Cheaper Isn’t Always Better: But Free Is Always Best, so #Relax’nRead On Me By Margo Hoornstra

          What is up with toilet paper these days? Is it just me, or are the rolls themselves becoming narrower, the cardboard tubes inside wider? In other words, less product for the same, or larger, price.

I don’t know how this is working at your house. At ours, there seems to be much more movement and play around the spindle. Not at all like some of the public restrooms where the toilet paper roll is packed so tight into the holder, you’re lucky to get off one teeny tiny square at a time. Or bits and pieces that are totally useless. Still, there is so much paper provided. Doesn’t that make you feel like a cherished customer?

Your basic advertising/sales tool is at play here, product enhancement-modifying existing products so they appear to be improved. We’ve all seen the ad strategies used. Same great product, more manageable (read smaller) package. More rolls for your money!

Let’s face it, as far as a market, we are locked in. Toilet paper manufacturers can pretty much charge as much as they want for as little as they want to offer. I mean, consider the alternative.  On second thought, don’t.

Bottom line, I know I’ll always be a good toilet paper consumer. Not of the cut rate brands either. Did that once and it sure wasn’t pretty. Thought I’d found a good sale so I stocked up. Never again. Took forever to use it all, because no way was I going to throw even one sheet out unutilized.

That’s not exactly what I set out to share here today. In my defense, a little consumer bias I needed to get off my chest. Proof that cheaper isn’t always a better deal.

Speaking of which, I do have one too. A deal that is. And not cheaper even – FREE.

A romance short story, available for FREE download.

Back in the day, as they say, my father wrote scripts for a radio show out of Detroit titled Manhunt, which was a forerunner of the television show Dragnet. True stories pulled from actual police files, as they also say.

This story is based on one of those scripts.

Free Download - Margo Hoornstra

So please, click on the above link and enjoy!

Take some time to #Relax‘nRead.

It’ll help you forget the unfortunate product ‘enhancement’ our toilet paper everywhere is going through.

My days to blog here are the 11^th and 23^rd.

For more about me and the stories I write, please visit my WEBSITE

Harriet's Christmas Wish - Chapter Three by Alison Henderson

“Poppy! Poppy!”

Marnie raced along the bluffs behind the cottage, shouting her daughter’s name, but the blustery wind stole the words from her lips. With impatience, she brushed away long auburn tendrils that slapped her face, barely noticing the icy tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Poppy! Poppy!” Where could she be?

Guilt hammered in Marnie’s chest. She’d been snappish and short with the child last night after the scene with Bryce at the office yesterday, and now Poppy was gone. Marnie had been embarrassed, yes, but also hurt. Knowing her tender, observant five-year-old saw through her carefully cultivated cheerfulness to the loneliness she kept hidden away in a corner of her heart had hurt.

This morning, she’d sent Poppy to her room to play after breakfast while she finished the dishes and started a load of laundry. When she’d checked an hour later, the room was empty. She’d searched the house without success then called Livy in near-hysterics. Livy had quickly mobilized a search party, and now half the town was combing every inch of ground a five-year-old could cover in an hour for signs of the child.

“Marnie, wait up!”

At the sound of her name, she turned her head.

Bryce came loping up. The wind had disheveled his coffee-colored curls, and his cheeks were stained red by the cold. “No sign of her yet?”

Marnie shook her head, tears continuing to leak from the corners of her eyes. Towering gray clouds roiled overhead, ripe with the scent of rain. “It’s going to storm soon.”

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and scanned the bluff. “Have you checked the lighthouse?”

She shook her head again. “Why would she go there? It should be locked, anyway. It’s been closed for years.”

“We should try it, just to be sure.” He reached for her hand.

As he led her toward the faded, red-and-white striped lighthouse on the point, the heat from his hand banished some of the chill encasing her heart.

When they reached the old wooden door of the lighthouse, Marnie sucked in a quick breath. The lock was dangling from a single rusted screw. She stood back while Bryce gave it a tug. The door creaked opened about a foot. He yanked harder, and it fell open, sending a shaft of light onto the small figure of her daughter, huddled against the far wall, clutching her stuffed bunny.

She raced past Bryce and gathered Poppy into her arms, hugging her close and stroking her hair. “Baby, what are you doing here? I was so worried.” Tears threatened to clog her throat as the words tumbled out.

Poppy sniffed. “Harriet and I took a walk.”

“Why would you do that? You know you’re not supposed to leave the house alone.”

