A Puppy on the 34th Ward
Auteur·e
Juliette Hyland
Lectures
19,5K
Chapitres
17
CHAPTER ONE
“LIKE THE DECORATIONS?”
A staffer Dr. Nick Walker didn’t know smiled brightly as they hung another pretend candy along the corridor of Ward 34.
He nodded, though the truth was that he didn’t really care for holiday decor. “Quite festive.”
“We’re adding a few new things this year.”
“I’m sure it will look great.” The kids who had to visit the pediatric wing during Christmastime would love it. Anything to make little ones and their parents, who’d rather be anywhere else, happy was good with Nick.
However, he had no way of determining if this year was grander than the last. Since completing his residency, he’d spent no more than two years in any one place.
And today was his first full day at Boston Beacon Hospital. So the clock was already ticking. He might see Ward 34’s decor next year, but after that...
His chest tightened at the thought of moving, even if it was his choice now. As a military kid, he’d moved almost every two years as his father had chased bigger and bigger assignments. Nick had lived in four countries and eight states at thirty-six.
Part of him always wondered if this was the last place.
Boston was nice. But so were most cities. That was one lesson he’d learned moving his things from one part of the world to another: Find out what made each place tick. Locate the best pizza joint, the ideal coffee hub and at least one fun hole-in-the-wall only the locals knew about, and anywhere could feel like home.
For a while at least.
“Dr. Walker.” Dr. Javi Pascal raised his hand as he walked over with a young woman. A new hire... Nick knew the routine. He’d been introduced after his orientation last week.
“Dr. Nick Walker, this is Nurse Ailani Kekoa.”
“Nice to meet you.” Nick offered his hand. He’d been the new person in so many places—he understood the nerves. Not that the nurse with the bright smile looked nervous.
“Nick is our newest pediatrician,” Javi continued. “Today is his first day on the floor, in fact.”
“I guess that means you can’t recommend any good restaurants or coffee shops?” Ailani gestured out the window to the Boston skyline.
“Fraid not,” he offered without following her gaze. The Boston skyline was beautiful, but it was just another city, another layover point in life. “But if you hear of any, let me know.”
“I’m sure my roommate will tire of me peppering her with questions, but if I find any, I’ll pass them along. Newbies help each other out, right?”
“Right.”
“Oh, I see another doctor...”
“That’s my cue.” Ailani waved goodbye as she followed Javi down the hallway.
Nick turned his attention back to the tablet chart. He had four patients he needed to see before lunch, and one was being discharged. Always a good day.
He clicked two more buttons, then felt pressure against his legs. Looking down, Nick blinked twice as the golden retriever wagged its tail. As a pediatrician, he was used to little ones grabbing his leg.
The occasional sibling getting loose from their understandably exhausted parents.
A dog, dressed as a Christmas tree and wearing a star headband, rubbed its nose against his leg again. This was a first.
“Honey!” The thick Boston accent was attached to one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
“Sorry—Honey doesn’t normally wander.” The white woman made several hand gestures, and the dog sat, then lay at her feet.
Her green eyes met his, and Nick found himself at a loss for words. He’d connected with a few people in his nomadic life, but he’d never met someone and felt this gut punch.
The woman cleared her throat, and Nick shook his head. “Sorry—it’s my first day on the floor.”
“Bryn Bedford.” She held out her hand, and Nick clasped it. The connection was brief but somehow intense.
Not that that made any sense.
“Nick Walker.”
“Nice to meet you, Nick. This naughty one is Honey.”
He pursed his lips as he looked at the dog. He hated being the bearer of bad news, but dogs—even ones dressed in such cute regalia—weren’t technically allowed.
“It’s nice to meet Honey, and she is adorable, particularly in her tree outfit.” He cleared his throat. “But this is a hospital.”
“Really?” Bryn’s green eyes sparkled as he stated the obvious. Then she bent and lifted the tree, showing off the patch on the back that said Therapy Dog.
“Honey is one of the Paws for Hope therapy dogs.”
