An Evergreen Christmas (8 page)

“Uh, more like something. Noel, about dinner this evening.”

He lowered his hand to the small of her back. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He darted off before she could utter her planned excuse.

“Darn him,” she muttered. She wasn’t going to share him with anyone. Holly felt her face sag. She exhaled. Noel hadn’t promised her any exclusivity. Perhaps she had unfortunately expected that was where they were heading.

Holly blinked her eyes several times during check out rounds that afternoon, struggling to pay attention to her team as they stared at her in silence each time she paused. She’d clear her throat and stride past them just so they’d recognize her, the same old demanding Dr. Green. Softening was one thing, but morphing into a mush of an attending, thanks to Noel, was something else. Holly thanked her team and dismissed them.

Holly hadn’t seen Noel on the surgical unit since they parted outside Mrs. Shale’s room. Sinking into the station’s computer chair, she logged on, and while waiting for her inbox to load, she leaned back, crossed her legs, and placed her hands behind her neck. She spun in her chair in arcs, facing the unit secretary during one of her wider swings.

The secretary froze her fingers on her keyboard and squinted at Holly. “Are you okay, Dr. Green?”

Holly jerked up in her seat. “Yes, I’m fine.” She pointed to the screen. “This computer’s on break.”

“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Tell me about. “It’s been down three times today.”

Her inbox flashed on the monitor. Holly dragged the mouse to the down arrow and scrolled the items poised for her review. She pulled away from the screen. “Yikes! I’ll be lucky to leave here by midnight.”

“If I can input these lab and radiology requisitions by 5, so can you.”

Holly stretched her fingers. Clicking away on the myriad of messages therapeutic, she finished her list in less than an hour. She threw her hands in the air. “Voila! Done.”

“Ha. So am I,” the secretary said. “High five, Dr. Green.”

They smacked hands. In all her years at Granite State Medical Center, no one had interacted with her in such a jovial fashion.

The secretary nodded. “You’re all right, Doc.”

Holly bounced from her chair. “That was fun.” She reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out an unopened roll of mints. Peeling off the foil top, she held out the candies. “Lifesaver?”

The secretary picked off the first one. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Holly popped one in her mouth and waved to the secretary.

A bounce in her step, she left the unit, changing her mind about backing out of her date with Noel. Now she couldn’t wait to see him. Maybe Ashley handed Noel some important lab results. Extra energy to burn, she pumped her legs down three flights of steps and hummed all the way to the women’s locker room. Holly flung off her scrubs and donned her black slacks and white silk blouse. She shrugged. At least her outfits always matched. Grabbing Noel’s scarf, she folded it into neat fourths and tucked it in her tote. She swung her locker closed and glanced at her watch. It was 5 p.m., plenty of time to get ready for tonight.

***

Holly pulled her car into the drive, the wheels crackling over the snow. The neighbor boys waved to her.

“We’ll get this cleared out for you in an hour tops, Dr. Green,” they shouted, holding up their shovels like soldiers about to enter battle.

“Come in for hot chocolate when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Dr. Green.”

She fished her house keys from her coat pocket and unlocked the front door. Holly hung up her coat and stomped the snow free from her boots. Easing them off her feet, she padded across the polished oak floors, cooled since her morning departure, and slid into her toasty slippers, sighing as her toes welcomed the warmth. She wiggled them in her furry white bunny slippers, last year’s Christmas gift from Aunt Mae. After long hours standing in the O.R., she looked forward to slipping them on every night.

She tugged the living room window curtains aside and peered through the sheers. The boys scraped the snow with fury, clumps of white flying from their shovels forming parallel mounds on each side of the drive. Holly smiled at their effort. Her quaint Victorian house had been transformed into ski chalet. The boys waved to her. Holly gave them the thumbs up sign. She could afford to have her drive cleared professionally, but she championed the boys, having made extra cash shoveling snow in her youth. She tipped her wrist and glanced at her watch. The boys had predicted right, having completed the job in less than an hour.

Holly let the curtains fall back into place and hurried into the kitchen, her slippers’ bunny ears flopping to and fro with each step. While heating a pot of milk on the stove, she retrieved three mugs from the cupboard, leaving her dad’s favorite one behind. As she closed the cupboard, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in, guys,” she yelled.

