Holly sat still buckled in her seat, clutching her balled, gloved hands to her heart. Just tell him you need to go home.
It was too late. He had sprung open her door and undid her seatbelt. Noel held out his hand. Holly had no choice but to take it. He pulled her to her feet. And as she walked along side him toward the rows of Scotch Pines lined up like soldiers for inspection, she teetered in her heels.
Noel grabbed her arm before she disgraced herself among the fellow tree pickers surrounding them.
“Whoa. Are you all right?”
Holly straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I’m fine.” The words came sharp but her mind was muddled.
He yanked her along like a reluctant child. “Come on. I need a tree. Help me choose one.”
Oh, thank God. The tree was for him. She’d quickly pick one and then she could go back home.
Noel let go of her hand and dodged through the maze of evergreens. Holly stopped in front of one of the trees. Its graceful, sweeping branches caught her attention. She peeled off one of her gloves and poked its beveled needles. The tree well watered, they bent easily to her touch. She poked it again, smiling this time. Holly leaned into it and sniffed. The tree smelled of her father’s flannel shirt, the one he wore every year to the Christmas tree farm, the pine still fresh upon his chest as she pressed her cheek to him as he hugged her in victory of the perfect tree. She touched the evergreen one more time before putting her glove back on. Sweating beneath her coat, Holly turned away from the tree and searched for Noel.
“Noel?” she called.
He popped out from around the tree.
Holly jolted backward. “There you are.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have you chosen one?”
She pointed to the third tree in the row opposite the one she had lingered at, one she had not even inspected. “That one.”
“That one it is!”
Noel took her hand and they walked to the check out booth, standing in line with the other customers. The line moved quickly. They approached the white bearded chubby man with a red and black plaid hunter’s cap snug around his ears.
“Good evening, folks,” he said. “We got plenty of trees to pick from. Truck just pulled in from old McNourney’s farm with a bunch of beauties this afternoon. Which Christmas tree is the one for you?”
Heat rose to Holly’s cheeks and a droplet of sweat trickled down her spine. She knew the farm well. Her toes curled in her shoes. She nudged Noel.
“I’m not feeling well. I overindulged at dinner. I’ll wait for you in the car.”
Noel took off his glove and stroked her cheek. “You do feel warm. I won’t be long. Here are the car keys. Go rest inside. Turn on the heater. I’ll get you home soon and tuck you into bed.”
“You okay there, Miss?” The man asked.
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
Holly took the keys from Noel and scurried past her evergreen tree, dodging into the safety of his car. She shifted in her seat and then spied out the window. The pudgy bearded man tottered beside Noel, his arms swinging along his plaid fleece jacket that matched his cap. He carried a red ribbon in his hands that were clad in tan leather, work gloves. They turned away from her. She leaned closer to the window and squinted. The man tagged the tree. Noel turned and shook his hand. He jogged toward the car with a huge grin on his face. He tapped on her window. She could hear him through the glass.
“Are you okay?”
Holly nodded.
Noel rounded the car and got in. “How come you didn’t turn on the heat?”
“It’s warm enough in the car. I guess I needed to sit a bit, to digest that huge meal.” She lied. “But I’m much better now.” Holly touched his hand. “Did you get your tree?”
“Yep! They even deliver. Now let me deliver you home and tuck you in for the evening.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for everything, Noel.”
He squeezed back. “You’re welcome. I had a great time.”
“Me too.”
Holly sank into her seat. The tension in her neck dissolved and she uncurled her toes in her pumps. She glanced at Noel. As they passed street light after street light, she traced the tiny black dots of stubble poking through his cheeks and chin with each illumination. The flutter in her stomach grew warm as it crept downward. Should she invite him to stay or would that be too forward? She grinned. The gossip at the hospital would churn into a frenzy, but it certainly would be amusing to listen to.
Noel pulled into her drive and helped her out of the car. They lingered under the porch light. He cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers. A dog barking across the street interrupted them. Holly and Noel glanced at Sam’s house. The light in the window snapped off.
“We’ve been spotted,” she said.