“And dressed as a Christmas tree?”
Bryn laughed, a sound that seemed to go straight to his soul. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. She loves dressing up, and I lose all willpower when I see a cute dog outfit. I think she has more outfits than I do. In fact, I know that’s true as my closet is more than half hers, and I’m the one that buys the outfits.
“My...” She paused and looked at Honey. When she looked back at Nick, a bit of the sparkle had left her eyes. “Someone once told me I treat her as a dress-up doll.”
She spoke to Honey, “But it’s just because you are so cute.”
The dog was adorable... Bryn even more so. “I’ve not had much interaction with therapy animals.”
“Do you have a few minutes? I can show you what Honey can do. I’m scheduled to see Lucas before he’s discharged.”
“Lucas is on my rounds list, so why don’t we go together?”
“Great.” Bryn and Honey walked beside him.
“What support is Honey offering Lucas? I thought therapy dogs were usually here to see patients that were stuck here for a while. Discharge day is usually one of the best days.”
“Usually.” Bryn sighed as she rubbed a hand over Honey’s head. “But one of Lucas’s moms is in the army. They were being PC—something, it means moved...”
“PCS’d. Permanent Change of Station.” It was a phrase Nick had heard so often around the dinner table. His father’s life had revolved around receiving PCS orders. Once his siblings had gone into the military, they’d sent notes to the family group chat every time a new location had come in.
A group chat they’d kicked him out of when he’d left West Point Military Academy before his second year to pursue his own dreams.
Or quit...according to his father.
His life was the only one not controlled by orders. And yet he hadn’t put down permanent roots.
“That’s it! PCS’d. They were moving cross country when the appendicitis struck. It’s why he’s here and not at a base hospital somewhere. And his mom had to head onto her... I want to say office. That’s not right, though. Starts with a D.” Bryn tapped on her forehead, like she was trying to pull the phrase from her brain.
This was another phrase Nick could provide. “Duty station.”
“You know all the lingo. That will help.”
Bryn’s words were bright, but Nick wasn’t sure. Sure, he knew military lingo, but helping a kid sad about moving...there were no quick fixes for that.
“So Honey is along to cheer him up.”
Bryn shook her head. “I prefer to think of it as Honey is here to offer what Lucas needs. She can give cuddles, pets, a soft place to cry. Or cheer, if that’s what the patient needs.”
Nick looked at the happy golden, its tail wagging as the star bounced on her headband. She looked cheerful, but he knew that not every patient was ready for cheer. Even one getting ready for discharge. “That is a nice thought.”
“Honey has been a therapy dog for two years. She’s quite skilled at recognizing what patients need.”
“And how long have you been a therapy-dog handler?” The door to Lucas’s room came into view. Nick had moments left with Bryn Bedford—and he wanted to savor all of them.
“Honey is my first therapy dog.”
“What did you do beforehand?”
An emotion passed over Bryn’s eyes that sent a knife to his heart.
How often had someone asked him something personal and he panicked? He was the black sheep of his family, the one who’d “refused” to serve his country, at least according to his father. The general had never seen a life outside of uniform as serving, never seen his children as more than an extension of his success.
All of that added up to a ton of questions Nick never answered. If one got trophies for creative ways to change topics, he’d have a wall full of gold.
“We’ve arrived.” He made too big of a gesture as they got to Lucas’s door. But he wanted her to feel comfortable, get them back on the easy footing they’d had before he’d dug too deep.
“So we have.” Bryn’s green eyes met his before she looked at Honey. “Shall we let this girl go first?”
“Sure.” Nick was curious to see the dog in action. Most of his interactions with dogs were as service animals. Working dogs.
Honey was a working dog, but it was different. Her role was comfort.
“Hi, Lucas. Can Honey come in?”
Giving a choice. Nick smiled. That was something so many adults forgot to offer children.
“Yes!” The little boy’s voice was bright as he patted the bed.
