5. Nicky

CHAPTER 5

Nicky

I navigated the familiar roads toward work, my phone balanced in the cradle on speaker mode. Aiden’s call had come through and I’d answered without hesitation, eager for a distraction from the gray December morning.

The streets of Juniper Hollow had been dusted with snow overnight, the kind that turned everything soft and magical. Wreaths hung from the lampposts, their ribbons fluttering in the faint breeze, and storefronts glowed with string lights. Even the air smelled like pine and woodsmoke.

“You better not be skipping meals,” I said, cutting straight to the point.

“Hello to you too,” Aiden replied, his tone dry but amused. “And for your information, I’m not.”

“Right. Let me guess. Ramen and whatever mystery meat they serve at the dining hall?”

There was a beat of silence, followed by the sound of computer keys clattering—probably his laptop. “My roommate cooks, actually. Real food. Better than your over-salted spaghetti, for sure.”

“Over-salted?” I scoffed, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. “That spaghetti got you through middle and high school.”

“Barely,” he shot back, but I could hear the grin in his voice.

“Watch it,” I warned, though a smile tugged at my lips.

“So, how’s college life?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.

“It’s good. Busy.”

“Busy with classes or something else?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.

“Both, I guess,” he said, his voice light but evasive.

I frowned, tapping my fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “Something else, huh? That doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

Aiden chuckled, but it was a little forced. “Relax, it’s nothing big. Just, you know, college stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes at the road ahead, not buying it for a second. “Uh-huh. College stuff. Like late-night study sessions or?—?”

“Exactly,” he cut in quickly, the words tumbling out a little too fast. “Late nights. Lots of coffee. Very boring.”

His tone screamed deflection, but I let it slide for now. “All right, if you say so. But if ‘college stuff’ lands you in trouble, don’t forget my number still works.”

“Noted,” he said, a grin creeping back into his voice.

“Good.”

The sound of muffled laughter drifted through the line—his roommate, maybe. Whatever the “something else” was, it could wait. Aiden would tell me when he was ready. At least, I hoped he would.

I let the banter stretch out a little longer, the teasing easing some of the tension in my chest. But then the question I’d been avoiding slipped out, unfiltered.

“You’re seriously not coming home for Christmas?”

“I told you, Nicholas,” Aiden said, dragging out my name in the way that meant he was gearing up to dig his heels in. “I’ve got a ton of work for finals, and flying back doesn’t make sense. Besides, we’ll see each other soon.”

“Spring isn’t soon, Aiden.”

“It’s just a few months.” His tone turned defensive. “You’re the one who told me to focus on school.”

“I didn’t mean focus so much you forget you have a brother.”

“Oh, come on. You’re acting like I’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. I call you all the time.”

“Twice a week is not ‘all the time.’” I turned the corner a little too sharply, gripping the wheel.

“Is that what this is about? You miss me?” His teasing lilt was almost enough to make me hang up.

“I don’t miss you. I miss having someone around to clean up after. The house is spotless, and it’s annoying.”

“Admit it—you’re bored without me.”

“Admit it—you can’t survive without my nagging,” I shot back.

There was a pause, then a soft laugh that didn’t match his usual bravado. “I’m surviving just fine, thanks. College isn’t the apocalypse.”

“How are finals looking?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

“Stressful, but manageable. My portfolio’s almost done, and I’ve got my design concepts nailed down.”

“Good. You’ve been putting in the work. Don’t slack off now.”

“Yes, Dad.”

The words were light, but they hit me somewhere deeper than I expected. He didn’t mean it the way I sometimes felt it, but it still reminded me that for six years, I’d been more than just his brother. I adjusted the volume on the radio to mask the silence stretching between us.

“Just don’t forget why you’re there,” I said after a moment.

“I won’t,” Aiden said, quieter this time. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nicholas. I’m fine.”

I let out a slow exhale, my fingers curling around the steering wheel. “I’m always going to worry about you. Deal with it.”

He chuckled, a sound that was familiar. “I love you, grumpy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, feeling the weight of the words like they were a little too fragile to handle.