“I’m sure we’ll continue to entertain them, especially tomorrow when I pick you up at six sharp.” He kissed her again. “I’d stay but you need your rest. Wear something casual and warm.”
Oh, my God. He said he’d stay! She wanted to jump up and down like a kid, but instead, she quickly tilted her head. “For what?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Come on, Noel. Tell me.”
He skipped over her porch steps on the way to his car. Turning around he waved to her. “See you tomorrow, Dr. Green!”
Then he backed out of her driveway, riding off like a bandit in the middle of the night. She waited until he turned the corner before venturing inside. Holly slid off her coat and hung it on the rack. Kicking off her pumps, she twirled in circles, splaying her arms out like a child who’s discovered recess for the first time. She stumbled to the bedroom, deliciously dizzy from her whirling about and from her evening with Noel. Holly unzipped her dress and let it drop below her knees, stepping free from it. She hung it in the rear of the closet and promised the dress she’d take it out again. Wanting to keep the lacy lingerie on a bit longer, she slid into her bunny slippers and shuffled to the living room and searched for her shoes. She plucked one from the sofa and gazed about the room for its mate. Hmm? Where is it? Carrying the sole shoe, she passed the kitchen and halted. Walking backward, she glanced inside it. I’ll be darned. There it is. Kneeling on the floor, she giggled and retrieved the other pump from beneath the kitchen table. Ever fastidious, this was so not like her. The playful, carefree, Dr. Shepherd had entered her life, and that wasn’t so bad.
Chapter Eight
Wrapped in her down comforter and heated from her night of a blissful slumber, Holly wiggled her toes and stretched her legs. Fluttering her eyes open, she yawned, raised her hands over her head, and plopped them upon her pillow. She twisted about, rousing the rest of her body, and then rolled to her side.
“Oh, no,” she yelled, and bolted upright in bed.
Swooning from her night with Noel, she hadn’t set her alarm clock. The glowing blue digits on her nightstand mocked her, “Ha, Ha, Holly. You overslept!”
Whipping off her covers, she slammed her feet into her bunny slippers and dashed into the bathroom. After a lightening quick shower, she hopped into her standard black trousers and white button down shirt. Holly glanced in the mirror at her unadorned face. Ordinarily she wouldn’t care, but now there was Noel, and people would be looking. She had to make an effort. After rubbing in foundation, brushing on blush, then polishing it all off with powder, Holly applied a smidge of mascara. She was finally set. With it being an O.R. day, Holly sleeked her hair back into a ponytail and snapped a velvet black elastic band around it. There was no time to brew coffee, or stop at her favorite coffee shop. Holly stuffed a breakfast bar into her tote and yanked on her coat and boots. She reached for her keys on the key hook, but for the first time in her regimented life, they weren’t there. She dropped her tote to the ground and froze in front of her door. What’s happening to me? I danced around like a bad ballerina, flung off my shoes, overslept, and now I can’t find my keys. She slapped her hands to her sides and gazed up at the ceiling
. And I’m wearing makeup! Her heart fluttered. She was changing. It’s all right. You’ll be fine, she comforted herself. Holly patted her coat pocket. There they were. She pulled them out.
She smacked her forehead with her palm “Keys!” Holly glanced at her watch. “Darn it!” Okay, she’d be late but Noel was worth it. Mr. Moretti was probably just opening up his jewelry store. He had his store, Special Touch Jewelers, ever since Holly could remember. Her mom and dad were one of his best customers. Holly would quickly call him and order the key ring for Noel. She whipped out her cell and found the phone number. Mr. Moretti answered on the second ring. Holly let him know exactly what she wanted engraved on Noel’s present and luckily good old Mr. Moretti assured her he’d have it ready for pick up later that day. Holly tapped “end call” on her cell and grinned. Everything was all set. She’d invite Noel to Aunt Mae’s house for Christmas dinner, and then she’d give the man she was falling so fast in love with his gift.
Holly grabbed her keys and headed for the hospital, praying the rest of her day would proceed on schedule. Noel said he’d pick her up at six this evening. Holly smiled, wondering what his surprise was. Now she had her own surprise for him.