Honey looked at Bryn, who motioned with her hand, then jumped up and put two paws on the bed.
Lucas leaned over and kissed the top of Honey’s head. “I’m leaving today. So I won’t see you again.” He said the words, then sucked back a sob.
How many times had Nick done that as a child? Be strong, never quit was the family motto.
“I don’t see a lot of people again.” Lucas’s words were whispered, but his mother heard them.
Bryn stepped to his mother’s side and offered her a hand. The woman squeezed it as she stood a little taller.
“I know it’s rough, Lucas, but Fort Drum will be fun. It gets lots of snow.” His mother’s bright smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was clear she was trying to do her best.
The boy said nothing as he leaned his head against Honey’s.
“I’m Dr. Walker.”
“You’re here so I can go to Fort Drum?”
“Yes.” Nick stepped close and got down, so his face was eye level with Lucas. “My dad was in the army.”
Lucas’s head popped up. “You moved a lot?”
“Every two years.” Nick hit the watch on his hand. “Like clockwork. I’ve lived all over the world.”
“My mom has only been stateside, never OCONUS.”
OCONUS—outside the Continental United States. A phrase only a military kid understood.
“My dad was everywhere.”
But never at home.
Those were words that did not need to be spoken.
His father had focused on his career. And only his career. And his mother, a career diplomat, had been gone nearly as much. The fact that they’d had four children when they’d spent years separated by continents was a miracle.
Besides, Nick’s experience was not the path that most members of the armed forces chose. He’d watched many fathers and mothers in uniform pick up their kids from school. Attend school plays, do all the things civilian parents did.
“It’s not fun to move, is it?”
“No.” Lucas’s lip trembled as his hand stroked Honey’s soft coat.
The dog shifted a paw and looked at him. Nick could swear she understood all the words, though rationally he knew Honey was likely just responding to the tension in the young one.
“But this is the last one.” Lucas looked to his mother, who nodded.
“The last one?”
“Mom is retiring after this station. She says we’re staying in Watertown. That’s next to Fort Drum. She grew up there.” He sighed as he bopped Honey’s nose.
“That’s great. So one more new place, one more new school.” Nick grinned. The last location was the best news a family constantly on military orders could get.
He’d met a few kids whose parents followed Lucas’s mom’s path—did their best to land their last duty location as close to home as possible.
“Where was the last place for you?”
There wasn’t one. Not really. Though Nick knew what Lucas was asking.
“DC.” The District of Columbia. His father had stationed at the Pentagon as the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff, literally incapable of achieving more in his career. His mother, not to be outdone, had spent the final years of her life rising in the ranks of the State Department, both more comfortable in White House briefings than their living room.
“Shall we look at your incision now?”
“Can Honey stay?”
Nick looked to Bryn, her smile eating away at the homesickness the conversation with Lucas had unintentionally brought on. “Can she?”
“Of course.” Bryn stepped toward the bed. “But she needs to be at your feet while Dr. Walker looks at your belly.”
Bryn snapped out a quick rhythm, and Honey pulled her paws off the bed, then jumped up and curled at Lucas’s feet. A golden blanket over his legs.
Lifting his shirt, Lucas pointed to the three holes in his lower abdomen. “I’ve seen so many doctors. Even one I wasn’t supposed to!”
Nick looked at Lucas’s mother with a raised brow.
“A Dr. Murphy stopped in this morning. I think he meant to be in a different room. He was a tad flustered.”
“Dr. Murphy is one of our surgeons. Always busy.”
Bryn’s voice was light, but Nick heard the unstated: Great with kids, but a little gruff if you aren’t his patient.
“Why do so many doctors have to look at me?”
Nick let out a chuckle and motioned for Lucas to lower his shirt. “Well, your surgeon checks you out because he yanked out that yucky appendix using a special technique called laparoscopic surgery. I’m a pediatrician. That means I specialize in children’s medicine. The hospital just wants to make sure you get to see everyone.”
“So you don’t get sued.”
“Lucas!” His mother crossed her arms.
