A Home for Christmas

by Deborah Grace Staley

  “Don't feel sorry for me, Blake.”

  He held up a hand and gave her space. She crossed her arms and glared at him. He'd clearly touched a nerve.

  “So, you chose to be a doctor because . . . ”

  “I wanted to make a difference. Do something worthwhile with my life.”

  “And now that you've attained that goal?”

  “I keep accomplishing that goal, every day, by doing what I do.”

  “It must be hard. Never having time for yourself.”

  “It's part of the job. You know it going in.”

  “Doesn't make it any easier.”

  Janice frowned. “Doesn't make what any easier?”

  “Giving up your personal life.”

  “When the work is important and fulfilling, you don't mind.”

  She had such an earnest expression on her face, he knew she believed in what she did. He rubbed a finger along his chin. “Is that all you want out of life, Janice?” he asked quietly.

  Her laugh sounded harsh. “Don't tell me you're one of those men who believes a woman can't possibly be fulfilled unless she has a home and children.”

  “Seems like having only a career could get pretty lonely.”

  “Maybe that's all I need.”

  “Everyone needs to be loved.”

  She stood and moved toward the fireplace, her hands in her back pockets. “Most men can't deal with the kind of work I do. They expect me to do things like drop everything, and say, oh I don't know, go for a drive with them?” She leveled him a pointed look. “Having relationships is a little difficult when most men just don't get it.”

  He moved to the edge of his seat, resting his arms on his thighs. He needed to weigh his words carefully. “Relationships involve give and take.”

  “Right. And the woman does all the giving.”

  “Is that how it's been for you? Dating guys who expect you to put them first?”

  She turned, leaned back against the mantle, and crossed her arms. “Is this where you tell me you're not that kind of guy? If it is, don't bother. You've already tipped your hand. Several times.”

  He stood then and approached her. “What do you mean?”

  “Friday night when I had to go to the hospital, you were less than thrilled. And tonight, you weren't happy that I wouldn't leave with you.”

  “I wouldn't be upset if it were an emergency. But in both cases, you didn't have to be there. The other night, you weren't on call, and tonight, you're making excuses to stay. Maybe you're avoiding getting too close to me because you're afraid of getting hurt.”

  “That's ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “I think you should go.”

  She took a step toward the door, but Blake reached out and snagged her arm, stalling her retreat.

  She stared at his hand on her arm. “Let go of me.”

  He dropped his hand immediately. He'd pushed hard, but he'd needed to know what she wanted out of a relationship or if she even wanted one. Her answer had been pretty emphatic.

  She surprised him by taking a step toward him. “I'll tell you what you want to know, Blake. My job is my life. Anyone I become involved with will have to understand that my work always comes first. It has to, because I deal in life and death situations.”

  He took a chance and reached out to her then. He caressed her face with a thumb at her cheek, his fingers threaded in her silky hair. “Your patients are fortunate. They benefit from your dedication and caring nature.” He placed his other hand so he could frame her face. “But what about you? You deserve to be cared for, too.”

  She squeezed his forearm and closed her eyes against the emotions filling them. “When I find the man who gets it, I'll have it all. Until then, I have my work.”

  She opened her eyes and stepped back, away from his touch. “Goodnight, Blake.”

  She left the room, the kitten trailing after her. There it was. She expected any man she became involved with to be on the sidelines, waiting for her to find time for him. For a man who felt he'd been on the sidelines most of his life, he was selfish enough to want to be the focus of someone's life. Seems like he'd always been in somebody's shadow. His brother's. Hell, even his baby sister's life was more high profile than his.

  The only things he could call his own were his business and his home. The business, well, it pretty well ran itself. He'd hired great people who saw to that. And his home stood empty at the corner of Ridge and Angel Avenue. Even the kitten wouldn't stay there with him.

  He moved toward the door, grabbing his coat off the rack and shrugged into it before stepping out into the cold, dark winter night. He turned up the collar as he walked down the steps to the sidewalk.