“I was sad.” Poppy drew back a few inches and met Marnie’s gaze. “You walk outside when you’re sad.” Her lower lip quivered.

Marnie struggled to contain her tears at the sight of her daughter’s misery. “But why did you come to the lighthouse? Why didn’t you come home?”

Poppy sniffed. “The wind made my ear hurt worse, and we were a long way from the house. Harriet thought maybe we could get in here, and she was right.” She hugged the bunny closer.

Bryce stepped from the shadows and crouched beside them. “I think we should get you home. If I carry you, we can go really fast. Would that be okay?” He held out his arms to Poppy. She hesitated then nodded and allowed him to pick her up.

Marnie pulled off her knit hat and tucked it over her daughter’s curls, tugging it down over her ears, then nodded to Bryce. “Let’s go.”

He kept his head down against the wind, shielding Poppy with his body, and Marnie followed behind, down the well-worn footpath. As soon as they reached the cottage, she bundled Poppy into bed with a dose of children’s pain reliever and a cup of cocoa. When she returned to the kitchen, Bryce was leaning against the counter, waiting.

“How’s she feeling?” he asked.

“Better, I think.” She met his concerned gaze. “Thank you for helping me find her. I wouldn’t have thought to check the lighthouse.”

His lips quirked up to one side. “You know what they say, it takes a village. And you had most of Boulder Bay helping today.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and blinked hard as emotion threatened to overcome her again. “But you helped the most.”

He closed the distance between them and took both her hands in his. “Marnie, look at me.”

She hesitated, then complied. What she saw in his eyes kindled a warmth deep inside her.

“Was Poppy right?” His tone was gentle.

She wasn’t ready to face the question head-on. “Right about what?”

“You know what I mean. Your daughter thinks you’re lonely and sad.” When she remained silent, he continued. “Children have a way of seeing through us to the truth.”

She shrugged.

Bryce tightened his grip on her hands. “Parenting is tough. Life is tough. Don’t feel like you have to go it alone. Everyone in town is on your side, ready to help.”

“Including you?”

“Especially me.”

The unspoken offer in his words caused a small crack in the protective shell around her heart, but she couldn’t give in. The shell was all that had held her together the past two years. “I’m doing fine.”

“You’re doing a great job, but that’s not the point. I want to help you. Let me help, Marnie.”

“You have helped me. You were there for us when we needed you today.”

He pulled her closer until her cheek rested against his chest. His arms enfolded her without pressure. “I’ve missed you.” His breath stirred the fine hairs on the top of her head.

“I’ve missed you, too.” The soft flannel of his shirt muffled her words.

“I know you’ve suffered an overwhelming loss, but when you’re ready, I want to be there for you…every day.”

“That’s what Tom said.” She couldn’t keep the bitter edge from her voice.

Bryce loosened his grip and eased back until their gazes met. “And I’m sure he meant it. Life doesn’t come with promises or guarantees. In our profession, we know that better than most. All any of us can do is reach for what happiness we can and savor every minute for as long as possible.” He hesitated, gazing deep into her eyes, as if he was trying to see all the way to her soul. “I think we could be happy together, Marnie.”

Could she take the chance? Should she take the chance?

The crack widened until the shell splintered.

She raised her hands to Bryce’s shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and pressed her lips to his. His arms instantly came around her, lifting her off her feet. Her head grew light as the kiss seemed to go on forever.

“Mommy.”

They broke apart and turned in unison to face the small figure in footed pajamas, standing in the doorway, clutching a stuffed bunny.

Poppy’s eyes sparkled. “I think Harriet is going to get her Christmas wish.”

From the circle of Bryce’s arms, Marnie smiled. “I think she just might.”

Harriet's Christmas Wish - Chapter Two by Alison Henderson

The minute he stepped through the doorway, Bryce’s gaze landed on Marnie and stuck. He hadn’t seen her in more than ten years, but she still had the power to make him forget everyone else in the room. Her silky auburn hair was pinned up in some kind of twisty thing instead of loose across her shoulders as he remembered, and a few faint lines fanned out from the corners of her emerald eyes, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman.

A beautiful woman who was staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns.

As soon as he could slip away from the throng of well-wishers waiting to shake his hand and welcome him back to Boulder Bay, he went in search of Marnie. He found her alone in the break room refilling a tray of cookies.

“Marnie, I know this must be a shock to you,” he began.

She glanced up with a tight smile. “You have no idea.”

“I told Henry not to keep the announcement secret, but he insisted everyone would be thrilled. You don’t look thrilled.”

