Okay, this was not going at all how she expected. She regretted even starting this journey. Maybe there were some good women in this group, but did Holly want to sift through all of these emails to find them? Even as she debated, another ten emails came in.
She groaned and went to close her computer when another email popped up. Megan. Holly cringed. She’d forgotten to warn Megan that she’d run with the idea, but with Jack instead of her brother. Might as well open it and get it over with. It wasn’t like this pile of slush could get any worse.
Hi, Holly! Saw the show. I know this is awkward, but I’m going to reach out anyway. I’d love a chance to get to know Jack better. I’m sure you’re completely flooded with responses from women who’d like a chance to date him, and you’d have every right to be upset with me about my brother backing out, but think about it. The show went great, by the way. Great job! Megan.
Holly tapped her fingers on her desk. It wasn’t a terrible idea. She knew Megan. She even liked Megan.
Yes, this might work out really well.
Let’s set up a time, Holly replied back.
Megan replied right away. I’ve got to travel for work next week, but I’m free the week after.
Holly bit her lip. She’d put Megan on the back burner, then, because she needed someone for tomorrow.
With renewed energy, Holly dove back into her inbox and managed to find two other promising emails and replied to the women asking for more information. For the others, she made a form email (a nicer version of thanks, but no thanks), and copied and pasted it before her eyes could take in too much skin or exclamation points.
And the last category—the still-incoming emails commenting on how cute she and Jack were together? Those she completely ignored. Or at least tried to.
Chapter 13
Jack sat in Holly’s extremely comfortable office chair at the Bridger Cares building and kicked his feet up on the desk while he checked his email. He’d left Holly’s assistant huffing in the lobby after he’d walked right past her and into Holly’s office despite her protestations. Holly had the most comfortable chair in the building, and right then he needed comfort—and privacy from stares—more than he needed the receptionist to like him. Maybe she’d put the word out that he was a jerk and the dating list would disappear as quickly as it had appeared.
Jack’s lunch had gone well. The director of Denver Central had definitely known the right things to say to convince him to come over. Better pay. Newer, more high-tech equipment. Not nearly as many hours. She also said they didn’t mind if Jack still worked at the free clinic, even though it was affiliated with Bridger University Hospital. Everything was exactly what he could have hoped for.
He clicked on an email sent from Francis Hendrickson with a subject line: Questions About Holly.
Jack frowned. If this was some creeper who was seeking him out after the video from last night, he would put the man right in his place. And make sure all of Holly’s personal information was unlisted and impossible to find.
Dr. Shay,
I am a patient of Dr. Whitacre’s as well as a reporter at the Bridger Daily. You may recall me as the man who had a heart attack in the cafeteria. Dr. Whitacre gave me your email so I could contact you with interview questions for a story I’m doing on her for our Christmas Edition. My wife and I were fascinated with her—and everything she does—and I know our readers will be as well. Please answer the attached questions at your convenience.
Best,
Francis Hendrickson
Holly had mentioned a patient was writing a story on her, but he sent a quick text to double-check.
Jack: Francis Hendrickson from the Daily emailed me with a list of questions.
He got a response only a few minutes later.
Holly: Sorry, running super late. Took in another walk-in. Don’t wait for me. But yes, Francis is doing a story. I told him to contact you. Hope that’s okay?
He nearly smiled at her long missive. Only Holly would text something so long. He flipped back over to the email and opened the attachment.
Answer any/all questions you’d like.
Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek. Some of these would be pretty easy. He’d known Holly since med school, so for over a decade now. He almost couldn’t believe it had been so long. Time had gone so slow while they were in school, but it had flown by in the years since. He started writing.
Question 1: What is it like working with Dr. Whitacre?
Answer: I don’t usually work side by side with Holly, but I know her staff is very loyal and talk about her in positive ways. Her students vie to get internships with her—and she somehow manages to get as many of them in as requested, which is a special kind of magic the rest of us haven’t figured out how to do yet—and gets to know each of their names and details about their lives.
Okay, this was coming easy enough. It was kind of fun, actually, writing about Holly. Maybe this was how she felt when she was saying all of those nice things about him for her show.
Question 2: What qualities does Dr. Whitacre have that would help us understand who she is and why she does what she does?
Answer: Holly has a big heart, which is going to sound cliché, since we’re talking about a cardiologist who runs a MyHeartChannel show all about love. Sometimes as doctors, we can become jaded—seeing patients minute after minute, year after year, all with some complaint or another—and there’s a certain level of compassion fatigue that can set in if you’re not careful and vigilant. Holly is careful and vigilant. She continues to show as much compassion for her first patient of the day as she does for her twentieth patient. She remembers her patients, and she follows up with them when possible. I’ve known a lot of doctors in my career, but I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone so suited to the job as Holly.
He paused at the next question: Have you watched her MyHeartChannel show? What does the hospital think of it? What do you think of it?