  Maybe Janice was right. Maybe he did have impossible standards no woman could meet. Maybe he was doomed to be alone forever.

  Monday afternoon, Janice was about to climb the walls. Her uncle had taken Susan to Knoxville for tests. Susan had agreed after Patrick convinced her she should explore these new treatment options Janice had told him about. Susan hadn't been able to say no when he'd pleaded with her, saying if there was any way to keep her with him and the kids a bit longer, they deserved all the time they could get.

  So, Janice had arranged for her to see Jeremy Mears, her colleague and the finest oncologist in the area. Uncle Charles had instructed Janice to “hold down the fort” with an assurance that Nurse Mable would show her the ropes. The rope showing had taken all of ten minutes. Instructions not to mess up her neat, orderly storage system took somewhat longer.

  So far, the highlight of the day had been when Mable had left for lunch at eleven thirty and returned promptly an hour later. Her sleepless night wasn't helping matters. She'd like to blame it on the nap she'd taken, but her mind racing from the exchange she'd had with Blake was the more likely culprit. At one, Janice had had enough.

  “Mable?”

  “Yes, Doctor?”

  “I think I'll walk into town.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Janice jotted her cell phone number down on a sticky note and handed it to the older lady. “You can reach me at this number if you need me.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Nothing like stimulating conversation to warm you on a cold winter's day.

  The sun played hide and seek with white fluffy clouds. Janice tucked her hands in her pockets and tried to enjoy being outdoors. A typical Monday for her involved early rounds at the hospital, seeing patients at the office, updating charts, then back to the hospital for more rounds before getting home late and falling into bed. She felt so useless here. Like she was wasting time when she should be busy caring for people who needed her. She hated feeling useless.

  She stopped at the sidewalk and looked both ways. Not a soul in sight. Shrugging, she turned toward town feeling unsettled and out of sorts.

  She didn't pass anyone along the way. When she got to town, she knew why. Main Street was buzzing with activity. People milling around, moving from shop to shop. Some window shopping, others hurrying inside to take care of their Christmas lists.

  Christmas. She should think about doing her shopping. That would be using her time wisely. Even though she didn't spend the holidays with her mother and father, they went through the motions of shipping presents to each other. A formality to make their bizarre relationship seem familial. And since she'd be spending the holiday with Uncle Charles, she should get him something. She chewed on her lower lip. She'd enjoy watching him open a gift from her.

  “Afternoon, miss.”

  A man in a police officer's uniform tipped his hat.

  “Good afternoon,” she checked his nametag, “Officer Harris.”

  “It's Constable. Constable Henry Harris. Don't believe I've seen you 'round here before.”

  “I'm Dr. Janice Thornton. Dr. Prescott's niece.”

  “You don't say? Well, I'll be. A lady doc. Pretty as a picture too. Welcome to Angel Ridge. If you need anything at all, you just let me know. I'm
here in town most everyday.”

  She couldn't imagine what she'd need him for, but said, “Thank you,” anyway.

  “Nice meetin' you, miss—um, Doctor.” He tipped his hat again.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  The cordial man moved away from her, and Janice continued down the sidewalk. She surveyed Town Square, noting the nearby hardware store. Surely they'd have something there her uncle would like for Christmas. Maybe some fishing supplies.

  She moved in that direction, but the display in Heart's Desire caught her attention. She could get her mother something there. The thought lightened Janice's mood and she laughed. She'd likely be appalled since she wore nothing that wasn't designer. Maybe they'd have some cheap perfume.

  “Pardon me miss, but I heard you laughing. You mind sharin' what's got you so tickled?”

  Janice turned to find another man in uniform standing before her. This one was tall, young, and very handsome. He had a wide, easy smile that formed crinkles at the corners of his hazel eyes, suggesting one came easily to him. Reddish-brown hair curled over the collar of his tan uniform. No necktie for this officer.

  “I don't mean to intrude, but I could use a good laugh. It's been a slow day.”

  “I can relate to that.”

