Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
EVE
After two days spent trying to find solutions for the funding and waiting to hear back from the position I applied to, work has been taking almost every minute of my time. That and filing a complaint against Chuck for mishandling of my case in the ER.
My phone buzzes as I’m hanging a string of paper snowflakes made by Megan’s class. “Massachusetts number” flashes on the screen, and my stomach does a pirouette filled with hope. And yes, Hallmark movies make me more sentimental.
Also, Adam may have started reading out loud to me again.
“I need some air,” I tell Liz, gesturing to my phone. “I’ll be right back.”
Outside, Pine Creek is in full Christmas glory. The town square glitters with thousands of lights, every lamppost wrapped in garlands with red bows. Shop windows display miniature Christmas villages while families wander between stores, hot chocolate in hand.
I answer the call, stepping in the alleyway near the clinic. “This is Eve.”
“Hello, Eve.” Chuck’s voice slides through the speaker, jarringly out of place in this picture-perfect scene. “I see you’re still hiding out in the middle of nowhere.”
“And you’re still calling from a different number.”
Across the street, Adam appears in the veterinary clinic window, taking LoverBoy, Blanche and Dorothy for a walk. They’re prancing around like they’ve adopted him.
“I’m not hiding, Chuck. I’m working.”
“Working.” He scoffs. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
I watch Adam talk to my dogs. And is he laughing?
“Did you actually need something?” I ask, distracted by the way Adam crouching to bring Dorothy and LoverBoy in his coat to warm them up despite their sweater.
“I’m calling because I’m concerned about your career, Eve.” His voice takes on that rehearsed sincerity I know too well. “This small-town detour isn’t going to look good on your resume.”
To my right, Megan’s class is practicing their Christmas songs, their voices carrying across the square. Megan spots me and waves frantically, nearly knocking over the kid next to her.
“Are you even listening to me?” Chuck’s irritation bleeds through. “This is exactly the problem. You never listen. Even when I’m trying to help you.”
“What do you want, Chuck?” I finally interrupt, my patience wearing thin as I watch Adam crouch to Megan’s level, his jeans pulling tight across his thighs in a way that makes me very warm despite the December chill.
Especially as he shows the kids how to step away from the dogs, to ask for authorization before petting them.
To be gentle and responsible all at once.
He exhales sharply. “Fine. Let me be direct since you’re clearly too busy playing small-town nurse to focus.” His voice shifts to that clipped tone he uses when delivering bad news to patients. “I’m launching a medical podcast next month. The Edison Method.”
This finally captures my full attention. “A podcast?”
“I did send you a text mentioning I was thinking about it. But I’m a man of action, you know that.
I’ll be examining medical errors, protocol violations, patient advocacy gone wrong.
” His voice takes on that academic tone he uses for presentations.
“My first episode is already scripted. ‘When Healthcare Providers Go Rogue: A Case Study.’”
Ice slides down my spine despite the winter sunshine. I see Sally emerge from Rosie’s a couple of feet away, carrying what appears to be last year’s fire department charity calendar. Several women gather around her, giggling as she flips to a specific page.
“The review board cleared me.” My voice sounds hollow, even to myself.
“On technicalities. But podcast listeners don’t care about technicalities, do they?
” His voice softens to that false concern that always preceded his most devastating manipulations.
“They hear about a nurse who questioned a doctor’s orders and endangered a patient. The kind of story that... circulates.”
My attention snaps back to the square, where Sally is now approaching Adam with the calendar. Even from this distance, I can see Adam’s neck flush red.
“That’s not what happened and you know it,” I say, my voice weak as I watch Sally dramatically fan herself while pointing to the calendar page.
“Sure, but the veterinary world is small. Medical circles overlap. Once word gets around about your... history, I wonder how your small-town hero will fare? Guilt by association is a powerful thing, Eve.”
“You’re threatening Adam now?” My fingers grip the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white.
“I’m stating facts. Unless your veterinarian is okay because issues run in his family. Like with his dad. And did you hear Claire is snooping around? In a way that really should get her fired?”
The lump in my throat has turned into a very pointy ice sculpture making it impossible to swallow. Or breathe.
