2. Prescription For Love

“Yes.” The reality of that had sunk in by midday when she’d had to meet with the ER staff to review schedules, evaluate treatment protocols, confirm state-required documentation procedures, and a dozen other things she hadn’t had to worry about a week before—in between seeing patients and supervising the PAs who made up the rest of the non-nursing staff. Most of the staff had been friendly and helpful. A few, as she’d expected, had been reserved, as if waiting to see what changes she intended to make. She hadn’t seen Flannery after their morning conference with the neurosurgeon regarding Nicole Fisher’s status. As busy as she’d been, she’d still had time to second-guess her initial meeting with the surgical chief. Flann was the single most important medical contact for her in the hospital, with Harper being a close second. Between them, they’d be consulted on almost every critical patient in the ER. Once she had the residency program in place and pushed Presley to apply for a primary care residency as well, she’d have a buffer zone where she’d be able to direct patient care much more actively. If the ER was to stand alone within the SunView system, she needed to sever the dependency on Rivers physicians. Flann would fight it.

Tomorrow would be time enough to worry about her battle with the Rivers MDs. Tonight was family time.

Blake regarded her suspiciously. “You called them, right?”

“Hmm? Sorry—called who?”

“The Internet people.” Blake looked pained.

Abby crossed her heart. “I swear I did. They said they’d be here tomorrow. You can live until then without Facebook.”

He made an exasperated sound and pushed his phone into the pocket of his khaki shorts. “Like I have a choice. About anything.”

“What did you do today?” Abby wasn’t going to try to convince him everything would be easy. It might not be. But they weren’t turning back.

He hunched his shoulders. “Not much. Walked around.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

“Define eating.”

“Come on.”

“Seriously.”

“Cereal.”

“For breakfast?”

“And lunch,” he said reluctantly.

“Why didn’t you go shopping and get something for sandwiches or something like that?”

He shifted on the stairs and gave her his what-planet-are-you-from look. “Mom. Have you looked around this place? There’s no supermarket. Where am I supposed to get sandwich stuff?”

“Well, there must be somewhere to get food in town. Maybe one of the restaurants has a deli section or something.”

“I didn’t feel like going into every one, okay?”

He’d at least ventured out and explored. She’d count that as a win for the day. “What do you say we go find a pizza place. I’m starving.” “You think they have one?”

“I don’t think any town could survive without a pizza place. Of course, if you don’t want pizza—” Blake jumped up. “Hell, yeah.”

Smiling, she rose. “Give me five minutes to change into something more comfortable.” “Okay. I’ll wait out front.”

She wanted to give him a hug, but she knew it wouldn’t be welcome. She squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay. Food first, then we’ll explore.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, but his expression had lightened.

Abby would do anything to keep him safe and help him be happy. She just hoped she’d know what needed doing when the time came. Step-by-step, they’d chart the waters together. After changing into jeans, a mint-green T-shirt, and flip-flops, she joined Blake where he sat on a board swing hanging by thick ropes from a big oak on the front lawn. Impulsively, she gave him a push and he swung forward.

“Jeez, Mom,” he yelled, jumping down and landing in a small puff of dust. His big grin belied his outrage.

Abby’s heart caught as it often did when she looked at the almost-adult and remembered the child. His hair had been lighter then, sun-kissed and curling around an oval face so unblemished and innocent, she’d believed somewhere angels truly flew. From the time he could talk he’d insisted on he, not she, choosing to be called by his middle name, not his more feminine first; and then for a time, a long frightening time, he’d gone quiet, and the beautiful child had grown joyless and solitary. Until he’d come to her at last, insistent and sure despite the plea in his eyes. And here he was, so different now, and yet at the heart, always the same. Hers to nurture and protect.

“Fine—you push, then.” Abby plunked down on the seat and wrapped her arms around the ropes, the scratch of the frayed fibers and the sultry heat rising from the ground drawing her back to a childhood she rarely paused long enough to remember. Blake gave her a push and she extended her legs, leaning back and letting her hair fly out behind her. The freedom was exhilarating and she reveled for a few more swoops before slowing herself with a foot and jumping off.

“Okay.” She threaded her arm through Blake’s. “Lead on, my man.”