“It’s just a surprise, is all.” She picked up the tray and turned toward the door.

“I’d hoped you’d be happy. After all, we’re old friends.”

Old friends who were once so much more.

“It’s nice to see you again, after so many years, Bryce. Now, if you’ll let me pass, I need to get these cookies out to the food table.”

He ran one hand through his hair and released a frustrated sigh. “We’re going to be working together, seeing each other every day. I don’t want this to be weird.”

She raised one brow, and a tiny smile tickled her lips. “I’ll promise not to be weird if you will.”

His heart jumped, and he grinned and stepped aside.

Bryce spent the weekend moving into his new apartment and picking apart his decision to leave his job in the Emergency Room of a gritty urban hospital to return to tiny Boulder Bay. He definitely wouldn’t miss Detroit, but what would it be like to work in a small family practice clinic with people who had known him only as Bryce Archer, all-state star linebacker? He’d headed off to the University of Michigan on a scholarship and stayed for medical school, with only brief trips home. Now he was back to stay. He hoped.

The official transition date was January first, but Dr. Carrington had invited him to work alongside him for the last two weeks of December to get used to the staff and patients. Bryce enjoyed seeing old high school friends, several of whom brought their children in with assorted coughs, bumps, and bruises. He didn’t even mind the members of his mother’s book club who made appointments for “check-ups,” when he knew all they really wanted was to check him out.

He just wished Marnie would relax around him.

She was always pleasant but seemed to make a point of being needed elsewhere whenever he was with a patient. Not that he minded working with Shirley, the other nurse, but she’d been at the clinic as long as he could remember, and it was hard to maintain a professional relationship with the woman who had given you booster shots when you were ten.

At around one-fifteen on the Friday of his first week with the practice, Bryce was in his office between patients, stuffing down a ham sandwich and struggling to enter his notes from the morning’s appointments into the unfamiliar computer record system.

He was ready to stick a pen in his eye when a soft knock sounded, and his door opened. Marnie stuck her head in. “Dr. Carrington said you might need some help.”

He tossed the pen into his empty coffee cup in frustration. “I’d hoped it wasn’t that obvious.”

She huffed out a breath. “It took him almost six months to master the new system. I’m sure he just wants to shorten your suffering.” She walked around behind him and leaned over his shoulder. “Let me take a look at what you’re trying to do.”

He tried to pay attention to her staccato instructions and swift mouse clicks, but the light, spicy scent of her hair and the soft pressure of her breasts against his back drove every other thought from his mind.

After ten minutes of torture, he covered her hand with his to still its frenetic movement. “Let’s save the rest for another time. My head is spinning.” Which was true.

She withdrew her hand abruptly and straightened. “Okay. Another time.”

As she turned to leave, he caught her wrist. “You don’t have to leave just because my brain has reached its limit of techno-speak. Have you had lunch yet? I’d be happy to share.” He waved the untouched half of his sandwich as if it were filet mignon.

Marnie hesitated, glanced at her watch then longingly back at the sandwich. “I accept, but only because I’m starving.” She took the sandwich and plopped down in the chair across from him. “We’ll have to make this quick. The next patient is due in fifteen minutes.”

They munched in silence for a couple of minutes, then Bryce cleared his throat. “I am sorry, you know.”

She swallowed and met his gaze with a frown. “Sorry? About what?”

“About the way things ended between us.”

Her mouth tightened. “Things didn’t ‘end between us.’ You went off to school and disappeared from my life.”

He winced at the sharp edge in her tone. “Between football and my pre-med studies, I got so busy I could barely keep up. I let my personal life slip away.”

“You let me slip away. I thought we were in love. I thought we had plans.”

Her accusation stung. “Marnie, be fair. We were just kids. We had no idea what we were up against. Long distance relationships are hard. I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort. I’m sorry I stopped calling. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it like a man.”

She sighed, and her small, rueful smile melted his budding kernel of resentment. “You’re right. I’m not being fair. I guess I’d saved those words up for ten years and had to let them out. At any rate, life worked out for both of us. You’re a doctor now, and I…have Poppy.”

The hint of sadness in her voice gave him a twinge. “I’m also sorry about your husband—Tom, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She blinked a couple of times then gripped the arms of her chair and pushed it back, rising to her feet. “I have to go now. Thanks for the sandwich.”

And she was gone.

Bryce followed her with his gaze, certain he could have handled the conversation better, but not sure how.

A couple of hours later, he pulled the chart of his next patient from the clip on the outside of the exam room door and gave it a quick glance as his hand turned the knob.