At this, he laughed. Did Francis really want to know what he thought of it? He debated what to say for a moment and finally wrote, The hospital staff, as I’ve mentioned earlier, are her biggest fans. They love the show. I personally have watched every episode—and I’ve even been on an episode—and while I don’t one hundred percent agree with the premise that everyone gets one great love story in their lives, I do envy Holly’s certainty. Her passion is almost enough to persuade even a coldhearted cynic like me that a love like she describes—a love like she had with her late husband Dallon—is actually possible.
The fact is, Holly’s show isn’t just for people who believe in love; it’s for people who hope it might be real.
Question 4: I know a little of her past with her husband. Is there any insight you could add—i.e., how she handled the healing process, how the show has helped her, etc.
At this, he paused. He wouldn’t say anything to undermine the trust Holly had put in him, but it was impossible to tell the story of Holly, the story of One Great Love Story, without talking about Dallon.
Answer: Holly and Dallon met our second year of law school. They bumped into each other—literally bumped into each other—at the library, and both of their books and papers went flying. By the time everything was cleaned up and organized, they were inseparable. Everyone was envious of them—you have to understand how busy med school was. Only Holly and Dallon could find the time to fall in love and have the kind of personalities to make it work with the pressure we were all under.
Dallon and I met our first year of med school and became roommates by our second year. I don’t think anyone else could put up with my crap, but Dallon actually seemed to like me. I got to watch up close as they fell deeply in love, got engaged, and then married. They were the real thing. I tried to find something like what they had—tried and failed—and realized something special like their love probably wasn’t meant for everyone.
When Dallon died, it devastated us both, and I think this show became a lifeline for her. A way to remember the lov
e she’d experienced and lost. There’s no one great love story without Dallon—both the love he had for Holly, and his very tragic, untimely death. She handled the healing process in the same way she handles everything—with great aplomb, grace, and the kind of strength most people only dream of having someday.
He finished and reread through what he’d written, stopping to correct a few autocorrect errors. He usually didn’t type so much on his phone, but he hadn’t thought he’d write so much, or else he would have pulled out his laptop.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us about Dr. Whitacre?
He didn’t have to think this time before he wrote it, and really, it was almost redundant to write, because it had come through in every word he’d written so far:
Answer: Holly Whitacre is the most incredible woman I’ve ever known.
Holly walked toward her office after her final exam of the day and waved to a teary family at the front making a follow-up appointment.
“Dr. Shay is in your office,” her assistant said, clearly annoyed. “I told him to wait in the lobby.”
Holly waved away her concern. “I’ll take care of it.”
Clinic days were the most grueling, where she rarely got a minute to sit, much less think. She knew she should turn away walk-ins. Their policy didn’t accept walk-ins. None of the other doctors did either. Holly always said today would be the day she wouldn’t take them, but her receptionist had stopped believing her a long time ago.
Her last case had been the most difficult. Telling a family that you’d done everything you could, but without a heart transplant, they wouldn’t live much longer, was an impossible conversation. He was on the waiting list for one, but she’d learned over the years that some people got one and some people didn’t, and someone had to die for the heart to be available in the first place, so it made it impossible to hope for one.
This job was hard sometimes.
She walked into her office to find Jack sitting in her chair, his familiar head bent over his phone. “Comfortable?”
Jack set his phone down and put his hands behind his head. “Actually, yes.”
“You seriously annoyed my assistant, you know.”
“One of the few pleasures I get from my monochromatic life.”
“That and sitting in my chair.”
“It’s the most comfortable chair in the entire clinic.”
She smiled in acknowledgment. She didn’t want to admit how much she’d spent on it, but it was worth every penny. “Are you here to see me or sit in my chair?”
“Can’t I do both?”
“Jack,” she admonished, checking her watch. He’d texted her over an hour ago to say he was in the lobby. “I told you not to wait.”
“Since when do I do what other people tell me?” He stood, and she let him take her laptop bag from her. Usually, she had something to say about being able to carry her own things, but today, she didn’t have the energy for it. “Tough case?” he asked.
“Right at the end.” She circled her neck with her hands to press on the back of her neck. “Sometimes I wonder why I do this job.” But she couldn’t imagine her life without it. Jack somehow managed to take off his doctor’s hat and leave it at the office, but she’d always struggled to compartmentalize, and after a tough day, it often took her at least the drive home to try to put worry in a box far from her thoughts.
They walked outside into the cold night air. Snow clung to the trees, and it crunched under their feet as they headed toward the parking lot. They didn’t have a covered garage at the free clinic, so their cars were buried under snow.
The minor annoyance of snow shoveling fell to the background of rethinking through how she’d delivered the bad news to her last family. Had she been informative enough? Compassionate? Were there any resources she’d failed to mention?
Jack grabbed her arm to pull her to a stop. “Look! Mistletoe.”
