Noel glanced at Holly and gave her a grin and a nod before he left the room.
Mrs. Shale nudged Holly. “He's a handsome man. I see no ring on either of your fingers.”
Holly knew where this was heading. “We remove all jewelry before performing surgery.”
Mrs. Shale smiled. “He reminds me of my Martin, of course when we were younger. You two have a great time at that party...and afterwards, who knows? Dear, will you hand me my purse before they check it away?”
“Sure.” Holly handed Mrs. Shale her black patent leather purse.
Mrs. Shale rooted through her bag. She took out a wad of tissues. “I want you to have this.”
Holly arched her eyebrows. “A wad of tissues?”
“It's not the tissues, but what's inside.”
Holly peeled away the ball of fluff. Her mouth dropped open. “I can't take this.”
“Sure you can. I want you to have it. It suits you.”
She palmed the gold metallic ornament dotted with boughs of holly. Holly squeezed Mrs. Shale’s hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just do a good job on my gallbladder.” She winked.
Holly winked back. “Will do.”
Cradling the ornament all the way to the women’s locker room, Holly set it on the top shelf of her locker, admiring it once more before easing the door closed. She’d add it to her private collection tonight. Holly paused before the mirror, fixed her scrub cap, and wiped away the tiny dots of mascara peeking past her lower lashes before joining Clifford and Noel in the O.R. She patted Mrs. Shale’s hand until the woman’s eyes flickered shut from the anesthesia.
Noel nudged between Holly and Clifford, scrubbing next to her.
“She’s a nice lady,” he said.
“Yes, she is.” Holly thought of the ornament safely stashed in her locker and smiled.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile today. I can tell by your eyes,” Noel said.
She pressed her lips tight beneath her surgical mask. “Let’s get going.”
He leaned over the sink and stared into her eyes. “There it is again,” he teased.
Darn him! Why is he doing this? Unable to keep from grinning, she rolled her eyes. Holly flicked water from her fingertips. “Mrs. Shale’s gallbladder awaits us.”
They crowded around the O.R. table. The diseased organ put up a good fight, but Holly won, extracting it free, ridding Mrs. Shale’s pain. She let Clifford suture the small incisions, supervising his handiwork. They all shook hands after the case. Noel lingered at their grasp, holding Holly’s hand an extra few seconds. The warmth of his hand penetrated past the latex of his gloves and shot straight to her hand. For the first time, Dr. Holly Green was speechless.
“See you at the party,” he said.
“Uh, I have to dictate the surgery and do my post-op orders. And I want to wait until Mrs. Shale wakes up. She has no family here,” Holly stammered. Then she gritted her teeth. Why did she lose control when around him?”
“I’ll wait,” Noel said, mischief in his eyes.
Obviously he’s not picking up on my hint that I’d rather not attend. “Please, go ahead. I don’t want to keep you.”
“It’s no problem. You dictate. I’ll do the post-op orders,” he countered.
Holly shifted her weight. “No really, go on.”
“I’ll stay.”
Clifford kept silent.
The anesthesiologist pulled out Mrs. Shale’s breathing tube. She coughed and sputtered. “She’s waking up.” He pointed to Holly. “You dictate. He does the orders. And that’s final.”
“See, Sid says that’s final.”
“Since when does Sid get a vote in this?”
“Since he and I are becoming fast friends. Right, Sid?”
“Right. Can we go now?”
They eased Mrs. Shale from the O.R. table onto a bed and wheeled her to the recovery room. Holly dictated the surgery while Noel sat with Clifford, entering the post-op orders into the computer.
“Dr. Green?” Mrs. Shale muttered.
Holly walked over to her. “I’m right here. Your surgery went well.”
“Thank you.”
Holly arranged Mrs. Shale’s bed covers, pulling the warm blanket past her patient’s shoulders.
“I’ll let the nurses take care of you, but I’ll check on you later.”
“Have fun at the party with that nice young doctor. Not the intern one. He’s just a baby. But you know whom. Then tell me all about it later.” She waved her hand at Holly. “Now scoot.”
“Your orders are done,” Noel announced. “I’ll walk you to the party.”