Poppy Faraday.

He frowned, wondering why Marnie hadn’t mentioned her daughter had an appointment that afternoon during their brief lunch. But then, they hadn’t had much time for conversation. Chart in hand, he opened the door with what he hoped was a warm, friendly smile. Children were always apprehensive coming to the doctor’s office, and sick children even more so.

A small girl with bright red hair sat on the exam table hugging a slightly shabby and obviously well-loved stuffed rabbit. Marnie’s sister Livy sat in the chair beside her.

Bryce nodded at Livy then turned his attention to the child. “Hi, Poppy. I’m Dr. Archer. How are you today?”

“I have an earache.” Poppy’s voice was small and soft.

“We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” He carefully inserted a lighted otoscope into her right ear and whistled his best imitation of a bird call.

Poppy tried to turn her head. “What’s that?”

“I’m not sure, but I think you might have a bird’s nest in here.”

She giggled. “That’s silly. Besides, it’s the other ear that hurts.”

“I see.”

Satisfied her right ear was healthy, he checked the left. The eardrum was mildly inflamed, and he could see fluid behind it. As he was removing the otoscope, the door opened and Marnie stepped in.

She hurried to Poppy’s side, slipped an arm around her narrow shoulders, and gave her a little squeeze. “How are you feeling, sweetie? Aunt Livy called me and said you have an earache.”

Poppy nodded.

Marnie sent Bryce a questioning glance.

He slipped the otoscope into his pocket. “At this point, she just has a mild inflammation. I’d hold off on antibiotics for now and stick with a mild pain reliever unless the discomfort gets worse. I think she’ll be fine.”

Marnie nodded then gave her daughter another squeeze.

Bryce pulled a cherry-flavored lollipop from the stash he kept in another pocket. “Poppy, do you think your bunny would like a sucker?”

The little girl gave him a don’t-be-ridiculous look. “Harriet doesn’t eat candy. It makes her fur sticky.”

“How about you?”

“Oh, I eat candy—when Mommy lets me.” She glanced at Marnie, who nodded. Poppy accepted the treat. “Thank you.” She pursed her lips, tilted her head, and gave him a long, appraising glance. Then she smiled. “You’re nice. Harriet thinks so, too. She wonders if you could be Mommy’s friend. Mommy’s sad a lot, and Harriet thinks she needs a new friend for Christmas.”

Bryce raise his brows. “Your bunny thinks Mommy needs a new friend for Christmas?”

Poppy gave a solemn nod.

               Bryce raised his gaze to Marnie. Her face was the color of Poppy’s sucker. Biting back a smile, he turned a serious face to the little girl. “Thank you, Poppy. I’d like to be your Mommy’s friend.”

Harriet's Christmas Wish - Chapter One by Alison Henderson

Pulling this off would take a Christmas miracle.

Marnie Faraday bit her lip as she scanned her to-do list for the umpteenth time. The pre-Christmas, happy-retirement, surprise party she was planning for Dr. Carrington was less than twenty-four hours away, and Alice Bosley had just called to say her oven had conked out and she wouldn’t be able to bring the cookies she’d promised.

Marnie counted the items already designated with an M—signifying she was responsible for them—and tried to figure out if she could squeeze in enough time to bake and decorate three dozen Santa cookies. But she already had a brisket slow-roasting in her only oven, so unless she stayed up all night, the cookies weren’t happening. Maybe Suzanne, the medical office receptionist, could help. Suzanne was already bringing meatballs in a slow cooker, but perhaps she could enlist the help of her teenage daughter and a couple of friends.

As soon as Suzanne got off the phone with someone wanting an appointment the following week, Marnie started to ask about the cookies. But her question turned into a short squeak when Dr. Carrington suddenly appeared beside her at the reception desk. He might be in his seventies, but he still had the stealth of a panther when it suited him. She quickly slid the list of party chores under a patient file and crossed her fingers he hadn’t seen it.

Along with everyone else in the tiny coastal town of Boulder Bay, Oregon, Marnie loved Henry Carrington. He’d been the only G.P. in town since before she was born. Two years ago, she’d come home from Portland, battered by grief and with a three-year old in tow, and he’d quickly found a place for her in his practice when his long-time nurse retired.

Now it was his turn to slow down and take life a little easier, and she was happy for him. He and his wife had given so much to the community. They deserved more time for each other and for their children and grandchildren. But Marnie was also sad and a little anxious. Once again, her life was about to undergo a major upheaval. The doctor had announced to the staff that he’d agreed to sell the practice to a new physician at the end of the year. He’d promised no one would lose their job but refused to give any details about their new boss.

