One Great Christmas Love Story (MyHeartChannel Christmas Romance)

by Kaylee Baldwin

  Holly took in a quick breath. She knew how dangerous and destructive those could be.

  Francis shook his head. “Nearly took my arm off, but they were able to save it. I got sent back to the states, and once I was back to work, they assigned me to the lifestyles section of the paper. Thus, the assignment to go to Pauline’s aunt’s hundredth birthday party.”

  “Where you met Pauline,” Holly said.

  “Where I met Pauline,” he confirmed. “Elbow deep in the toilet.”

  Pauline groaned and covered her face with her hands. “You will never let me live this down.”

  “Apparently, one of her grandchildren had flushed Aunt Helena’s wedding ring down the toilet. Or at least thought they had. So Pauline was trying to find it before Aunt Helena discovered it missing.”

  “Aunt Helena may have been a hundred years old, but she was still as sharp as a tack. She only took that ring off to garden and to wash dishes, so heaven only knows how the grandkids got a hold of it.”

  “I went in to wash my hands and found Pauline there, elbow deep in the toilet. Turned out that she was stuck.” At this, his eyes watered with mirth.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” Pauline said resignedly, but with amusement shining in her own eyes.

  “I managed to help her get free.”

  “In the process, I knocked the bathroom trash can over, and what was in it but the priceless wedding ring? I had gotten stuck in a toilet for nothing.”

  Francis couldn’t talk for a moment, he was laughing so hard. It sounded wheezy and devolved into a cough at the end, but his eyes filled with so much amusement, it didn’t alarm Holly too much.

  “To put it mildly, I was charmed by her,” Francis said. “But she blew me off. Hard.”

  “Of course I did! What self-respecting woman is going to stick around in that situation?” she huffed good-naturedly.

  “I found out from one of her sisters that Pauline’s husband died in Iraq.”

  “He was an army doc who was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Pauline supplied quietly.

  “And an idea on a new story started to form. A story on someone who has lost a spouse. My editor was hesitant—with good reason—but finally gave me the go to write it up and then he’d decide.”

  Pauline looked at him then, her eyes full of love. “They never did print the story, but it’s where we began.”

  Holly watched them together, her own heart softening, molding into something different, even.

  “You know,” Francis said. “I didn’t think lightning could strike a person twice, especially for someone like me, but how wrong I was.”

  The words nearly stopped Holly’s breath. It was almost exactly what she’d thought about her Dad—who kept looking for that second love to hit him again.

  “That’s not to say that everything was roses and chocolates after that.” Pauline shook her head.

  “Nope.” Francis laughed, his eyes distant, as though remembering a memory from long ago. “We’d both lost someone we loved. We were both wary of opening ourselves up to something like that again, but it wasn’t long before those worries were swept away in the wake of something stronger.”

  Pauline shrugged. “I knew I loved him and didn’t want to wait another minute worrying about what-ifs and a future I couldn’t see. So when he proposed to me—”

  “Two months after I met her,” Francis cut in.

  “—I said yes. And we were married a couple of weeks after that.”

  “It’ll be fifteen years this spring,” he said.

  Holly paused, not quite sure how to ask her next question, but knowing she needed to. “Did you feel any guilt about moving on?”

  Pauline tilted her head in thought. “Maybe, but guilt isn’t quite the right word to describe my feelings. It was almost a sense of regret that things were different than I’d planned and expected. I try not to compare Francis and my first husband, but accept each experience for what it is and what it brought into my life.”

  Francis’s hold on Pauline’s hand tightened, and she laughed as she swiped away her tears.

  “I didn’t know I was going to go all crybaby on your show. Anyway, I learned that there was room in my heart for another love. The capacity our hearts have for love is immense.” She paused, then rolled her eyes at herself. “Look at me, lecturing the cardiologist about the heart.”

  Holly sat back in her chair, running her mind over her words. “What if Francis dies, though?” she asked Pauline, the words tumbling from her lips without her thinking it through. “What if you’re hurt again?”

  At first, Pauline looked startled, and then her gaze softened. “It would all be worth it. Life is uncertain. None of us knows how many hours we have left here, and I could spend those hours I have cocooned in a safe bubble where nothing would hurt me again—or I could risk fear and pain and hurt, but really live life. Really feel things.”

  “I guess what it comes down to,” Francis said, “is what makes life worth living. Is it being safe and comfortable all the time? I’ve watched every episode of your show, and every one’s story has one thing in common: at one point, they all took a risk. Sometimes they risked rejection, when they reached out to someone who wasn’t in their normal social circle. They risked having to change their familiar life by falling for someone who lived halfway around the world. Or that risk was heartbreak when they stepped deeper into a relationship with seemingly insurmountable obstacles.”

  “Or risk that one of you will get sick or die, especially when you marry in the golden years of your life,” Pauline added.

  “Love is worth the risk,” Francis concluded.

  Holly reached forward to turn off the camera, knowing that it would be the perfect ending. Still, she felt unsettled. Would she have pushed for this interview if she’d known it was their second marriage?

  Their second great love. It changed the premise of her whole show, didn’t it?