Panic rose in her throat. “I need to stop at the locker room.”
“Me, too. I’ll swing into the men’s locker room, change my clothes, and I’ll meet you outside.”
Dang, he was persistent, she thought. With him guarding the door, the chance she’d slip out unnoticed dwindled. She had no choice but to make an appearance at the hospital’s holiday celebration.
Holly took off her scrubs and changed back into her black and white outfit. She reached into the locker’s top shelf and inched the tissue wrapped ornament past her fingertips. She rolled it into her palm before gingerly depositing it into her tote. Holly glanced about the room. She was alone. She grabbed her cell phone from her bag and called her Aunt Mae, the woman who had raised her.
“Hi Aunt Mae. How are you?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Please tell me you’re coming for Christmas Dinner.”
“I’ll be there.” Holly drew a deep breath. “I need to ask a favor of you.”
“Anything, dear.”
“Page me on my beeper in about 20 minutes.”
She pressed the phone to her ear. Silence.
“Anything but that. Holly, go to the hospital party. It’s okay to have a good time. Call me when you get home.”
Holly sighed. “Okay.”
“Good girl. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She slid the phone into the bag and slipped the tote into her locker, positioning it for a quick escape. After a few bites of appetizer and a sip of punch, she’d sneak back, grab her belongings, and race home before anyone noticed. Holly paused. There was only one way out, and Noel was on the other side of that door. She pushed the locker room door open, wincing as it groaned on its hinges.
“Ah, there you are,” Noel said. “Ready to go?”
Yes, she was ready to go. Ready to go home. She pressed her lips into a smile. “Sure.”
Noel wore a white shirt and black trousers. They would have matched had he not sported a red tie dotted with tiny penguins and had that Santa sticker on his beeper. Not a speck of seasonal sparkle adorned her outfit.
They walked side-by-side to the hospital cafeteria, their collegial distance narrowing.
Holly glanced down at his beeper. “Nice pager.”
He grinned. “A little girl I operated on yesterday gave me that Santa sticker.”
Heat radiated from her cheeks. “That was nice of you. I bet that meant a lot to her.”
Hmmm. Double nice guy!
“Yeah. She got a kick out of it on rounds.” He fiddled with the pager clipped to the waistband of his trousers. “I like it.”
She smiled. “It suits you.”
Holly kept secret about the ornament her patient had given her. It would have sparked uneasy conversations about tree trimming. She had the perfect spot for it at home.
Muted music pulsed past the double cafeteria doors. Noel pushed them open, waving Holly inside. A crisp rendition of Dashing Through the Snow surrounded her. She passed beneath swags of evergreen draped along the wooden doorframe and entered the holiday bash she had avoided every year.
Noel rested his hand on Holly’s shoulder. Her breath hitched at his gentle squeeze as he guided her toward the buffet. Maybe she’d stay for a little while.
“Let’s get something to eat while there’s food left,” h
e said.
He handed her a plate and then took one for him. For every mini quiche Holly put on her plate, Noel added two more.
“That’s plenty,” she said.
“That’s not even a meal.”
He piled her plate with shrimp and cheeses despite her protests.
“I will blame you for an evening of indigestion.”
“It’s once a year.” He looked down at her with his pleading brown eyes. “I’ll share my antacids with you.”
“And I need you to share this plate with me. I can’t eat all this.”
“Done.” He tilted his head toward the tables. “Come on. I see two empty chairs.”
Holly followed him, balancing her overflowing plate. They passed a group of doctors and nurses who hushed their conversations and glanced sideways at her. They apparently were as stunned as she was to see her, she having succeeded in dodging the festivities every year, except for today.
“Merry Christmas, Holly,” they said, more in a question than a hearty salutation.
She nodded curtly. “Yes, uh, Merry Christmas to you too.”
Holly scooted closer to Noel, hiding behind him, her plate almost colliding with the back of his shirt. She halted before smacking into him. Her heart pounded. She cast her eyes toward the door, her discomfort palpable. Perhaps this was a bad idea, she thought, sure everyone was staring at her back, gossiping about her impromptu appearance. She peered around him to see who was sitting at the table. Clifford and Candice popped up from their seats.