“The podcast is scheduled to launch January 5th. Perfect timing for a fresh start to the new year, don’t you think? Unless...”
“Unless what?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears.
In the town square, Adam is laughing.
What if I walked over there? I could laugh with him. Like I belong in that picture. Like Chuck isn’t ruining everything.
“Unless you reconsider your position. The trauma coordinator role is about to open. Come back to Chicago, withdraw your complaint properly, and I’ll focus the podcast on more... generalized cases. And bring the ornament with you.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
“I’m offering you a chance to protect your future. And his.” Chuck’s voice hardens. “Do you really want to drag this veterinarian down with you?”
The threat isn’t only cruel. It’s tailored. Aimed straight at the part of me that still thinks everything that goes wrong is somehow my fault.
Chuck continues, “Have his name connected to a nurse with questionable judgment? These small towns run on reputation. And his father. Claire…Those mistakes I read about? Whispers could start. And once whispers start…”
He lets the sentence hang, knowing I’ll fill in the blanks.
And I do. Claire could get suspended. Or fired.
Have promotions blocked. Adam’s dad having to defend a mistake from years ago.
His second chance contracts. The parents at school questioning whether they want Adam’s dad around their children.
The college reconsidering his position, not only the funding.
His carefully built life, his future, his dreams, all of them crumbling.
Because of me.
“Think about it.” Chuck’s voice softens, sensing he’s finally gotten through to me. “What are you really doing there? Playing house with dogs and a small-town vet? That’s not the Eve Foster I know.”
I’ve been pacing on the sidewalk now, getting closer to the town square and Adam glances my way, his expression brightening despite the ridiculous antlers. He waves, gesturing for me to join them, while Sally mimes holding a camera, clearly trying to recreate whatever pose made him “Mr. December.”
“Maybe you never knew me,” I manage.
“I knew enough to predict exactly where you’d end up.” Chuck’s voice chills. “You have until after Christmas to decide. Consider it my gift to you.”
The call ends, leaving me standing alone beneath the clinic awning, watching the scene across the street like I’m separated from it by more than just distance.
Everything I’ve come to love about this town—the community, the simplicity, the way everyone looks out for each other—suddenly feels like something I don’t deserve to be part of.
Not when I’ll inevitably bring Chuck’s poison into it.
I force myself to wave back at Adam, but I don’t cross the street. Can’t cross the street. Not when Chuck’s words are still echoing in my head.
People read headlines, not corrections. These small towns run on reputation. Do you really want to drag this veterinarian down with you?
I retreat back into the clinic, functioning on autopilot through the rest of my shift. Take vitals. Note readings. Smile at appropriate moments. But inside, my mind is racing with visions of Chuck’s podcast destroying not just my reputation, but Adam’s too. And his dad.
All the people he helped with the second chance contracts. They could lose everything, too.
Despite my shift being over by six pm, I eat a sandwich and stay an hour more. So, by the time I make it back to our room at the B&B, Adam is in the shower.
And I'm numb.
I sit on the edge of the bed, still in my coat, staring at nothing. Blanche immediately senses my mood, pressing her massive head against my knee with a concerned whine. Dorothy, less emotionally intuitive but equally determined to help, brings me a sock she definitely stole from Adam's drawer.
"Thanks, girls," I murmur, scratching Blanche's ears. "Really helpful."
But as I move back into the office and the girls follow me, Dorothy whines. And that's when I notice the carrier in the corner of the room. Someone must have set it out, probably Sally trying to be helpful during cleaning. But the moment Dorothy spots it, she freezes, her body trembling.
"It's okay," I murmur, but it's too late. Dorothy starts sprinting.
Blanche immediately shifts into a mode I've never seen before, protective, alert, her massive body positioned between the carrier and Dorothy, while LoverBoy is running around without making a noise at all.
Clearly, sensing the issue unfolding. Blanche paces anxiously, herding Dorothy away from the perceived threat, her movements growing increasingly agitated.
"Blanche, easy girl—"
It has to be the carrier. I should have known, when Dorothy started acting up weeks ago about it.