The little one hung his head, and Honey sat up so he could rub between her ears. “Sorry.”
The mumbled word wasn’t heartfelt, but Nick didn’t mind.
“You’re going to be sore for another week or so. If you notice anything coming out of the holes, if they itch or hurt really bad, you need to tell one of your moms, all right?”
Lucas nodded, not looking away from the therapy dog.
“The wounds are already scabbing on the edges. That’s a wonderful sign. Infection is rare, but if he spikes a fever over a hundred and one, take him to the ER. Otherwise, a nurse will be in shortly with discharge papers, and you’ll be on your way.”
His mom nodded and moved to Lucas’s side. “Time to say goodbye to Honey now.”
He leaned over the bed, gripped the dog’s neck and let out a soft cry. “Bye, Honey. I’ll try to remember you.”
The phrase tore through Nick. He’d said exactly those words or heard them whispered through tears as a friend whose name and a face were gone from his memory had hugged him.
The life of a kid on the move.
“But this is the last stop.” Nick offered the boy a smile but knew it didn’t heal the hurt he felt right now.
Nick looked at Lucas’s mom. “Good luck. I hope you enjoy the snow.”
“We do.” She ran her hand through Lucas’s hair. “All right, sweetheart, you need to let Honey do her job and go see others.”
Lucas squeezed her one more time, then pulled back. “Bye, Honey.”
“It was nice to meet you.” Bryn snapped her fingers again, and Honey padded to her side. Bryn picked up her leash, straightened Honey’s star headband and headed for the door.
Nick followed. “Honey was great in there.”
“She usually is.” Bryn ran her hand along the dog’s head. “However, you were the actual star. If her headband wasn’t covered in dog fur, I’d offer it to you. You’ve really lived all over?”
“Four countries and eight states.”
“Wow.” She shook her head. “I’ve been in Boston my whole life.”
“The accent kind of gives that away.” Nick grinned, enjoying the tilt of her head and the fiery expression crossing her green eyes a little too much.
“I don’t have an accent. You do.”
“Of course.” He laughed, enjoying the interaction. Bryn was gorgeous in her bright holiday sweater, with a sweet golden retriever at her heels. Picture perfect...and Nick was the furthest thing from it.
“I’m off to see Susie Cole. They admitted her last night. Do you want to see if she likes dogs, too?” The question was out before he thought it through. He was working. It was his first day, but he was hoping Bryn and Honey would tag along.
She looked at her phone, pulling up the note tracker. “Susie is on my list.”
“List?”
“Yes. Honey is the goodest girl.” Her tone shifted up, and Honey’s ears tipped up, too.
Nick wasn’t even sure Bryn was aware of the tonal shift.
She looked at him, and the hit of recognition rocked through him again. There was something about this woman that called to him.
Maybe he was just lonelier than he wanted to admit. He’d stayed in Phoenix for almost eighteen months. Gotten close to his colleagues, even briefly considered staying. But his mind refused to settle, so he’d set off again.
The military kid unable to stay still, even though he’d refused to wear the uniform.
That must’ve been it. The reason his mind was reaching for connection.
“Intake makes sure the patients and their grown-ups are comfortable with therapy-dog visits. You don’t know about allergies or what home life is like. If a child fears dogs, it doesn’t matter how sweet Honey is, that will just upset them.” Bryn shrugged. “And if their grown-ups don’t want them around dogs for whatever reason, you want to honor that.”
“Their grown-ups?” She’d said that twice.
“Not everyone has parents.” Lines pulled at the corners of her eyes, and her smile faltered a little.
Families came in all shapes and sizes. His family was technically what most people thought of. A mom and dad, with quite a few siblings, but it was far from picture perfect. “I always use the term guardians.”
“That’s good. But if a sister or brother raises you, or an aunt or grandparent... I don’t know, a teacher friend of mine uses it in her classes, and I stole it.”