The front door squeaked open. Despite the stovetop aglow, a quick chill filled the room.

“Leave your wet boots by the door and come into the kitchen.”

She set the mugs onto the kitchen table and filled them with hot cocoa. The boys rounded the table and sat, rubbing their hands over the steaming chocolate. Holly plunked miniature marshmallows into each mug.

“Thank you, Dr. Green,” they said in unison.

While they sipped their cocoa, Holly went into her bedroom, picked up three envelopes, and returned with them to the kitchen, handing each boy one.

“Go ahead, open them,” she said.

The boys tore into their envelopes.

“Wow,” one exclaimed, holding up his iTunes gift card. “Cool! Thanks, Dr. Green.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, guys. Merry Christmas.”

“Hey, where’s your tree, Dr. G.?” Sam, the boy who lived across the street asked.

Holly shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

“Oh, okay.”

The boys finished their hot chocolate and washed out their mugs.

“Thanks, guys.”

“No problem,” Sam said. “The next snowstorm is on us.” The others nodded in agreement.

Holly waved to them as they left, the boys still chattering about their planned music downloads. She crossed her arms and smiled. The iTunes cards along with cash went over big just as Holly hoped. They deserved it, and the small gifts satisfied her urge to make someone happy at the holidays without all the hoopla. And they even tidied up after themselves, which freed her for the next hour to get ready for her dinner date with Noel.

She shuffled in her bunny slippers to the bathroom and slipped them off, leaving them positioned perfectly parallel to the bath mat. Cranking the shower to steamy hot, Holly’s muscles relaxed beneath the spray. Accustomed to the brevity of military style showers, she let herself enjoy a full ten minutes. Tonight was special. The last time she’d gone out to dinner was four months ago, and that was with Aunt Mae at the local diner. Not that there was any wrong with the diner, home of the best Reuben sandwich in New Hampshire, but she looked forward to dressing a bit more formal. Her black cocktail dress begged to leave her closet, even for one night, its price tag still dangling from its sleeve.

Stepping out of the tub, she reached for the stark white bath towel, pressing its rich piles to her skin, her skin pink from the hot water. Knotting the towel between her breasts, she grasped the hair dryer and heated the fogged mirror in concise spirals with surgical precision. Her muted image sharpened as the steam dissolved from the glass. She set the blow dryer down and stared at her reflection. Holly frowned. Maybe the nurses were right. She couldn’t compete with them in that “girly” way, ten years their senior and a decade plus of sleepless call nights etched upon her face. She puckered her lips and squinted, inspecting her every little line, every flaw of her face, tugging the skin over her cheekbones toward her ears. Holly dropped her hands from her face, placed them on the vanity countertop, and leaned closer to the mirror. The natural look wouldn’t do this evening. She pulled open a drawer containing make-up still sealed. Gifts from Aunt Mae.

“You’re a lovely young woman,” she’d say, “but a little on the pale side, always cooped up at the hospital. A smidgeon of blush over a nice foundation comes in handy on a winter’s day.”

She left the drawer open while drying her hair, contemplating just how much to apply.

Her blonde shoulder length hair dry and shiny, she gave the ends just enough wave with the curling iron. She nodded to her reflection. A scalpel wasn’t the only instrument she wielded with success. Holly rubbed in a few dabs of foundation onto her face, finishing her efforts with sparing pats of powder and glimmer of blush. Black mascara and a hint of rose pink lip-gloss completed her makeover. She still looked like Holly Green, but just with a little polish.

Slipping her feet back into her bunny slippers, towel clad she pattered into her bedroom, exchanging terry cloth for matching sheer black bra and panties, a luxury lingerie impulse buy. She retired Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit for the evening, pulling on hosiery, and rescuing her black cocktail dress from her closet. Holly cut the price tag off with a sharp snip of scissors. It was like slicing through an opening day red ribbon. Tonight it would be her and Noel’s opening night. She wiggled into the black dress, stretching her arms through the lacy long sleeves. The “V” neck bodice revealed just enough cleavage, not too virginal, not too slutty. She slid her feet into a pair of black pumps. Wearing operating room clogs and flats every day, Holly practiced walking in heels, teetering a bit in the beginning, but promenading elegantly within the next ten minutes.

