puppies too."
"You're not on Bluetooth." I try to keep my face neutral while simultaneously attempting to end the call with my thumb.
Mike bends down to help Jamie, who's showing LoverBoy a trick with a tiny car, the movement showcasing both impressive biceps and a surprising gentleness. And I swear Claire swoons on the other side of the phone.
"Dad, can I show LoverBoy the toy car you fixed?" Jamie asks, already pulling at Mike's hand.
"In a minute, buddy." Mike crouches down to his son's level. "Why don't you go get it from the office while I talk to Miss Eve about her car? And don't forget your breathing exercises."
Jamie nods seriously before dashing off, turning once to call, "Don't go anywhere, LoverBoy!" Though his eyes track the boy's movements, LoverBoy stays by my side.
When Mike straightens up, Claire sighs. "Okay, I'm going to take a nap. Alone. Have fun in Zucchini-land, Evie love."
My cheeks heat as I end the call. "She's sleep-deprived."
"She's something," Mike murmurs, adjusting his cap again. "And Zucchini-land?" His eyebrow rises as he crosses his arms. Where Adam is all lean strength and height, Mike is broad-shouldered bulk. Like the football players on the Eagles poster in town.
"Long story. So you volunteer at the animal shelter?"
Mike nods. "After Jamie's mom moved to California, he was pretty lost. The shelter visits started as a way to give him a consistent activity." His voice softens. "Turns out rescuing works both ways."
"True." I shift on my feet. "I love the Moana soundtrack."
He smiles. "Jamie picks the music. Says shelter animals liked Disney songs, so cars must too."
"Dad! I found it!" Jamie races back, carrying a detailed model car. LoverBoy's ears perk up as the boy approaches, but he stays firmly by my side until Jamie kneels to show him the toy, making gentle "vroom" sounds that have LoverBoy's head tilting curiously.
"LoverBoy was our special project," Mike explains. "Three foster homes, three escapes. No matter how secure the enclosure, he always found a way out. Until—"
"Until me?" I finish, surprised.
"Until Adam brought you in," Mike corrects. "It clicked. He found what he was looking for." Not sure if we're speaking about the dog anymore.
"I guess sometimes it takes a while to find where you belong."
"And sometimes," Mike adds, "where you belong finds you when you're not even looking for it. And sometimes it’s a person. And not a place.” He gestures for me to follow him. "You've been doing great work at the clinic. My mom was there the other day and she mentioned how helpful you were."
"Thanks." My gaze travels around his office. He's got posters of old cars. And a few diplomas. Including a J.D.? Lawyer, mechanic and horse wrangler?
"I ordered the part. And we'll figure something out for payment."
"I really want to pay you." The part of me that's been too dependent on my ex before kicks in. I'm still a work in progress.
"It'll be paid."
Okay. The man is cryptic. Jaime runs back toward us and Mike smiles at him in a way that transforms his whole face and I'm tempted to take a picture for Claire.
Or Julie.
Inspiration for her book.
"So," Mike says, leaning forward on his desk with that knowing look that small-town residents seem to perfect. "Interesting timing with those pipes," he continues, his expression too casual to be genuine. "They've got quite the reputation around town."
"For convenient malfunctions?" I ask dryly.
"Let's say those pipes have been playing matchmaker longer than Sally has. My parents met during a burst pipe incident in '85. Adam's folks rekindled their marriage there." He taps his pen against the invoice. "Those pipes are batting a thousand when it comes to relationships."
"Sentient plumbing with romantic intentions? Really?"
"Hey, I'm just the mechanic," Mike shrugs, but his tone is gentle when he adds, "But for what it's worth, Adam hasn't looked this alive or happy in years. Maybe thank the pipes for that."
I roll my eyes with a half-grin on my face. "I'll send them a card."
He nods. And when his phone rings, I excuse myself, making my way back, stopping in front of the pop-up bookstore with its sign: "Book Club Today: Come Discuss Dante's Secrets. 18+"
Margaret sent me a text yesterday about it. Sally mentioned it at breakfast. And I’m here…
I stare through the window, hesitating. The store has cute Pine Creek ornaments that would go well with my crocheted emotional support pickles. LoverBoy sits expectantly at my feet.
"I don't think dogs are allowed in bookstores," I tell him.
He tilts his head skeptically as an elderly woman enters with a Pomeranian in her purse. She spots LoverBoy and smiles. "They're very pet-friendly," she assures me. "Sally insists. Says books and dogs both nourish the soul. You could join us."
I could. I will.
With a thoughtful glance at LoverBoy, I scoop him up and enter the bookstore. We’re greeted by laughter and the smell of coffee and apple pie. LoverBoy perks up, nose twitching.
“This is the size.” Sally holds up a gigantic zucchini, but it’s not what stops me.
Because in the middle of the circle? The Lady Grey.
The author of Dante’s Secrets laughing with tears running down her face.
The woman whose steamy scenes Adam quoted while doing things that made me forget my medical history.
“Evie Love!” Margaret waves, her smile widening when she spots my companion. “And you brought LoverBoy! Look how social he’s become. I remember when he wouldn’t even come out from behind the shelter crates during my volunteer shifts.”
Within minutes, I have coffee (decaf Blue Mountain—one I tasted from Adam’s coffee tower) with pumpkin spice creamer and apple pie that smells like childhood.
LoverBoy has charmed his way onto Lady Grey’s lap where he now looks like he’s posing for Chihuahua Monthly as she explains her dilemma.
“My son forbids me to use the name Damian in my books,” she says, rolling her eyes.