***
Holly skidded to a stop at the 6th floor surgical station where her team gathered on the unit awaiting her. Straightening the lapel of her white lab coat, she cleared her throat. “Let’s go. First patient, please.”
The surly unit secretary extended her arm over the counter. Her eyes still on her computer screen, she handed a plastic covered coffee cup to Holly. “Here you go, Dr. Green.”
The muted chatter of her team ceased. Their eyes widened.
Holly took the coffee from her. “Thank you, Ms. Carson.”
Without batting an eyelash in Holly’s direction or missing a key stroke, she said, “You’re welcome, Dr. Green.”
Holly sipped her coffee. “Well now, shall we proceed?”
Her surgical team snapped to attention. Clifford, her intern and the only brave one to engage her, gave her a glance and a nod. Holly, while holding her coffee in one hand, shooed him forward with her free hand. Clifford disappeared into the crowd of residents and medical students.
Rounds flowed smoothly, each presenting resident and student desperate to impress Holly with their lists of differential diagnoses, pharmaceutical prowess, and proposed therapies. She passed by Noel and his crew. He winked at her. Luckily her team was far enough ahead of her, and his team behind him, for any of them to notice. He knew that too. Sly devil!
He mouthed, “Six o’clock,” and moved on.
Holly finished her coffee and dropped the empty paper cup into a waste receptacle. She caught up with her team who paused outside of Mrs. Shale’s room. Holly strode past them and approached her pet patient.
Smiling she said, “Hail to the Queen of Incentive Spirometry. Your chest x-ray this morning is crystal clear and you’ve been afebrile for over twenty -four hours. Your white count is within normal limits, your incisions are well approximated, and you’re tolerating a regular diet.”
“English, dear,” Mrs. Shale said.
“You get to go home!”
To Holly’s surprise, Mrs. Shale laid there, her forehead furrowed and her lips pressed. “Oh,” she uttered.
Holly ushered her team from Mrs. Shale’s room, telling them she’d meet them in the next patient room. She sat on the edge of Mrs. Shale’s bed. “What’s wrong?”
Mrs. Shale fiddled with her hospital gown. “Nothing. I’ll gather my belongings. Perhaps one of those wonderful nurses can call me a cab. You and Dr. Shepherd, and all the nurses have been so kind to me.” She patted Holly’s hand. “I’ve received the best care here. I’m going to write a letter stating as much to the head of this hospital.”
“Thank-you. But you won’t need a cab. I have a huge, empty house. I’d like you to stay with me, at least for a few days.”
Mrs. Shale shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t want to be a bother, especially at Christmas.”
“You won’t. And it is especially at Christmas that I invite you to stay with me. I don’t have decorations or a tree. It will be very low key. You’ll have your own bedroom and bath, and the whole house at your disposal. Come and go as you please.” She squeezed Mrs. Shale’s hand. “Please? I know you don’t have any family. I checked.”
Mrs. Shale glanced downward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t straight with you.”
“It’s all right,” Holly said softly.
Mrs. Shale looked up at her. “Okay. I’ll come. But I don’t want to be in your way, and I do apologize ahead of time for being a holiday party pooper.”
Holly nodded. “You’ll fit right in. I have one scheduled operation, and then Noel…Dr. Shepherd, will cover my patients while I take you to my house and get you settled in.”
Giving Mrs. Shale an extra pat, Holly went straight to the computer and inputted her discharge orders. Before leaving for the O.R. she reminded Mrs. Shale’s nurse she’d return after her case to pick up her patient.
The nurse smiled. “That’s very nice of you, Dr. Green.”
“She’s alone. I have a big house. I’m looking forward to her stay. She’ll be fine.”
The nurse stared at her and then she finally blinked.
Holly stuffed her hands in her lab coat pockets. “I’ll be back for her.”
“Uh, okay,” the nurse said.
Everyone seemed to be staring at her. Of course she just kept rambling in front of the nurse. She’d never given as much as a hint to her private life. Here she was talking about her home. And Ms. Carson, the, “I don’t have time to get to know all of you,” stoic unit secretary, engaged her the other day and handed her coffee today. The woman who’d worked there as long as Holly could remember had never done that for anyone, not even Noel, the popular new surgeon on the block. Holly grinned. I guess the Lifesaver candies worked!
