Ian had rented a furnished house in the neighborhood surrounding the Misty Bay Regional Hospital, close enough so he could walk to work—if he wore cleats and a balaclava to fend off the March wind. It was also walking distance to the heart of the little downtown. That way Bo wouldn’t have to borrow the Mercedes every time he wanted to go somewhere.
But apparently Bo had no intention of burning fossil fuels in that manner. “I brought my skateboard,” he informed Ian. “It’s more ecological.”
“Fine. Just wear a helmet.”
At Bo’s appalled expression, he glared at the boy. “Do you want me to go into gory detail about what could happen to your brain if you crash? I have a thick file of the brain injuries in teenagers I’ve treated.”
“You’re so morbid. I haven’t crashed my skateboard since I was
