Under The Mistletoe With John Doe

by Judy Duarte

Of course, there wasn’t a whole lot that could be done after the fact, other than pay the attorneys and…

  What? Make things go away?

  How would Rosa and her husband, Luis, feel about that? About the men their descendants had become-business execs, always looking at the bottom line?

  Never stopping to smell the roses?

  Before Jason could respond, Mike’s intercom buzzed.

  “What is it?” he asked his secretary.

  “Pedro Salas is on the line for Jason. Should I take his number and tell him Jason will call him back?”

  “Beautiful,” Mike said, brightening and flashing a we’re-in-luck smile at Jason before answering Miriam. “Don’t put him off. Patch him through.”

  “Wait.” Jason got to his feet. “I’d like to take that call in private.”

  Mike’s brow furrowed, clearly surprised by Jason’s response. “Why?”

  “I’d feel better talking to him without an audience.”

  Mike seemed to ponder that for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. Go ahead. I’ll tell Miriam to patch the call through to your desk.”

  Jason headed out the door and down the hall. When he reached the privacy of his office, he let himself in, closed the door and took a seat behind a large, polished mahogany desk.

  Only then did he answer the call. “Pedro, thanks for calling me. How’s it going?”

  “It’s okay. I heard you were in Brighton Valley, looking for me. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about a conversation you might have overheard between Cheryl Westlake and a couple of clerks from the mailroom.”

  Silence stretched across the line until Pedro asked, “What conversation are you talking about? They used to chat a lot whenever Cheryl came downstairs.”

  From what Jason understood, the woman had been recently promoted, but on her breaks, she would hang out with the clerks who used to work with her.

  “Cheryl was talking about a lawsuit against Mike and the company,” Jason told him, hoping to jar his memory. “She would have said something to them about sexual harassment.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember that. They didn’t know I was within hearing distance. Cheryl said she was going to bring your brother down a couple of notches by pressing charges against him.”

  “What did she claim he did?”

  “She said that he was a big flirt and that he came on to every woman between the ages of eighteen and fifty. And that she knew several who’d slept with him, hoping for a promotion or extra perks. But your brother never came through with them. One gal even got pregnant, and supposedly, Mike paid for an abortion.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Hey, all I can tell you is what I heard. But Cheryl seemed to think that just making a claim was guaranteed a settlement. And she told her friends that Mike deserved it, that she was doing every woman who worked at Alvarez Industries a favor by forcing him to be more respectful to his female employees in the future.”

  Jason couldn’t decide if that was good news or not. If Pedro was telling the truth, Cheryl’s sexual harassment accusation wouldn’t hold up. But it was probably just a matter of time before a legitimate claim was filed. And in that case, Mike was headed for trouble. And so was the family.

  “Would you mind testifying to that?” Jason asked. “We can fly you to California for a deposition or the trial-if it goes that far.”

  “I really don’t want to leave Brighton Valley right now. I’m in a twelve-step program, and it seems to be working.”

  Jason was glad to hear that. He liked Pedro, and he hoped the guy would find a healthier way to deal with his pain and grief. Thank goodness he’d sought help.

  “For what it’s worth,” he told the man, “we’ve got those meetings here. And if you stay in the program, I’ll make sure that you get your job back at Alvarez Industries.”

  “That’s tempting.”

  “Give it some thought.”

  “I will, but I gotta tell you, Jason. It’s been really nice being back in Brighton Valley. Life is slower, the air is cleaner and people are more sincere. And to top that off, I’ve also met a nice lady at one of my meetings. It’s not like we’re dating or anything, but we’ve got a lot in common.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” The poor guy really deserved to find happiness.

  “You know,” Pedro said, “last night, while I was walking her to her car, we saw a falling star. She said, ‘Quick! Make a wish.’ And I did. I wished that I could start over again-that I could move past the grief I’ve been wallowing in for the past ten years and make a new life-in Brighton Valley.”

  Jason hoped that a change of location and a loving woman could help him change his life around.

  After getting Pedro’s number, Jason hung up the phone and returned to Mike’s office.

  “So what did he have to say?” Mike asked.

  “His testimony will help. He says Cheryl’s just in it for the money.”

  “Great. I’ll make it right for him. Tell him he can have his job back.”

  “At this point, he doesn’t want to come back.” Again, that sense of envy struck.

  Like Pedro, Jason had found something very appealing about Brighton Valley, but in his case, it went beyond ranches, horses and a more rural lifestyle. It had to do with the people he’d met, the people who’d offered a home and job to a stranger.

  People who accepted a man on faith and had treated him like family.

  “If he’s going to testify,” Mike said, “what’s in it for him?”

  “Maybe some people just want to do the right thing,” Jason said. Like Betsy. And Doc Graham.

  Jason raked his hand through his hair and added, “That’s the trouble with you, Mike. You’ve got a self-serving agenda, and it’s going to be your downfall.”

  Mike stiffened, as though Jason didn’t challenge him often. But all that was going to change.