They’d arrived at Susie’s room. That wasn’t a surprise. The pediatric wing took up the entire second floor, but it didn’t take long to walk between areas. Still, he craved more time with the woman beside him.
Yep, loneliness was setting in. Luckily, Nick had a lifetime of learning how to deal with that. When he got home, he’d pop in one of his favorite movies, grab some popcorn and a soda, and chill.
“Ready?” Bryn’s smile was perfection, and he had to take a deep breath.
Focus.
“Of course.”
Bryn cut her eyes to Nick as they walked through Susie’s door. The new doctor was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. His deep brown eyes seemed to peer right through her.
He looked like he belonged on the set of television drama. The kind where every doctor was hot as hell and the entire floor was dating each other. Drama and lifesaving antics happening constantly and all wrapped up nicely in an hour.
Or at least by the end of the two-part special.
Life wasn’t that way. There was a reason so many books, blogs and Human Resources pamphlets recommended not dating in the workplace.
Not that Bryn needed reminding. One doctor ex-husband was more than enough.
Her thumb slipped to her empty ring finger. Almost a year since her marriage had ended. Two days into her honeymoon.
For reasons Ethan had never fully explained but that had basically boiled down to her not being “the right fit.” A harsh statement considering how much of herself she’d seemed to bottle up during their relationship.
“Puppy!” Susie’s bright call broke through the unhappy memories.
The little one looked tired but not nearly as sick as her intake form indicated. Bryn didn’t get many details, but as Ward 34’s part-time therapy-dog handler, she had the basics.
And since she was a registered nurse, she could read between the lines better than most. She’d loved nursing. Another thing the implosion of her marriage had stolen.
Susie’s blond curls were a mess, but her eyes were bright. No hint of the fainting that had brought her in.
“You look like you’re feeling better this morning.” Nick stepped next to Susie’s bed.
“I want to go home.” She stuck her bottom lip out and crossed her arms.
Her mother yawned, then frowned. “I know, Susie, but we have to find out why you fainted yesterday.” The woman rubbed her hands together as she looked at Nick. “I’m Ellen. Susie’s mom. I’m almost thinking I overreacted. It’s been...been a year.”
Honey nudged Bryn’s leg, but she didn’t release her. Dogs picked up on emotions, and it was clear that Ellen was deep in her feels. She had a daughter in the hospital, but that didn’t explain the year comment.
If Ellen wanted to pet Honey, then she was more than welcome to, but Honey had to wait.
“Tell me a bit about what happened.” Nick leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, his eyes fully directed at Ellen. Ready to take in the information.
Seriously, in blue scrubs with his stethoscope hanging from his pocket, the man was gorgeous.
“Mommy!” Susie looked over at Honey.
Nick looked at Bryn. “Can Honey sit with Susie while I talk to her mom?”
“Of course.” Bryn dropped Honey’s leash, then snapped out the release code she’d trained Honey with.
The golden wandered over to the bed, her tail wagging as she waited for Bryn to snap again, telling her it was okay to put two paws on the bed.
“My husband...” Ellen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “He’s been gone.”
“And he can’t video chat,” Susie interjected.
Ellen pursed her lips, then smiled at her daughter. “He’s going to be so surprised at how much you’ve grown.”
Her stance sent alarm bells through Bryn. How many times had her mother said something like that? Daddy will be so surprised at how big you are. It’s okay—his trip just took too long. He’ll pick you up next weekend.
It wasn’t until she’d been almost a teen that she’d pushed back and called her father what he was. A deadbeat dad. A man who blew into her and her mother’s life when he felt like it. And disappeared again when life got too hard or he met someone else who caught his fancy. Or when the system caught up with him for unpaid child support for her or the four half siblings she knew about.
“Anyway.” Ellen looked at her daughter, then at Nick. “She was tired, but she’s five. And while she doesn’t nap anymore, sometimes...” She shrugged.
“Sometimes she needs one.” Nick looked at Susie, making a silly face to head off the frustration Bryn could see in the girl’s face. “I need one sometimes, too.”