Clifford cleared his throat. “I finished my work, and uh, I reviewed how to properly present patients with Candice.”
“Yes, he did,” Candice interjected. “And if you will please give me another chance, Dr. Green, I’m sure I won’t disappoint you.”
Holly waved her hand up and down. “Please sit, both of you, and enjoy the party. Candice, I was tough on you in order to make you better. I’m confident you’ll ace your surgical rotation.”
“Thank you, Dr. Green,” Candice gushed.
“That’s all right. Let’s sit and eat.”
“Good idea,” Noel said.
He pulled out Holly’s chair. She sat. But before she could inch forward, he guided her to the table. Triple nice guy!
Holly and Noel sat across from Clifford and Candice, a glittery reindeer centerpiece between them. Every time Noel turned his head away, Holly slid food from her plate onto his. Clifford and Candice snickered.
Noel turned to face them. “What’s so funny?”
Holly grinned. “Nothing.”
Clifford and Candice shrugged.
Noel looked down at the mountain of food on his plate. “Hey!”
She laughed and held her hands over her plate, guarding any “give backs.”
“Yeah, well, more for me,” he teased.
Sipping her punch, Holly winked at him. It was so spontaneous. Where did that come from?
Noel leaned toward her. Holly’s heart skipped a beat.
He touched her hand. “I’m glad you came.”
Holly set her drink down. “Me, too.”
The party wasn’t that bad, she thought. Aunt Mae was right.
Everyone began to clap. Holly whipped around in her chair to see what all the hub-up was about. A group of ICU nurses dressed as reindeer galloped into the cafeteria, performing a kick line number to Jingle Bell Rock. Holly clapped along with everyone else, tapping her toes beneath the table. The cafeteria pulsed with revelry. They weren’t the Rockettes, but they were entertaining nonetheless. Noel whooped and hollered, whistling at them. Holly laughed so hard her cheeks hurt. And just as she let go, she saw him standing in the corner, clapping as well, Dr. Maxwell Thornton, the elder surgeon who struggled to save her parents that night. She stopped clapping and searched in frenzy for a back way out. The dancing nurses distracted everyone, including Noel. Now was the best time for her to slip out through the kitchen.
She eased her chair back from the table, and tiptoed away, weaving through the crowd. Pushing the kitchen’s silver stainless steel doors open, she stood dazed, hoping no one had followed her.
“Can I help you?” a woman in a white cafeteria dress asked.
“Uh, no.” Holly glanced about the kitchen and spotted a tray of green Jell-O squares. She picked up a plate of the hospital gelatin. “Just what I was looking for.”
The woman furrowed her black bushy eyebrows. “With all that food out there, you want Jell-O?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
She snuck out the rear kitchen door and into the empty hospital corridor, jiggling lime gelatin on a poinsettia trimmed paper plate in her hand. She knew exactly what to do with it. Holly headed to Mrs. Shale’s room.
She inched her patient’s door open.
“Who’s there?” Mrs. Shale asked.
Holly pattered into the dim room. “It’s me, Dr. Green.” She walked over to the window blinds and snapped them open. The waning late winter afternoon sun filtered into the room. “I brought you something.” She set the lime Jell-O on Mrs. Shale’s bedside table. “Why are you lying here in the dark?”
“I was trying to get some sleep. Every time I doze off, a nurse comes in to take my temperature and blood pressure. I guess not everyone went to the hospital shindig. Speaking of the party, how was it? Did you have fun?”
Holly paused. “Mmm, yes.”
Mrs. Shale eyed the lime gelatin on the holiday themed paper plate. “Please tell me they didn’t serve green Jell-O at the party.”
Holly smiled. “No. I had the chef whip this up special for you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll bring you something more substantial tomorrow.”
Mrs. Shale patted Holly’s hand. “I can’t wait. Surprise me.”
“Absolutely. How do you feel about Orange Jell-O?” Holly teased her.
Mrs. Shale chuckled. “I’ve always been partial to citrus.”