  “Are you okay?” Francis asked. “You look a little dazed.”

  Pauline handed her a fresh cup of water, and Holly took a sip from it, trying to snap her mind back into the present. “I’m fine,” she said weakly. “Just processing.”

  Francis and Pauline shared a concerned look. “Well, let us know if you need anything.”

  She said her goodbyes, the words a blur, before heading out of the room. She wandered through the hospital, still thinking through everything they’d said, when she somehow found herself standing in front of Jack’s office. She knocked on the door once, and then again, louder. She had no idea what she’d say if he opened it, but she had to say something to repair this.

  “Dr. Whitacre? Can I help you?”

  She turned to see Jack’s assistant standing behind her with a tablet resting on her arm. “I’m looking for Dr. Shay.”

  The woman’s brows turned down in confusion. “But he’s not here. Didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?” Dread pooled in her stomach at the woman’s tone.

  “Dr. Shay transferred over to Denver Central Medical Center, effective immediately. As of this morning, he doesn’t work here anymore.”

  Holly’s knees buckled, and she grabbed the wall for support.

  The medical assistant rushed over to grab her arm. “Dr. Whitacre, are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

  Her words faded in the rush of blood through Holly’s ears. Jack was gone. He had left without telling her.

  She’d lost him.

  Chapter 28

  Nothing was the same without Jack. Holly’s world was smaller: work and editing her MyHeartChannel episodes. She continued to receive a ton of emails asking for more Jack. #JollyForChristmas was going strong, even if she felt as though her entire world had fallen apart.

  This would be her first Christmas where she was actually and truly alone. “Why did you have to ruin everything, Jack?” Holly asked for the millionth time. She finished putting the last dish away at her condo and leaned over the counter, her head in her hands.
/>   It was only six. She still had an entire evening ahead of her.

  Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Then Christmas. Then perhaps she could put all of this behind her. No more #JollyForChristmas. No more magical Christmas settings, perfect for friendship-ruining kisses she couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how hard she tried. Once the New Year hit, she could focus on gray, slushy snow and patients dealing with the ramifications of indulging in too many holiday treats.

  She pulled up Francis and Pauline’s video on her computer to edit it. She needed to air it tomorrow, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to watch it again.

  That didn’t mean the interview hadn’t run through her mind the last three days since she’d filmed them. How they both got a second great love story, and how happy they were. She’d heard of couples getting remarried after death or divorce, but most of the time they were more like Jack, in relationships that hadn’t been, well … great. Then, later in life, they got a second chance.

  Yet she compared that with her dad, who’d had marriage after marriage end in unhappiness. How could she reconcile the two ideas?

  She closed her laptop before Francis could begin to tell the story of how he’d shown up at Pauline’s aunt’s party. She had to get out of her house.

  Without any clear idea of where she might go, Holly grabbed her coat and locked the door behind her. She paused at the stillness of the night. For the first time all month, no music played. She frowned. She should be glad the annoying music had stopped, but she wasn’t. Instead, she realized how used to it she’d gotten, how it had brightened her day.

  Forgoing her car, she walked through her neighborhood. The sun had already set, allowing the old-fashioned streetlights to light her way into the Christmas village of her downtown.

  Festive energy sparkled through the streets, making the decorative lights seem brighter. People came in and out of stores, doing their last-minute shopping. Bells hung from horses dressed as reindeer that trotted by, carrying a Santa-clad man in a sleigh who tossed small toys to groups of children. She held out her hand when he tossed something at her with a wink. A mini Rubik’s cube. Her mom had loved these; in fact, she could solve one in under a minute, a feat that had always eluded Holly.

  Holly tucked it into her coat pocket and headed away from the stores to a quieter part of the street. She didn’t know where she was headed until she arrived there: the small brick church around the corner from the hustle and bustle of the commerce section. The long lawn was covered in a couple inches of snow, but someone had plowed the walkway to the double doors. The half-circle stained-glass depictions of Christ were lit up from the inside with a welcoming glow.

  “It’s free,” someone said. She turned to see a young woman beside her, holding a wiggly toddler in one arm and a baby carrier on the other.

  “What is?” Holly asked.

  The woman’s cheeks turned pink. “The play. I thought that’s why you were standing out here.”

  Holly turned to the church’s sign, which was tucked in the snowy lawn, and saw the words A Christmas Carol 7pm. All Welcome. Her heart thudded dangerously.

  “My oldest is in it,” the woman continued. “He’s playing Tiny Tim. He’s been working on his English accent for a month. It’s adorable, but I won’t be sad when this is over.”

  Her toddler in her arms lurched, and Holly sprang forward to grab him before he fell to the ground. He wiggled out of her grasp and started to run for the church.

  “Thank you. That one never stops.” She started to chase after him, but turned around again. “You should come in out of the cold.”

  A shiver ran through Holly, and she realized how cold and alone she felt. When the woman opened the church doors, the sound of people, friends, talking and laughing filtered out to where she stood. Before she could think too much about it, Holly followed it, drawn toward somewhere she could be with people.

