When Christian first approached me about being the spokesperson for Fletcher Hospital’s organ donation drive, I thought the worst part was going to be returning to my home town. When I left town, I vowed I was never coming back – and I had every intention of keeping that promise.

But I was excited about the idea of helping people understand how much donating their organs could mean to someone, and Christian made a great pitch. He had no problem getting me on board with the program; I’d happily donate my time. But Christian wasn’t an idiot. He waited until he had my agreement before telling me that the hospital board wanted the promo filmed at Fletchers.

I fought tooth and nail to change his mind. I pointed out that there wasn’t any reason that I couldn’t do my bit in Los Angeles and that a good editor could add some shots that would make it look like it had been filmed at the hospital, but Christian dug his heels in.

I might have backed out of the whole thing. Instead Jenna, my best friend since I signed with Margo way back when she was a struggling agent and the only thing I had going for me was a nice head shot, convinced me that returning home was a good idea.

When I finally relented to Christian’s request, I insisted that Margo and Jenna accompany me to Wisconsin. In addition to wanting Margo on hand to handle all the mundane details, I’d wanted the women for moral support. I figured I’d be less likely to get cold feet if they were here with me.

Now, I wish they’d both stayed in California.

Not only had they said something that had upset Lucy, which I'm far from happy about, but having them tagging along with me as we explore the hospital and get to know some of Christian’s patients makes it seem like I am dragging an entourage around with me everywhere I go.

“And this is Nathan.” Christian lightly punches the shoulder of a young boy who is sitting in a hospital bed. The boy grins up at him from under the bill of a Boston Red Sox ball cap. “He’s agreed to star alongside of you in the commercials.”

“Hey, Nathan.” I sit on the side of the bed.

“Hi.” He stares up at me with eyes that seem nearly as large as his entire pale face.

A lump fills my throat, making it impossible for me to speak, which is a good thing, because all words flee my mind.

I don’t need Christian to tell me that Nate is waiting for an organ. On some level, I’ve always known that kids like Nathan exist and have donated money to groups that help kids who are in life threatening positions, but until this very second, I’ve never been faced with actual reality of their plight.

Kids his age should be out running around, playing ball, getting into trouble, learning about life. They shouldn’t be in a hospital, waiting for someone to die so that they can live. I can’t even imagine the toll that kind of experience must take on a kid.

And here I thought my childhood was tough.

All my wit, my ego, drains away in the face of the seriousness of his situation. All of a sudden, my life seems so shallow, so meaningless.

Nathan stares up at me with his huge eyes, waiting for me to say something. As the silence stretches between us, shadows drift into his eyes. He looks around the room, unsure of what to do with me, looking for assistance, but there is none. Christian is engrossed in his charts, and Margo, who is supposed to help me out in situations like this, is engrossed in a phone call. Jenna, usually the light of a party, grew bored a while ago and went to the lobby to read a magazine.

Nathan draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, literally withdrawing into himself.

I open my mouth, desperate to say something, to reassure this scared, sick kid that everything will be okay, but the words don’t come.

A warm hand settles on my shoulder and squeezes. Lucy’s clean, good smell tickles my nostrils and some of my anxiety fades.

“Nathan, right?”

He nods. His uncertain gaze bounces from her face to mine.

“Ignore Ryan,” Lucy tells him in the same easy, relaxed tone I’ve noticed the nurses using. “He’s used to being the best looking guy in a room, but you put him to shame. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.”

A tentative grin spreads across Nathan’s face. “Oh,” he says.

Lucy reaches out and taps the bill of his ball cap. “I guess you’re a Red Sox fan?”

“Oh yeah! They’re the best team ever!” Nathan practically shouts this statement. Excitement blazes in his eyes.

“They’re pretty good.” I finally find my voice. Baseball I can talk about. Kids desperately seeking organs, that’s another story.

“Some people think the Yankees are better, but they’re full of…” Nathan’s eyes dart around the room and he gauges who’s listening in on the conversation. “They’re full of shit.” He finishes in a whisper. “Boston has a much better program.”

At some point, Lucy’s hand drifted from my shoulder to the middle of my back, and is now making slow, lazy circles. It’s an innocent touch, one meant to offer comfort, and something she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing, but it feels better than anything I’ve ever felt before. I lean into her, absorbing some of her quiet strength.

“I’m afraid I don’t know all that much about baseball,” Lucy tells Nathan, causing a shadow to drift across the boy’s face. “But I’m sure Ryan does.”

“I do,” I chime in. “I even played a baseball player, though not a very good one, in a movie a few years back. Outfields and Foul Balls.”

Nathan giggles. “That’s one of my favorite movies. I watch it all the time. It’s hysterical.”