“Say it, big brother. You know I need to hear you say it.”

I let out a dramatic sigh, my thumb brushing the edge of the phone as I drummed my fingers on the wheel again. “Alright, alright.” I dragged the words out. “Love you.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Brat,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.

A soft laugh came through the line before Aiden spoke again, quieter now, almost hesitant. “Hey, Nicholas?”

“Yeah?”

“I… never mind. Talk later, okay?”

The call ended before I could ask what he meant to say, the faint click leaving me staring at the screen like it held answers.

I parked the car and sat there for a moment, gripping the wheel. Snowflakes began to drift lazily against the windshield, and for a fleeting second, I thought about turning around, heading home, and calling him back.

But the knot in my chest told me something was shifting, and I didn’t know if I was ready for it.

With a sigh, I stepped out into the cold, the crunch of snow underfoot reminding me of everything I had to face inside those walls. Whatever was going on with Aiden would have to wait. Right now, I had work to do—and a certain too-handsome-for-his-own-good doctor to survive.

The shift was dragging, and I was deep in the grind of my routine. Banter with the residents kept things from feeling too monotonous, but even I couldn’t ignore the way they had been whispering among themselves more than usual. They were watching me—Mrs. Thompson especially. She was perched in her usual spot by the big window overlooking the garden, her knitting needles clicking softly as her sharp eyes tracked my every move. Mrs. Thompson wasn’t one to let much slip past her. At eighty-something, she had a wit sharper than her knitting needles and a fondness for keeping everyone in line—especially me.

Maybe I’d been a little off lately—grumpier than normal—but could you blame me? With Aiden off at college and the world around me feeling smaller than ever, it was hard to shake the restlessness that tugged at me. Sometimes I caught myself lingering in the dayroom too long, listening to the faint crackle of the radio playing Christmas music or watching the snow dust the courtyard. I’d picture something ridiculous, like building a snowman or lying in the snow just to see what it felt like—childish stuff I hadn’t thought about in years.

But then I’d snap back to reality, remind myself that there were charts to update, vitals to check, and staff to wrangle. Still, a part of me—one I didn’t quite understand—wondered what it would be like to let go for just a minute. To stop being so... in control all the time.

“Nicholas, darling, can I ask you something?” Mrs. Thompson called out, her glasses perched on the end of her nose like a pair of high-powered binoculars. “Have you had a chance to talk to the new doctor? Dr. Webber?” she asked, dropping her voice conspiratorially.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around,” I said, doing my best to sound casual. “Looks like he’s settling in fine.”

Mrs. Thompson didn’t seem satisfied with that. She tilted her head, lips pursed. “Just fine, eh? I hear he’s not exactly used to small towns like ours. You should take him around, show him how lovely our town is.”

I blinked. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s the Christmas season, for heaven’s sake,” she said, waving me off. “What better time to introduce a newcomer to our holiday spirit?”

“Right.” I couldn’t help the amused edge creeping into my voice. “Because nothing says ‘welcome’ like dragging a guy around to look at string lights and window displays.”

Beverly, who’d been listening in from across the room, smiled as she joined in. “I think it’s a great idea. Dr. Webber is from San Francisco, right? He probably hasn’t seen Christmas in a place like this. You should show him the Christmas market.”

I groaned inwardly. “I’m not his tour guide, Beverly.”

“Oh, come on. Wouldn’t you love to see the look on his face when he walks through our little downtown,” she teased. “Plus, I’m sure you could use a little fun, Nicky. Don’t be such a Grinch.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m not being a Grinch.”

“Of course not,” she teased. “But we’re all counting on you to show him how lovely Christmas is here. You’ll make a great ambassador for Juniper Hollow.”

Terri, the senior LPN, chimed in with a grin that betrayed her. “Don’t forget to be on your best behavior, Nicholas. You don’t want to scare him off.”

I looked over at her, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I don’t scare people.”

Beverly leaned forward, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. “He’s already seen enough of your grumpy face. Maybe a little holiday cheer wouldn’t kill you, Nicky.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get another word out, the door swung open, and Markus stepped into the room.