  She pushed open the church doors and was met by an older couple handing out programs. “Welcome,” the woman said. Holly took the red-and-white program; A Christmas Carol was written in cursive across the front. Holly had been to several renditions of this play with her parents, but she didn’t think they’d ever done one out of a church.

  A group of people entered a gym where chairs had been set up in front of a stage. There were probably a hundred people there; everyone seemed to know everyone else. She took an empty seat in the back, her heart racing in the way it only should if she was about to go skydiving, not from sitting in church about to watch a community play.

  She couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over. What in the world was she doing here now, adding more Christmas into her life? Yet she didn’t leave. Something kept her there.

  Well, at that moment, it was more like someone.

  The toddler she’d met outside threw himself across her legs like a seal on a rock. She let out a startled sound of surprise, and then laughed.

  “I’m so sorry!” the woman from outside said, rushing over. Her eyes lit with recognition when she saw Holly. “You decided to come in!” she said, pleased. Then she turned to her son. “Harry, it’s not okay to throw yourself onto strangers.”

  “We’re friends,” his voice, muffled in the leg of Holly’s pants, said.

  “I’m so sorry.” The woman grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up, looking mortified. “I usually have better control of my children. But my husband is running the lights tonight, so I’m flying solo.”

  “You’re totally fine. He’s cute.” Holly didn’t spend much time around children, something she tried to not think about too often. She and Dallon had wanted to wait until they were more settled to have kids. They thought they’d have all the time in the world back then.

  “Well, you’re sweet.” She looked at the empty seat beside Holly, where she’d placed her program out of habit. “Are you waiting for someone?”

  “My friend, Jack,” she said automatically, then paused. “Actually, sorry, no. I’m alone tonight.” How long would it take to get used to not having Jack around? It hadn’t even been a week, and she hardly knew how to function without him. She missed him in a way she’d never expected. It felt as though a piece of her was gone—a big, important piece of her—and she wasn’t whole without him.

  The smallest bit of curiosity lit the woman’s gaze, and Holly was afraid she might ask about it, but then Harry threw himself across her lap again. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” the woman, exasperated. “Harry!”

  Holly laughed, grateful for the distraction. She tickled Harry on the side, causing him to giggle, while his mom tugged on his hand until he stood.

  “He isn’t usually so friendly with strangers, but I guess he likes you.”

  Holly smiled. Maybe Harry had sensed she needed a distraction.

  The overhead lights flickered off and on, and the woman took her son’s hand, waving goodbye to Holly as they took their seats near the front. The lights turned low in the room, and the curtains opened to a brightly lit stage, decorated like an office.

  A man got onstage, wearing period clothing. “The Christmas season!” He paused for a moment. “That phrase will spark a feeling in most who hear it. For some, that feeling is excitement. For others, it’s stress for all the shopping they still need to do and readying the house for family.” This was met with laughter.

  He continued. “And yet, still for others, this phrase will be painful. Whether they are facing a Christmas without their loved ones, or the season is not going as expected, or everyone else seems so much happier, it strikes chords of loneliness and sorrow in them.”

  The room was quieter after this, many people nodding as if they knew someone this described. Holly slumped down in her chair, feeling very seen, even though the lights were out and she’d never met this man in her life.

  He seemed to look right at her when he said, “Whatever your feelings about this season, I hope that you can take this next hour as a moment of respite.”

  She let out a long bre
ath when he looked away.

  “When Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, I don’t know if he expected it to resonate with so many people for so many years. And yet, there’s something in this story for everyone. For the excited, the stressed, and the hurt. We thank you for coming to our play and giving us a slice of your time in the middle of this busy Christmas season. So, without further ado, we present A Christmas Carol.”

  The lights went off, and when they turned on again, the man was sitting at a desk, counting money, while another man sat at a smaller desk across from him, shivering from the cold while he wrote in an accounting ledger.

  Holly relaxed into her seat, a feeling of peace stealing over her at the familiar opening scene. It didn’t take long for her to become immersed in the story and to get invested once again in the transformation and eventual redemption of Scrooge. But this time, unlike all the other times she’d seen it, new things stood out to her. It was almost like watching a new play, except she wasn’t.

  When Scrooge rejected the woman he loved, she felt as though the knife went through her own gut. He rejected her because of his false belief that money was the most important thing he could have. Growing up, this part had always made her upset with Scrooge. How stupid could he be, to give up his one great love? Now, though, she felt an uncomfortable kinship with him. She couldn’t care less about money, except for having enough to live and keep Bridger Cares running. But did she sit at her table, a miser like Scrooge, holding on to her heart, counting the memories—and miseries—in it, and refusing to give it away?

  Did she guard her heart as Scrooge guarded his fortune? He’d done so and lost Belle.

  She gripped the edge of her chair, watching as Scrooge begged for a second chance, and then awoke once again to Christmas morning, a changed man. She smiled when Tiny Tim came onto the stage, and she saw the similarity to his younger brother Harry. His English accent was spot-on, so all of that practice must have paid off.

  The play ended with Tiny Tim’s famous line, “God bless us, every one.”