Okay, so maybe acting isn’t so shallow after all. Not if my work in what is actually a pretty bad, farcical movie that’s little more than bad jokes about baseball, can entertain someone like Nathan.

Thanks to Lucy’s ice breaker, Nathan and I spend half an hour chatting about baseball, acting and everything in between. The time flies past. Now that we’re talking, Lucy doesn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. Like she said, baseball isn’t really her thing. Still, I’m glad she doesn’t leave. Her presence is like a balm I didn’t even realize I need.

Nathan stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. For the past few minutes his eyelids have been getting steadily droopier and he’s been sinking farther and farther into his pillows. He’s exhausted, though I suspect he’ll never admit to such a thing. A simple conversation with me has completely worn him out.

Impotent rage fills me. No child should have to go through this.

Using all my years of acting training, I push my emotions down deep inside of me and stand up. Desperate to keep Lucy close, I loop my arm around her waist, my palm wrapping around her right hip.

“I need to get going,” I tell Nathan, “but I’ll swing by tomorrow, so we can get your ideas on how this commercial we’re doing should go. Okay?” And before returning to the hospital, I’ll make sure I pick up a dozen or so packs of baseball cards for the boy.

“Sounds awesome,” Nathan responds, sleep already slurring his words. “See ya then.”

He’s snoring before I take more than two steps away from his bed.

“You were great,” Christian says. “Both of you. Complete naturals.”

“He’s a good kid,” Lucy says in her soft voice. “Bright and outgoing. Fun to talk to.”

“He is,” Christian agrees as we quietly exit the room. “And when he’s feeling well, he’s a bundle of energy. That’s why I picked him to be in the commercial with you. He’s so vivacious, I figure he’ll help get the message across. And maybe it will help drum up some interest in his case in particular and inspire some donations so that his parents get some help with his medical bills.”

“How bad is he?” Lucy says softly.

“Kidney failure,” Christian says somberly. “It’s the worst case I’ve ever seen in a child that age. Unless we luck out and find a donor, dialysis will be the only thing keeping him alive. He gets treated a few times a week. In addition to a kidney, he also needs a new pancreas.”

The information breaks my heart. “How long does he have?”

“I don’t know,” Christian admits. “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to make it this long. If he was weaker willed, he wouldn’t have. But Nathan’s a fighter. He’s determined to hang on as long as possible.”

I glance over my shoulder at the sleeping boy. Realistically, I know that I can’t help everyone, but … “Have the billing department let me know what his insurance won’t cover. I’ll write a check as soon as you get the figure to me. And see if you can find out if there’s any other expenses his parents are struggling with so I can cover those as well.”

Christian nods and claps a hand to my back. “Consider it done.” He glances at Lucy. “Tomorrow’s the big day, the day Suzie Collins takes herself off the singles market and officially enters into holy matrimony.”

“It is,” Lucy says.

“I ran into Suzie earlier,” I tell him. “She invited me to the thing—well, she started to and then she got sidetracked. You going?”

“Are you kidding? Free food, fancy dress, and a chance to schmooze the wealthiest people in the county? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus, I’ll get to dance with all the prettiest girls. Speaking of which,” Christian reaches out and fist bumps Lucy’s right shoulder. “You’re saving a dance for me, right?”

“I’m not going.” Lucy stares straight ahead and not a flicker of emotion crosses her face.

“Not going?” Christian repeats. His troubled gaze meets mine. “What do you mean? Doc Collins has been telling everyone about how great Suzie’s wedding is going to be, and how it’s all because of your hard work. He said you’ve gone above and beyond on this project.”

Bright pink spots appear in the centers of Lucy’s cheeks but she doesn’t look up. “I have things to do tomorrow.”

“But you –” Before Christian finishes the thought, the hospital PA system crackles.

“Dr. Christian Peacock, please report to room seven thirty-one. Thank you.”

Christian glances upward at the nearest speaker and rolls his shoulders. “Duty calls. Thanks, Ryan. As soon as we hammer out the last few details with Margo here, we should be able to start filming.” He nods at Margo and Jenna. “Ladies, lovely to meet you. Lucy, if you do decide to go tomorrow, you owe me a dance.”

As we make our way to the elevator bank, I study the woman who agreed to be my fake girlfriend. The fact that she’s not planning on attending the wedding, an event that has all the makings of being the social event of the year for this little community, bothers me. I suspect Suzie is the reason, that she either didn’t think to extend an invitation to the woman she’s harangued into helping out, or she has come to see Lucy as some sort of servant.

Both options have me seeing red.

One way or another, I decide, Lucy is going to that wedding.