  “I'm bein' rude.” He removed his hat and held out a hand to her. “Sheriff Grady Wallace.”

  She put her hand in his. “Janice Thornton.” She decided to get into the casual atmosphere of the town and leave the “Dr.” off.

  “Well, it's a real pleasure. What brings you to Angel Ridge?”

  “I'm visiting my uncle, Dr. Prescott.”

  “Of course.” He rocked back on his heels, hands on his hips. “He's told me plenty about you over the years. You're a doctor, too.”

  “Yes.” For some reason the fact that her uncle had told this stranger about her made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to this kind of attention. She lived her life quietly and on her own terms.

  He nodded. “Your uncle and me, we share a fishin' bank from time to time. Well, I'll be. It sure is nice to meet you. What's Doc up to today?”

  “He took a patient into town to see a specialist.”

  His pleasant expression turned serious. “Not Susan Houston, was it? I heard she collapsed yesterday. It's real sad about her. Real sad.”

  “I can't really say.” In fact, she'd probably said too much. She'd have to remember this was a small town and that everyone knew everything about everybody. But she definitely agreed with the sheriff. She hoped her colleague could recommend a course of treatment that would help Susan.

  “I understand. Patient confidentiality and all.” He looped his thumbs in his belt loops and assumed a relaxed stance. “So, did you come into town for lunch? Dixie's got fried chicken on for the special down at Ferguson's.”

  “Actually, I thought I'd do a little Christmas shopping.”

  A voice laced with static interrupted. “Grady, you copy?”

  “Excuse me.” The sheriff spoke into a walkie-talkie he removed from a leather pouch on his belt. “Yeah, Clara. What do you have?”

  “Your mama stopped by and said something about a problem out at her place. I had a hard time getting the right of it. She wanted to talk to you, and when I told her you were out, she started talkin' in circles. You know how she can be.”

  “Yeah, Clara. I'll run by there.”

  “Ten-four.”

  The sheriff returned the walkie-talkie to its leather holster. A wry smile pulled the corner of his mouth up. “Duty calls.” He held out his hand. “Pleasure meetin' you, Janice. If you need anything at all, give a holler. Just dial the Sheriff's Department and Clara will find me.”

  There it was again. Was there something about her that screamed she'd need help? And from police officers, no less. Janice shook the man's proffered hand. “Thank you.”

  He replaced his black, western style hat and walked down the sidewalk away from her. She checked her watch. Maybe she should get back to the office. What if there was an emergency? Would Mable call her?

  Sheez. She hated being indecisive. It was so unlike her. Janice turned back to the shops in front of her. Curiosity got the better of her. She'd just run in Heart's Desire and then head back.

  A jingling bell announced her arrival. Someone called from the back, “Be with you in a sec.”

  Janice looked around. The shop was large and consisted of several rooms. The front contained the window display, a glass case filled with mouth-watering chocolates and another larger cooler held floral arrangements.

  The strong aroma of perm solution wrinkled her nose. A door to the right had a sign over it that read Naughty. The doorway across from it, Nice.

  A petite woman in four-inch heels hurried toward her, drying her hands on a white towel. She had olive coloring and straight, waist-length, jet-black hair and the most amazing eyes. Violet.

  “Hi. I'm Candi. Candi Heart.”

  Her accent was decidedly slow and southern. Janice shook the woman's hand. “Candi Heart?”

  “What can I say? My mother had a sense of humor.”

  “Janice Thornton.”

  “Welcome to Heart's Desire.”

  The woman's outfit was as unusual as her name. She wore a one-piece, red mini-dress with white fur at the neckline and wrists. On closer observation, Janice noticed that the tall heels were actually black ankle boots. Dark hose and a wide black belt completed the look. The only thing missing was a Santa hat.

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I'm looking for a Christmas gift for my mother.”

  “What'd you have in mind?”

  “I'm not sure. Maybe perfume.”