  “That cocky, flirtatious nature of yours is going to get you in one heck of a fix someday,” Jason said. “And if you don’t change your ways and treat your employees with more respect, some woman is going to lay a claim like that on you, and it’s not going to be bogus.”

  “What’s got you on a high horse?”

  “I’m just calling it as I see it, Mike.”

  And that’s exactly what he was going to do from here on out. Life was too short to be unhappy and forced into a role that wasn’t of one’s own choosing.

  Three days later, it was all Betsy could do to keep her mind on her work rather than on her broken heart.

  When she moved out of the house she’d shared with her ex-husband, she’d had to deal with a rush of anger and resentment. But she hadn’t grieved for Doug’s loss. Not like she was grieving for Jason and what they might have had together.

  Focusing on her work and on her patients helped, but not when there was a lull in the E.R. On those occasions, she would leave the hospital and get away from people who might ask what was bothering her or why she seemed so sad.

  And today was no exception. While the E.R. faced another quiet spell and the waiting room was empty, she’d planned to go for a walk.

  But then she’d received an unexpected phone call and was forced to face the past, just as Jason had wanted her to.

  “I’ll meet you in the rose garden,” she’d said, deciding they would need privacy.

  But her feet moved slowly, as though a part of her wanted to be somewhere else-anywhere but here.

  As she turned the corner, she headed for the stark garden, eager to get the meeting over with. The bushes that had once been lush and full of blooms last spring were bare now, making the grounds look bleak and dreary.

  She wondered if coming out here had been a bad idea, especially because this was where she’d last seen Jason. It was a sad reminder of their final goodbye. But there weren’t too many places she could go and not risk running into someone.

  She spotted a slender, red-haired woman sitting alone on one of the conc
rete benches, her head bowed. Betsy almost turned around and let her have the place to herself until the woman looked up, and their gazes met.

  Betsy’s breath caught and she took a step back, thinking she’d just looked into the mirror.

  The woman placed a hand on her chest, as if she’d been taken aback by the resemblance, too. She looked ready to bolt, and Betsy could understand that. How often did one run into one’s mirror image?

  An almost eerie sensation settled over her as she realized she could be looking at her twin instead of her mother. Obviously the woman hadn’t been able to take no for an answer.

  Betsy had been tempted to return to the hospital and refuse to see her, but Jason’s words urged her on. Sometimes love and relationships deserve a second chance.

  So she put one foot in front of the other, just as she’d been doing to make it through each day after Jason left.

  Odd, she thought. The closer she got to the woman, the more of a resemblance she saw.

  She supposed she could be a perfect stranger, but the woman had zeroed in on her, too.

  “Carla?” Betsy asked, taking a gamble and calling the woman by name.

  She nodded as she got to her feet.

  “I’m Betsy Nielson.”

  “I know. I…” Her lips quivered. “I wasn’t stalking you. Honest. I had no intention of bothering you. I just…wanted to see you.” She bit down on her bottom lip.

  Betsy didn’t know what to say. Their unexpected meeting had certainly thrown her off stride. But now that they’d seen each other, now that they’d spoken, she couldn’t very well turn her away.

  “I can understand your curiosity,” Betsy said. “But I’m on duty, so I can’t promise that I won’t be called back inside.”

  “I’m not sure if you ever wondered about me, about why I had to give you up.”

  “Yes, but I want you to know that I had a happy childhood and wonderful parents. As far as I’m concerned, your placing me for adoption was a blessing to them, and I’m glad to be their daughter.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.” The wind kicked up, blowing a strand of her hair across her cheek, and she swatted it away. “I was a sixteen-year-old foster child when I gave birth to you, with no real family support. And your father was in the same boat. As much as I loved him and wanted to keep you, I knew I’d be sentencing us all to a life we’d never be able to break free of.”

  “I understand,” Betsy said, figuring the woman wanted her forgiveness. But there were no hard feelings. She was happy with the way things had turned out.

  “I was an honor student,” Carla added, “and a grade level ahead of the kids my own age. I was looking at a full-ride academic scholarship to Rice University, but having a baby would have meant giving it up and getting a job.”

  “You made a good decision,” Betsy said, assuming that’s why it had been so important to find the child she’d given up. “Did you graduate?”

  Carla smiled and her eyes misted over. “Yes, with honors. And I went on to get a master’s degree in biology. I work for a biotech firm in Houston.”

  So they didn’t just look alike. They had the same scientific aptitude and drive for success.

  Betsy took a sip of the coffee she still held. “I guess we have a lot in common. I went to med school at Baylor.”

  “I’m proud of you, even though I didn’t have anything to do with your achievements.”

  “You gave me to people who cheered me on every step of the way, so we were all winners.”

  A tear spilled over and slipped down Carla’s face, and she managed a smile with quivery lips.

  “So tell me,” Betsy said, “do I have any half brothers and sisters?”

  “Actually, I married Brad-your father. So you have full siblings, not half.”