Peering over the half-glasses perched on the end of his nose, Dr. Carrington scanned the empty waiting room. “Do we have any more patients today?”

Suzanne shot a quick glance at Marnie then checked her big appointment book. “Elaine Kellogg called and asked if she could bring Joe in around four-thirty for a quick check. Apparently, he got hit in the head with a basketball during gym class, and she wants to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

The doctor nodded. “You can’t be too careful.” He straightened, blue eyes twinkling. “With any luck, we can set Elaine’s mind at rest and have them out of here before five o’clock. I don’t want to keep you ladies late tonight. After all, tomorrow’s a big day.” He turned and headed back to his office with a chuckle.

Shoot. He knows.

Marnie and Suzanne exchanged glances. Suzanne shook her head with a wry smile. “We should have known there was no way to keep him in the dark. That man knows everything.”

Marnie sighed. It was true. After decades of attending to the residents’ various complaints, the good doctor literally had his fingers on the pulse of Boulder Bay. She had hoped to surprise him just this once, but it couldn’t be helped. At least she could put on the best non-surprise retirement party the town had ever seen.

Fortunately, Joe Kellogg’s bump turned out to be nothing more than a spectacular bruise. Since Suzanne had agreed to provide the missing three dozen decorated cookies, Marnie was out of the office well before five and on her way to pick up her daughter at her sister’s house before heading home.

Poppy, however, was in no hurry to leave. “I can’t go yet, Mommy,” she whined as Marnie stuffed her into her coat and slid the zipper up to her chin. “Cora and I aren’t done with our puzzle.”

Cora was the six-year-old daughter of Marnie’s sister Livy, and Poppy’s “almost-favorite person in the whole world.” The fact that Cora was a sophisticated first grader only added to her allure. Poppy was still in half-day kindergarten.

Marnie bit back an impatient response. “You’ll see Cora tomorrow, and you can both come to the big party at the office in the afternoon.”

Poppy furrowed her brows and poked out her lower lip. “A party in a doctor’s office? That doesn’t sound very fun. Can Harriet come?” Harriet, her stuffed bunny, never left her side.

Marnie took Poppy’s hand. “Of course, Harriet can come. You’ll love the party. Everyone in town is coming, and there will be oodles and oodles of Christmas cookies.” She glanced at Livy for back-up.

“Oodles and oodles,” Livy confirmed with a solemn nod.

“O-kay, I guess.” Poppy clutched Harriet under one arm and allowed herself to be led out the door and boosted into her car seat.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the weathered shingle cottage they’d called home for the past two years. When she’d returned to Boulder Bay, Marnie had still been reeling from the shock of Tom’s death—barely able to think straight, much less make a major decision like buying a house—but the cozy little house on the bluff overlooking the Pacific had whispered to her wounded spirit, promising shelter from life’s storms. She couldn’t pass it up.

The minute she opened the door, the mouth-watering aroma of slow-roasting brisket filled her senses. It would be an exercise in self-control to save it for the party tomorrow.

Her daughter tugged on her hand. “I’m hungry, Mommy.”

“Me, too. Let’s get busy and fix some dinner.”

Poppy climbed up on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and nibbled a carrot stick, occasionally offering a bite to Harriet, while Marnie whipped up a quick pot of boxed macaroni and cheese and boiled a handful of broccoli flowerets. “I like Aunt Livy’s house. It’s too quiet here.”

Marnie pressed her lips together in frustration. Livy had a husband, three children, two dogs, and a cat. Her house was a whirlwind of cheerful, barely controlled chaos, especially before the holidays. “We’ve talked about this before. I know you want a puppy, but you and I are both gone all day. There would be no one to take care of it.”

“I do want a puppy, but that’s not it. I miss Daddy.” Poppy’s voice was small and sad.

Oh, God.

Marnie rounded the counter and wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Me, too, Pops.” Blinking back tears, she kissed the top of the child’s head. “Me, too.”

Tom had been in the final year of his surgery residency when he was diagnosed with a brutally aggressive form of leukemia. Before they really had a chance to come to grips with the diagnosis, he was gone. Two years had passed, and she’d worked hard to build a new life for herself and Poppy, but the pain in her daughter’s voice was like a knife to the heart.

She swallowed hard, pressed one more kiss on Poppy’s hair, and gave her a quick squeeze. “Let’s eat. If you do a good job, there’s ice cream for dessert.”