Susie’s eyes narrowed, but then she refocused on Honey.
And this was why therapy animals were such a blessing. Calming influences that made life easier in one of the most difficult places in the world.
“I’m really starting to think I overreacted. That maybe she didn’t faint...but I know she did. She was standing in the kitchen arguing over a snack.”
“I wanted raisins.”
“I like raisins.” Nick laughed. “Especially the yogurt ones.”
“I’ve never had those—Mommy!”
“We’ll see.”
“That means no,” Susie whispered to Honey.
Nick’s eyes found Bryn’s as she covered her mouth to hide the smile.
“I’m going to check you out, Susie.” He pulled the stethoscope from his pocket and showed it to her. “Do you know what this is?”
“It listens to my heart.”
“It does.” Nick nodded, his focus on the child. “Your lungs, too. I can even use it to listen to your stomach growl. Want to see?”
Bryn’s heart melted as she watched him put the earpieces in Susie’s ears, then drop the diaphragm to her belly.
“Wow.”
As a nurse, she’d worked with so many specialties. There were dedicated professionals in all of them, but pediatricians had some of the best bedside manner she’d ever witnessed. It was outside the hospital, though, that you needed to focus on. Her ex-husband could put on a good show when he wanted to, too.
Nick took over and started checking Susie, explaining what he was doing to both the child and her mother. Answering questions without getting upset or frustrated.
A perfect bedside manner.
Which was why Ethan dismissing his tiny patients should have been one of so many red flags. But she’d wanted to believe it had been just because he’d been focused on his career, on climbing the ranks so he could make changes to benefit all patients.
A catchphrase he used to make himself look better. Though now she believed what he wanted was prestige. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t his wife.
Not anymore.
“All right.” Nick put his stethoscope back into his pocket and looked at Ellen. “The good news is she seems healthy. And the monitors last night caught nothing. Our night staff nurses said she did well.”
“And the bad news?” Ellen’s foot started tapping.
This was a woman well-versed in bad news. Her foot was tapping, but her shoulders were straight. Her face carefully devoid of expression.
“I don’t know why she fainted. Sometimes episodes happen and we can’t determine a reason. It never happens again, and it’s a story that you tell her when she’s a teen driving you up the wall.”
“Other times?”
Nick looked at Susie, whose attention was focused on Honey. “Other times it takes another episode, or many episodes, for us to determine what’s going on. I recommend following up with her pediatrician. If she faints again, has shortness of breath, chest pain, a fever over a hundred and one, bring her back.” Nick shook his head, his shoulders dipping just a hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a better answer. It could be stress. Children experience that just like adults.”
“Yeah, well, there’s enough of that to go around.” Ellen caught a sob and shook her head. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
Bryn’s eyes were getting misty as Nick comforted Ellen. She wasn’t his patient, but the care in his voice, the extra time spent with her daughter, the acknowledgment that sometimes there wasn’t an answer...
It was more than many doctors were willing to do.
The definition of a perfect doctor.
Bryn wanted to shake that thought from her mind. Nick was a good doctor...to the two patients she’d seen. That meant nothing. It was his first day on the floor of Ward 34.
She knew that stress, hard cases, rough days—those were when you really saw someone’s character.
“If you have questions, let the discharge nurse know, and I’ll come back. It was very nice to meet you, Susie.”
“I love Honey.”
“Me, too.” Bryn smiled and nodded to Nick as he walked out the door. “Does your mom want to pet her before I go?”
Ellen let out a laugh that sounded a little too close to a sob as she sat beside Susie on the bed. She ran her hands over Honey’s head. Her shoulders relaxed, and the lines around her eyes disappeared as Honey worked her magic. “Thank you.”
“This is Honey’s dream job.” The dog wagged her tail and dutifully stood as Bryn snapped three times and picked up her leash. Honey loved this, and Bryn loved helping people. Maybe she wasn’t in nurse’s scrubs now, but the thrill she got seeing Honey work made up for it.
Almost.