  “Okay, since it's for your mother, you should definitely see what I have in the Nice Boutique.” Janice followed Candi down the hall. She tipped her head toward the Naughty Boutique. “Everything in there's designed to drive a man wild. Not an image most folks want when shopping for their parents.”

  Janice laughed. “My parents are rarely in the same room.”

  “Not even for Christmas?”

  “No.”

  “Divorced?”

  “No, just not your typical family.”

  “That's too bad.” She moved behind a display case that had several perfume selections sitting on top. “So, tell me about your mom.”

  “Mother is very sophisticated. A snob, if you will. She drips designer everything.”

  The lovely woman nodded. “How about this?”

  Janice smelled the perfume Candi handed her. Soft, clean, subtle, floral. Very classy. “Mmm. What is that? Rose?”

  “It's rose with a hint of lavender.”

  “It's lovely. The bottle is exquisite.” The container was an intricately cut, blue crystal atomizer.

  “I make all of the scents myself. The bottles are antique.”

  “I'll take it. Thank you. It's perfect.” Her mother might actually like it. She enjoyed the unusual.

  “Wonderful. Now what can we do for you?”

  “Me? Oh, I'm not shopping for myself.”

  “All the more reason to indulge.” Candi set the perfume in a velvet-lined silver foil box, then pulled out a festive gift bag filled with tissue. “Do you have a dress for the dance?”

  Janice frowned. “Dance?”

  “Of course. The Snow Ball is this Saturday. Why, everyone will be there.”

  “I'm new in town. I hadn't heard.”

  “It's the social event of the holiday season. They hold it down at First Presbyterian's fellowship hall since the Baptists won't allow dancin' in theirs.” She took Janice's hand and led her out of the Nice Boutique. “You're in luck. I have just the dress for you.”

  They would have continued into the “Naughty Boutique,” but Janice put on the brakes. “Oh, no. I mean, I appreciate your assistance, but I'm sure I won't be attending.”

  “You're Doc Prescott's niece, right?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Dixie Fergu
son was in this morning. She tells me you've been seein' her brother, Blake.”

  Janice was shocked. She was not at all accustomed to everyone knowing her business. “Well, I wouldn't say that.”

  “If he hasn't gotten around to asking you, I'm sure he will. And even if he doesn't, your uncle will expect you to go with him and Miss Estelee.”

  “I don't know.”

  “Just have a look. No harm in that.”

  Janice passed through the purple beads separating them from the Naughty Boutique. Inside, there was everything imaginable. Perfumes. Lingerie. All types of seductive clothing. A display of massage oils and, Janice frowned just before her eyes widened, edible underwear. Candi just smiled.

  “A little something for everyone. Here it is.”

  She pulled a dress from the rack that was, in a word, incredible. The softest cinnamon-colored sweater material fell in folds to the floor. It was a wrap-style dress, but all around the hem and up the front and neck, the material gathered to form a gentle, feminine ruffle. But why was it in the Naughty Boutique? It didn't loot at all naughty.

  Janice held the long sleeve up to her cheek and sighed. “Is this cashmere?”

  “The finest.”

  “It's beautiful.”

  “Try it on.”

  “Oh, I couldn't.”

  “It won't hurt anything to try it on, now. Oh—” Something at her belt began beeping. “That's my perm. I need to rinse her. Be right back.” She handed Janice the dress. “Try it on, honey. There's matchin' shoes on top of that rack.”

  Janice bit her lip. She held the dress up to herself and looked in the full-length mirror. The material was so soft. She couldn't help wonder what it would feel like next to her skin. Oh, why not. She had nothing else to do. Like Candi said, no harm in trying it on. She stepped into the dressing room and pulled the curtain.

  Wearing nothing but her bra and panties, Janice eased her arms into the dress. The material flowed over her like a second skin, hugging her figure, molding to every dip and curve. She wrapped the belt and secured it at her waist. The neckline plunged below her bra, leaving it visible. She tried to adjust it, but the dress had a mind of its own. She chewed on her lower lip then thought, what the heck. She wriggled out of the bra.