  At that, Betsy felt her own eyes water. She’d never had any qualms about her childhood, about having parents who were older than the ones most of her friends had. She’d never really cared that she’d been adopted, although she’d been curious about the details. But she’d always wished that she had a brother or sister, that she hadn’t been an only child.

  “Brad and I really loved each other, but we wanted more for ourselves and our children than what we’d had. So we waited to get married until after we had our degrees and were established in our careers.” Carla reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I have pictures, if you’d like to see them.”

  Actually, Betsy was intrigued by the idea of having siblings and wanted to see them. “Please.”

  Carla reached into the photo slots and pulled out a picture of a fair-haired young man with a shy smile. “This is Kenny, your brother. He’s a junior at Texas A &M and a math major.”

  Betsy’s heart warmed as she searched for a family resemblance and found it around the eyes and mouth.

  “And this,” Carla said, as she pulled out a second picture, “is Kari, your sister. She’s a senior in high school and far more interested in her dance classes than in math or science. But she’s a good kid. And happy.”

  “I’d like to meet them,” Betsy said.

  Carla took a breath, as if needing to fortify herself before making a comment. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you or pray for you and the family that adopted you. I’m so glad to know those prayers were answered.”

  “Ten times over,” Betsy said. “My parents are wonderful people.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Carla said, “I’d really like to meet them sometime and tell them how happy I am that they took you in and gave you all the things your father and I couldn’t give you.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  At that point, Betsy’s pager went off, calling her back to the E.R.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to go now.”

  “Thanks for talking to me. Honestly, I would have abided by your wishes, but I just wanted to see you from a distance. And to make sure that you were happy.”

  “I am,” Betsy said, even though she was nursing a painfully broken heart. But she’d been happy before she met Jason, and she knew she’d be happy again someday.

  Before leaving, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to the woman who’d given birth to her. “We’ll have to get together later. After Christmas.”

  “That’s great. And for the record, this will be my best Christmas ever. I’ve got the gift I’ve wanted for the past thirty-two years.”

  Betsy smiled, then turned and walked away.

  She was glad that she’d been able to help Carla put the missing pieces of her life back together-even if she hadn’t been able to help Jason do the same with his.

  Still, with Christmas on the horizon and a new year coming around the bend, Betsy’s life was opening up for her in a way she hadn’t expected.

  She just wished Jason had been around to be a part of it.

  As usual, Betsy asked to work on Christmas Eve, something she volunteered to do each year so that the doctors with children could stay home with their families and enjoy the holiday.

  She’d even been open to taking the night shift, but Dr. Babbitt had suffered a gall-bladder attack yesterday and had been admitted to the hospital. So she’d taken his shift, leaving the night to Darryl Robertson.

  As it neared seven o’clock and the shifts were changing, Betsy was writing up orders in a patient’s chart.

  “Dr. Nielson?” one of the nurses asked.

  Betsy continued to write. “Yes?”

  “There’s a man named Jason Alvarez in the waiting room. He’s asking to talk to you.”

  She froze, then forced the pen to finish her thought. “Tell him I’m off at seven. I’ll meet him in the lobby.”

  “All right.”

  She paused long enough to tamp down her surprise, then she finished out her shift. When she was free to leave, she followed the corridors to the lobby, where she found Jason standing near the Christmas tree, his back
to her.

  “I didn’t expect you to return,” she said.

  He turned away from the tree, and her breath caught. She hadn’t remembered him being that handsome. And she couldn’t help noting that he was wearing jeans again. Had he not gone to California after all?

  “I needed to talk to you.” His expression was solemn and almost unreadable.

  She slowly closed the gap between them, yet kept a little distance, like that of acquaintances rather than friends.

  “I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he said. “In fact, I really didn’t like them ending at all.”

  Her lips parted and her heart thumped to life, but she held her tongue, protecting her thoughts, her feelings.

  “I realize there’s a lot about me that you don’t know, but I was wondering if we could start over from scratch. Maybe, if we dated, it would give you a chance to know the real me.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was asking, what he was saying.

  “You made it clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship,” he added, “and I’ll respect that, if you ask me to. But I’d like to see where this goes, and I’m hoping you feel that way, too.”

  “We live in two different states, Jason. I’m not sure how a relationship could possibly work.”

  He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and tossed her a crooked grin. “Actually, I just put a cash offer on Doc’s ranch, and he accepted the deal. Our attorneys are drawing up the papers as we speak.”

  He did what?

  And did that make him her landlord?

  Try as she might, she was still speechless.

  “I was pretty confused when I left Brighton Valley,” he added, “so I couldn’t make any promises then. But when I went home, things fell into place.”

  “And now what?”

  “Have you ever heard of Alvarez Industries?”

  She hadn’t and shook her head.

  “What about Abuelita Tamales, Salsa, Tortilla Chips, Mole…?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of those products.”

  “My great-grandmother was an incredible cook, and people in the community raved about her tamales. Her husband began to sell them to the neighbors and to his coworkers. And before long, their son began to market them, too, along with her salsa, mole and homemade tortillas. Before long, Alvarez Industries was born.”