“See you in the morning.”
“Have a good night, dear.”
She shut Mrs. Shale’s door and made it to the women’s locker room undisturbed. Tucking her tote bag under her arm, Holly bypassed the elevators and trotted down the stairwell. Sneaking out the hospital lobby, she walked to the parking lot. The brisk winter wind nipped at her neck. She raised the collar of her coat and clicked the remote on her key ring unlocking her car. The headlights flashed. Setting the tote gently onto the passenger seat, careful not to break the ornament in her bag, she ducked into her car and closed the door. Holly sat a minute before starting the engine. She took a chance, attending the party. She knew it was too good to be true. Taking a deep breath, Holly pulled out of the parking lot. In fifteen minutes tops, she’d be home.
***
Holly scrambled from her car to the front door. Shivering, she stomped the snow from her shoes and fumbled with her key ring until reaching the one for the house. Once inside, she shut the door, pushing it against the wind.
Lucky for me, she thought, leaving that party just before this snowstorm.
She slipped off her ballet flats in the foyer and wiggled her frigid toes in her drenched stockings. The weatherman lied. No snow in the forecast, he predicted. Ha! Holly ran to the bathroom on the balls of her feet. She peeled off her stockings, sat on the edge of the tub, and cranked on the water, warming her feet beneath it. She closed her eyes.
“Ah, much better.”
Reaching for a fluffy white towel, she patted her feet dry. Mom had always decorated the whole house during Christmas, including the red and green Santa towels she’d hang in the bathroom. But practical white was fine for her. She knew where the Christmas towels were. Holly set them purposely far back on the top shelf of the linen closet, a place she couldn’t easily reach.
After pattering into her bedroom, she removed her blouse and skirt, and hung them in her closet flush with her other attire. Not on call, and in for the evening, Holly put on a white long sleeved cotton shirt and the blue lounge pants with a snowflak
e print that her Aunt Mae had bought her, and slid on her favorite white, furry bunny slippers. She paused at her dresser and stared at the gold-framed photo of her at thirteen, flanked by her mom and dad, at a Christmas tree farm. They went there every year. It was the last photo of them together, their last Christmas. She wiped the tears overflowing from her lower lids, swiping them across her cheek and fingered the ornament hanging from the corner of the frame. It was the last one her parents had bought, a silver glass ball with a green glittery Christmas tree. She pulled out Mrs. Shale’s ornament from her bag and hung it onto the opposite corner of the frame. Taking three steps backward, she admired the only Christmas decoration in her house.
The house was closed up after her parents died, but Aunt Mae never sold it. Holly was sure her aunt knew that someday she’d return. The house where she had spent her childhood comforted her, although the holidays continued to haunt her. She left it every year to have Christmas dinner with Aunt Mae.
Holly shut the bedroom door and headed into the kitchen where she fixed herself a cup of hot cocoa. Settling onto the couch with her mug of hot chocolate she picked up the TV remote and clicked it. Channeling surfing through Christmas classics, she tuned into a world news station. One sad news story after another, she was about to shut off the TV when the doorbell rang.
She sighed and set her mug onto the coffee table. “Who could that be?” she muttered.
Holly tiptoed to the front door. If it weren’t someone she cared to speak to, she’d pretend she wasn’t home. She squinted and with one eye, peeked through the peephole. Holly shook her head. On the other side of the lens was Noel Shepherd, his face in a comical, distorted oval with his nose three times bigger than his forehead and chin, holding a plate of cookies.
Chapter Three
“Holly, I know you’re there. I see your car in the driveway. Please let me in. It’s freezing out here.”
“Just a minute.” Her stomach flipped. What is he doing here? How am I going to explain my get away? She shifted from side to side in her bunny slippers.
Although she had planned to spend a quiet evening alone, she couldn’t leave him standing there. Holly twisted the deadbolt, unlocked the door, and let Noel into her private sanctum.
Noel stomped the snow from his shoes and stepped into the foyer. Holly shoved the door shut and locked it again. The man that had left her speechless, the man that had prodded her to the hospital Christmas party, was now the man who was in her house alone with her.