“What?” Her thoughts resurfaced from the exam room to the moment she was in. She looked up at the expansive night sky, blinking in confusion. “There’s no mistletoe.”
“But would you have kissed me if there was?”
She knew he was teasing her to get her mind off of her patients, but all of those screenshots and emails came flooding back into her mind, and her face turned hot under his stare. She rolled her eyes and tried to think of what Holly, pre-email frenzy, would have said. “Of course.”
His eyebrows flew up in surprise.
Wait. That was probably not what she would have said. “I mean—on the cheek. You know. Like friends.” What in the world was wrong with her?
He took her arm gently and pulled her to a stop, concern written all over his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m in a weird headspace tonight,” she admitted.
They arrived at her car, and he put her laptop on the passenger seat and got her scraper out at the same time. “Want me to come over?”
“No!” she said a little too vehemently. His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m so tired. The patients today, and the emails, you know? I think I’ll turn in early.” She slid into her car, and he came around to shut it for her.
“Is the party too much, Holly? I shouldn’t have asked you to do it.” Clumps of snow fell from her windshield before he started to scrape at the ice on the glass.
She shook her head. “It was my idea, Jack. I’m planning on delegating most of it to my staff for a big Christmas bonus.”
Jack paused. “That’s kind of brilliant. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
She tried to picture him sitting at a conference table with a notebook, brainstorming party theme ideas with his staff. The image did not compute.
He finished with her windshield and threw the tool into the back seat. “I’ll let you get your sleep.”
She turned on her car and got the defroster going while she watched Jack walk to his car. He turned and caught her looking. She waved guiltily and put her car into drive to pull out of the parking lot.
She needed to set up a date for Jack for tomorrow night so things could go back to normal as soon as possible.
Chapter 14
“Why did I agree to this again?” Jack asked when Holly slipped into the passenger’s seat of his car, the soft strains of “Away in a Manger” playing in the air and following in her wake. Snow dusted the shoulders of her jacket. He didn’t know if it had stopped snowing for more than a moment here and there since Thanksgiving.
“Because deep down you actually believe in true love.”
He shook his head. “Try again.”
“Because you are an amazing friend and stepped in when I needed you.”
“Correct.”
“Thank you, Jack. It’s already my most-viewed episode, and all of my other episode views have jumped quite a bit.”
He backed out of her driveway. As much as he wished he hadn’t gotten roped into this, he was glad she was at least reaping some sort of benefit from it. Although from the dark circles under her eyes, some of her enthusiasm for this was forced.
Were her thoughts still on her patient at the clinic? She hadn’t given him details, but he knew she always carried extra weight after delivering bad news. Or perhaps it was the season itself, the reminders this time of year brought.
“Dallon used to love that song,” he murmured.
“‘Away in a Manger’?” she said, confirming she’d heard it as well. “Have you seen the choir always singing in town square?”
“Yeah. I took Shiloh down here last week, and we heard them.”
“Dallon would have joined them in a heartbeat.”
“Definitely. And he would’ve kept trying to convince us to join.”
Holly laughed. Neither of them were great singers, which always disappointed Dallon. More than once he’d tried to get them to join in song with him, with varying levels of disastrous results. Holly could at least carry a tune, while Jack had never had much interest in music other than what happened to be playing on the r
adio.
“Remember when we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Shiloh … what was that, three years ago?” Jack asked.
Holly nodded, a small smile appearing, easing some of the exhausted lines on her face. “For some reason, Dallon thought it was a good idea to harmonize, and we both lost the tune, and it ended with Dallon singing alone.”
“Then Shiloh burst into tears because we’d ruined the whole song.”
“Dallon always had more confidence in our singing than was warranted.” Holly sighed and relaxed a little more into the seat. “I’ll admit I was relieved there was something you were bad at.”
“There are plenty of things I’m bad at,” Jack said, surprised.
Holly looked at him with one lifted eyebrow. “There are some things you’re less good at, which I only learned after getting to know you better. Back then, all I knew was that you were the very best at everything we did. It was exhausting trying to keep up with you.”
Jack laughed incredulously. “You are remembering our history wrong. You were the one who was so good at everything; I was constantly working to hang with you. Why do you think I tried so hard all the time?”
Holly shook her head. “That is not true.”
“I’m still running to keep up, Holly.” He paused. “Although it’s a huge relief you can’t sing either. Levels the playing field a little. It gave us one thing we didn’t have to compete at.”
“Oh my goodness. It’s kind of true.”
“The real question is, how in the world did Dallon put up with us?”
“He loved us,” Holly said simply. Her phrase filled the car with the peace of a warm blanket while Jack drove them to the outdoor skating rink.
Jack settled into the comfortable silence until they pulled into the parking lot for this date he wanted to do less than ever. What he wouldn’t do to blow this whole thing off and have dinner with Holly in a nice, warm restaurant. But she was already getting out of the car, and there was nothing to do about it but follow her.
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