Poppy rewarded her with a watery smile.

The next afternoon, the last patient left the office at three forty-five. Marnie, Suzanne, and the other two members of the staff raced around clearing space and setting up tables for the party. As she poured another pot of coffee into the big urn in the break room, Dr. Carrington strolled by, humming a silly Christmas song under his breath. Marnie shook her head. Whatever had made her think she could keep the party secret?

Current and former patients—basically everyone in Boulder Bay—began pouring in around four o’clock. Livy arrived with her gang—including Poppy—in tow, and the jazz trio from the high school started playing at four-thirty. Dr. and Mrs. Carrington mingled, chatting with their guests until five, when the doctor stepped in front of the big Happy Retirement sign Marnie and Poppy had made and rapped on a glass beaker from the small lab in back with a pair of bandage scissors.

“If I may everyone’s attention…”

The crowd quieted to an undertone of murmurs.

Dr. Carrington beamed at the group of friends and neighbors who had gathered to thank him for his years of service and wish him well. “I can’t thank you enough for coming. You’ll never know how much your friendship has meant to me and Gloria over the years.” He cast a smile at his plump, petite wife. “We’re not leaving, so we’ll still see you around town…just not in the middle of the night any more, thank goodness.”

Laughter filled the room.

“Now, I have a most important announcement to make. I know you’ve all been anxious to meet your new doctor.” He paused until the murmurs of assent died down. “It gives me great pleasure to introduce someone you all know, a fine young physician…Dr. Bryce Archer!”

After an initial group intake of breath, the room erupted in cheers as a tall, handsome, dark-haired man stepped in from the hallway and shook Dr. Carrington’s hand.

Marnie stared, oblivious to the noise. Her jaw sagged, and the empty paper cup in her hand slid noiselessly to the floor.

Bryce Archer. Her brain refused to accept the news. The new town doctor, and her new boss, was Bryce Archer.

Christmas With You by Margo Hoornstra



 





Part Two

“It’s hard to say.” She recognized his voice but didn’t look up. “I wish I knew.”

“What’s the prognosis?” His hushed tone was indicative of their surroundings.

“The initial operation was a success. The patient is recovering as expected. So far.” She gave into a faint smile as she removed the protective net from her head. “As I told the family members a few moments ago, all we can do is wait. And hope.”

For the first time in hours, actually days it seemed, April took her focus off the business at hand to lift her gaze as Dylan walked closer. Despite the solemn circumstances, a single thought ran through her mind. Good thing her patient was the one hooked up to the heart monitor instead of her. She’d be setting off so many bells and alarms, the room would be swarming with nurses by now.

With sandy blond hair, intense green eyes, leading man good looks and that precious easy smile her husband never failed to set her heart to fluttering. Add those broad shoulders and solid chest to the package, and she was a bonafide goner. Dylan Harper, MD could fill out a set of scrubs with the best of them when he was working. Right now, she was the only one decked out in surgical attire.

“You’re a good surgeon, Mrs. Doctor Harper. I’m sure your patient will do fine.”

“I hope you’re right.” She walked around the bed to stand beside him. “I have to say, I’m exhausted.”

“Eleven hours on your feet in the operating room. You’re entitled.”

How long though, before I cave in to such demands? “Is it Christmas Day yet? I’ve lost all track of time.”

“Just beginning.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the effort, but why are you here?” April knew the answer before she asked. One doctor’s life and schedule was busy enough for a marriage to endure. Multiplied by two, private couple time was at a definite premium. If her hunch was right, time together would soon become an even more precious commodity.

“We didn’t get to see each other yesterday at all. I wanted to make up for that. Today especially. Plus, as I’ve told you before, we’ll be together for Christmas Day. No matter what.”

“Dylan, that is so sweet.” Tension held in for hours flowed out of her as a surge of warmth settled around her heart. Emotion clogged her throat and tears threatened. She tamped down on both. “Now that you’re here, though, and we’ve spent a few minutes together today, go home. One of us should be allowed to get some sleep. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The corners of her mouth drew down in contemplation as her regard returned to her patient. “She’s not out of the woods yet.”

“I know.” His fingers trailed down her arm before he took her hand in his. “You’ve done all you can. The rest of your team can take it from here. Come home with me. Leave your car. I’ll drive you.”

“I really shouldn’t leave the hospital until she’s more stable. In case we need to take her back into surgery.” She kept her voice steady and professional while her thoughts flew off to other things. How will it feel when I’m the patient and someone else was the physician watching over me?