The living room grandfather clock chimed seven times. Her heart beat fast and her stomach fluttered. She skirted from her bedroom without tripping in her heels, and sat on the sofa, poised with legs crossed, awaiting Noel’s arrival.

Holly glanced at her watch. Seven-ten. No Noel yet. She shifted on the sofa. When the clock played its quarter past the hour tune, there was a knock on the door. She leapt from the couch, and started to run toward the door, but slowed to a brisk walk, not wanting to appear too desperate. With one hand on her coat dangling from the coat rack and the other on the doorknob, she smiled and opened the front door. She had to look down to find him. Ten year-old Sam stood on her stoop holding out a drugstore plastic bag.

“This is for you, Dr. Green. Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, Sam!” Although disappointed Noel wasn’t on the other side of her door, Sam’s toothy grin pulled a smile on her lips.

“Go head, open it,” Sam said, a blush gracing his cherub cheeked face.

Holly pulled the edges of the bag apart and peeked inside. A Christmas card without an envelope sat on top a box of cherry cordials.

“Did you spend the money you earned on this gift?”

Still smiling, Sam shrugged.

“Thank you, Sam. That’s so thoughtful of you. Come in. I don’t want you to have spent your hard earned money on me. These are actually my favorite chocolates. But let me give you some spending money for yourself.”

He shook his head. “Not necessary. I’m glad you like the candy. I picked out the card all by myself.”

“It’s lovely!”

“I gotta to go, Dr. Green. I’m late for supper. You should really get a Christmas tree. Then you could put those chocolates under it. But just because you don’t have a tree, doesn’t mean you can eat them before Christmas.”

She winked at him. “I promise I’ll wait until Christmas! Goodnight, Sam.”

Holly stepped out on her stoop and watched Sam cross the street and go back inside his house. She looked down her street both ways. No cars. No Noel. Sam wasn’t the only one late for dinner.

Seven thirty came and went.

Holly slumped into the sofa and grasped a throw pillow by its edges, flipping it in circles, and when the clock struck eight, she tossed it aside, stood, turned off the living room light, and retreated to her bedroom. Unzipping her dress, she let it slide down her legs, and then hung it back into her closet. She slid off her hose and removed her fancy lingerie, trading them for cotton panties and pajamas. Holly sniffled while brushing her teeth. She took a deep breath. Noel Shepherd wasn’t going to make her cry. He was probably clinking his beer mug with Ashley and the Granite State Medical crew at Callahan’s right this minute. She trudged into her bedroom, set her alarm clock to 5:30 a.m., and dodged under her bedcovers. It was just after 8:00 p.m. Ordinarily she stayed up until 11, but there was no point in prolonging the evening.

Headlights filled her bedroom. Holly squinted. A car had pulled into her drive. She heard its door shut. Footsteps led up to her stoop. Three knocks thudded on her front door, and after a pause, the doorbell rang.

“Holly. It’s Noel. Are you all right?”

She pulled the sheet over her head and didn’t answer back.

Chapter Seven

Holly gritted her teeth. Noel’s persistent knocking on her front door echoed in her head. She whipped back the covers and crammed her feet into her bunny slippers. Grabbing her robe, she punched her arms through the sleeves and yanked the belt around her waist, knotting it with haste. She stomped into the living room and turned on the light. Holly jammed her heels into the hardwood floor with every furious step. The man was over an hour late. He didn’t even bother to call.
Coward! I bet he didn
’
t want me to hear the bar crowd
’
s cheers in the background.
She clenched her fingers around the doorknob, yanked open the front door, and glared at him. Noel’s eyes widened. He leaned back.

She shot her hands to her hips. “What do you want Noel?”

He paused and then softly said, “Perhaps I have the wrong house. Does Dr. Holly Green live here?”

She twisted her lips. “You’re looking at her.”

“Well, although she looks quite sporting in those pajamas,” he gazed downward, “and in those furry rabbit slippers, she might be a tad underdressed for Chez Jacques, not to mention that those bunny’s may bolt when they see the chef’s version of lapin.”