She pumped down the stairwell stairs. The combination of caffeine and her newly found congeniality among the staff pulsed in her veins. She reviewed her day in her head: one short surgery, one trip home with Mrs. Shale in tow, one return for Grand Rounds, check out rounds, and then home again to primp for Noel’s mystery date. Holly skipped the last three steps. She jumped to the floor and whipped past nurses, fellow surgeons, and anesthesiologists en route to the women’s locker room. Their heads spinned in her direction as they checked out the new “Dr. Holly Green.”
After changing into her scrubs, Holly swung her locker door shut and found the two nurses who had mocked her standing next to her.
“Hello, ladies,” Holly said with an extra lilt.
“Good morning, Dr. Green,” they recited like schoolgirls.
She pointed at one of them. “I believe you’re in the O.R. with me today.” She gave the young nurse a wide smile. “See you there.”
Holly watched with amusement as the nurses scampered from the locker room, whispering and nudging one another.
Some things never change.
Holly donned her floral surgical cap and her blue booties. Her shoulders pushed back, she strode to her own personal arena, her O.R.
The patient, a woman in her fifties who unlike her patient from the other day, had a biopsy positive for breast cancer. Her scar from the lumpectomy Holly had performed on her last month had healed but the woman’s spirits hadn’t. Holly held her patient’s hand as the anesthesiologist put the woman to sleep. The port placement would be simple. Chemotherapy during Christmas wouldn’t. Holly sent her residents and students to the emergency department for the rest of the day.
The case was going smoothly, but Holly couldn’t resist sending the circulating nurse, “Nurse Gossip,” out of the room to fetch suture she didn’t need. Holly’s eyes crinkled up. She smiled mischievously beneath her mask as the nurse fled from the O.R., obeying Holly’s trumped up requests.
Holly’s longtime scrub tech, winked at her. “You are so bad!”
Holly shrugged. “Who knows? I just might
need that suture.”
The scrub tech nodded. “Right.”
Even the anesthesiologist chuckled.
The befuddled nurse ran back into the O.R. with the suture package in her hand. About to pop it open onto the surgical field, Holly said, “Thanks so much, but it looks like I won’t need that suture after all. I’m already closing.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes. Holly swore she heard her hiss behind her mask. “I’ll put it back,” she said curtly. She stomped from Holly’s O.R., smacking the metal O.R. door on her way out.
“Gee. I wonder what’s wrong with her?” Holly asked with a gloat in her tone.
The anesthesiologist leaned back in his chair and stifled a laugh. “I don’t know.”
Holly waited for her patient to rouse in the recovery room before leaving, reassuring her that her surgery went well and that she could go home later that day to spend the holidays with her family, returning for out patient chemotherapy the day after Christmas. The concession at least made the woman smile. Now she was off to pick up Mrs. Shale.
***
Mrs. Shale stood looking out the window while clutching her black purse when Holly entered her room.
“Are you ready to go?” Holly asked.
Mrs. Shale turned to face her. "Yes, dear." She walked over to her bed and grabbed the white plastic drawstring bag with the Granite State Medical Center logo stamped on the front of it. Holly knew the bag contained the usual hospital soap, shampoo, comb, and a box of tissues. “I don't want to be a bother,” Mrs. Shale said, demurely.
Holly shook her head. “You're not, and you won't. Do you have your spirometer?”
Mrs. Shale smiled and tapped her bag. “Have it right here.”
Holly waved her arm towards the door. “After you.”
A male hospital volunteer, about Mrs. Shale's age, dressed in a navy vest sporting the same hospital logo and black trousers stood at the doorway with a wheelchair. Mrs. Shale glanced at Holly.
“Hospital policy,” Holly said.
The silver haired man with a neatly trimmed mustache held out his hand to Mrs. Shale. “Please, have a seat.” He winked at her. “Don't worry. I'm a safe driver. No accidents yet!”