His grip on her tightened. “You can afford to take a short break though, can’t you?”

“Maybe a short one.”

Unfortunately, this was not the time, surely not the place, to share with him what else weighed on her mind.

Perception more than propriety made them drop hands as they left the room and entered the hallway.

April stopped at the nurses’ station long enough to give last minute patient care instructions. “Page me if there are any changes. Good or bad.”

As they stood before the staff elevator, he retook her hand while they awaited its arrival.

Heart heavy with guilt, she glanced up at him. “We agreed to spend Christmas Day together, and I end up working.”

“You had no control over when a healthy lung would become available.”

A small smile was her answer as the elevator door slid open. The moment they stepped inside she scrambled into his arms. Incredible warmth seeped into her from touching him and nearly stole her breath. She so needed this right now, his presence, his strength. And wonder of wonder, her husband never failed to deliver. May it always be so. Even after…

The elevator bounced to a gentle stop. He released her from his arms and once again took her hand. The large cafeteria they entered was filled with bright lights and empty tables.

“You sit. I’ll get us coffee.”

“Yes, sir.” April sank into a booth just inside the door.

A few interns hugging Styrofoam cups of coffee, no doubt in the midst of an infamous thirty-six hour shift, congregated at a corner table. Despite the grueling schedule, they discussed patients they’d seen on rounds earlier in tones clear and animated. Full of hope.

Before long Dylan slid a similar Styrofoam cup in front of her. April brushed drooping bangs off her forehead and gave in to a jaw cracking yawn. “Remember those days?” Her head tilt indicated the cluster of scrub clad students.

“Something you don’t forget.”

“It never gets old, does it?”

For as long as she could remember, April was convinced she’d be happy working as a nurse. Until Dylan came along and urged her to apply for medical school. One of many precious things her husband provided. More than a decade later, with an internship, residency and a demanding specialty fellowship successfully completed, she was a full-fledged, board certified specialist in thoracic surgery. With the knowledge and skill to save lives. A potent calling, but not without its drawbacks.

When Dylan had yet to reply to her comment, she changed the subject.

“Those decorations around here are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“They’re decent, I suppose. Pretty typical.” He didn’t look at her as he sipped his coffee. “A far cry from the first Christmas tree you and I shared.”

The arrival of long ago memories made her smile. “The display model we rescued.”

“Back when patients didn’t take priority over everything else in our lives.”

The sudden bitterness in his tone surprised her. Too bad she didn’t have the strength to challenge it. “My heart goes out to her boyfriend. He hasn’t left her side in three days.”

“Never get personally involved with a patient. That’s almost as sacred a pledge as the Hippocratic Oath we both took. Among others vows. Those we made to each other.”

“I can’t let him lose her, Dylan. The man is pretty devoted. He even pleaded with us to allow him in the OR with her. Said he’d take an alcohol bath if he had to.”

“You’re part of a surgical team, April. Along with two other physicians as qualified as you are to take care of this patient.”

He was right and she knew it. The surgical team model was designed to keep a single physician from becoming exhausted and, therefore, ineffective. That didn’t apply here though. It didn’t. How can I explain to him this might be my last case for a while?

At the vibration from her pocket, she bolted upright. Pager in hand, she hit the speaker button. “Doctor Harper.”

On a flat out run toward the intensive care unit seconds later, she listened to details of the complication she had so hoped wouldn’t develop. “I’ll be right there.”

As she took the stairs two at a time to get to her patient, it dawned on her. She hadn’t even paused long enough to kiss Dylan good-bye.

###

Please come back tomorrow for the conclusion of Christmas With You. And, for more about me and my stories, please visit my WEBSITE

The Christmas Jailbirds by Diane Burton

Part 3

“Well, now. Is everyone here?” Santa, aka Judge DeVran, asked. “Lawyers? Since this is such an important case?” His eyes twinkled beneath the white fur of his hat.

George stood. “Yes, sir. We’re all here. We don’t need lawyers.”

“Deputy, get those ridiculous handcuffs off those two. You know better.” As soon as the cuff were removed, Judge Santa said, “Now what is this all about?”

Dawson drew himself up. “Florence Ten Eyck and George Watson are accused of trespassing and theft. Here’s the evidence.” He held up the large bag then spilled the contents onto the table in front of the judge.

“Tell me, Deputy. Are those five loaves of bread?”

“Yes, sir. From the dumpster at Randolph’s bakery.”

“Florence and George, why were you taking bread from the dumpster? The Far Haven Mission feeds those in need.”

“The bread isn’t for us,” George said. “We feed the birds with it.”

Florence stood. “Danny, I mean Your Honor, sir. That stingy old Duncan Randolph wouldn’t give me the bread when I asked him. We feed it to the birds at Waterfront Park.”

“Deputy, you called me away from my important duties at the hospital for this?” He shoved up his fur cuff to look at his watch.

“Yes, sir. I—”

“If Santa is late for the children’s holiday party, it will be your fault, Deputy. Case dismissed.” Santa banged the gavel then stood.

“But, sir—”

“Deputy Dawson, do you understand the words ‘case dismissed’?” He banged the gavel again.

“But—”

“Speak again, boy—” Santa shook the gavel at him. “—and you’ll be the one spending Christmas in jail. Dismissed. Get out of here. All of you.”

George and Florence stood and hugged each other, Santa left the room, and Deputy Dawg walked down the aisle with his tail between his legs, and the handcuffs on his belt jangling like the bells on Santa’s sleigh.

Outside the courthouse, Florence hugged George again, Sam, and Bethany. Then she looked at Abby. “This was the most fun I’ve had in years. Don’t ruin it with a lecture.”

Abby thought of several things to say—none of them good. “It’s okay, Mom. Let’s go home.”

After hugging her daughter, Florence said, “George, you and Sam come for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Abby’s cooking at my house. Two o’clock and don’t be late.”

George grinned. “You’ve told me so much about Abby’s prowess in the kitchen, I can’t wait.”

After Sam and George left, Abby turned to her mother. “Why did you invite them? We hardly know them.”

“You’re going to have to get used to George being around. Besides, I don’t want those two bachelors eating Christmas dinner at Denny’s or some such place.”

As they got in the car, what her mother said registered. “What do you mean we have to get used to George being around?”

“I love him.”

“That’s really cool, Grandma. Are you going to marry him?”

“Maybe, maybe not. We haven’t figured that out yet.”

Abby drove in silence, barely taking in the conversation between her mother and her daughter. Mom was in love, or so she thought. Was that why Mom looked so happy? Was George the reason she’d changed so much? Abby should be happy for her. Instead, she felt numb and—dare she admit it—jealous.

The next afternoon brought more snow and two hungry men to the Ten Eyck house. Abby let her mother show them around while she stayed in the kitchen making sure nothing burned. Despite the vent fan roaring at top speed, the heat from the oven and stovetop made the small room hotter than August. She raised her forearm to wipe the sweat off her brow and to push her damp hair off her face.

“Would you like a towel?” Sam stood in the doorway under the mistletoe Bethany had hung last night.

“You startled me.” Abby wouldn’t admit she was happy to see him.

“You look very nice. All Christmas-y.” He wore a dark red shirt with a green Grinch tie.

She’d dressed up in her new red sweater with glitter thread woven through it and her black dress slacks instead of her usual reindeer sweatshirt and old jeans because she wanted to. It certainly wasn’t for him.

“I’m fine. Would you like a drink?” she offered.

“Got one. Actually, two.” He held out one glass. “Pop fixed this so it might be a little strong.”

She took a sip then gasped. “A little strong? Yikes.”

Sam chuckled. “I guess we’re going to be seeing each other often.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You don’t sound too happy.” He gave her a wary look. “Don’t you like my father?”

“I never met him until last night. If Mother is in love with him, why hasn’t she introduced us?”

“Maybe she was afraid you wouldn’t approve. In fact, you and I haven’t been properly introduced.” He held out his hand. “Sam Watson.”

She wiped her hand on her apron before clasping his. “Abby Ten Eyck.”

His big hand engulfed hers, warm, reassuring, strong.

“It’s not that I disapprove,” she said. “And I want her to be happy . . .”

“You don’t know us,” he finished. Still holding her hand, he led her to the doorway. “If the folks do get married, that would make us brother and sister. Here’s to getting to know us better.” He glanced up at the mistletoe then kissed her. “Merry Christmas, Sis.”

           That wasn’t a brotherly kiss.

I hope you enjoyed "The Christmas Jailbirds." For more stories that take place in the fictional town of Far Haven, Michigan, check out The Case of the Bygone Brother (An Alex O'Hara novel) and the latest Alex O'Hara mystery, The Case of the Fabulous Fiancé, available soon at online retailers.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, or however you celebrate the holidays. See you in 2016.

Come back tomorrow for Margo Hoornstra's story,"Christmas With You."