Sandcastles Under the Christmas Moon (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 9)

by McKeehan, Vickie

  Sydney noticed her agitation and thought it was because she’d be seeing a new doctor for the first time. “Don’t worry. Dr. Blackwood knows what he’s doing.”

  “It isn’t that.” The younger woman lowered her voice. “It’s…kind of embarrassing.”

  Sydney lifted a brow. “Do tell.”

  “Dr. Blackwood’s so young and hot. I expect my doctor to look like Doc Prescott, you know. Gray-haired, older. But Dr. Blackwood is so…good-looking and nothing like Doc at all. He’s quite the hunk.”

  Sydney found that funny. “No argument there.”

  “Don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

  “I’m sworn to secrecy. Where’s Troy? You remember Troy, your husband,” Sydney teased.

  “He said he’d meet me here. He and Zach have been working on the hospital. Do you realize if they finish it by March I’ll get to deliver there?”

  “That’d be so exciting.”

  Troy rushed in without knocking, out of breath. “Whew, I made it. I thought for sure I’d be late.” He looked at his wife, bent down to give her a kiss. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.” Bree giggled at the knock on the door. “That must be Dr. Blackwood.”

  Out in the hallway, Quentin called out, “Are we decent?”

  “You ready?” Sydney asked, sending Bree a hopeful look.

  “I think so,” Bree said as she held on tight to the white sheet that covered her from chin to toe.

  “You can come in now,” Sydney said.

  Quentin introduced himself to Bree, shook hands with Troy, and sat down on a stool beside the exam table. He read over Bree’s chart but when he looked up he noticed something else. “There’s no need to be nervous.”

  Bree started giggling again and sent a furtive look toward Sydney.

  Quentin caught the exchange and turned to Troy. “Women. They hold their secrets close to the vest, don’t they?”

  “Tell me about it,” Troy muttered. “Bree forgot to tell me about the appointment until this morning.”

  Quentin patted Bree’s hand. “How about I start off asking you some questions to break the ice? Are you still having morning sickness?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You’re now eleven weeks along so that’s pretty normal. Jack indicated you’ve already heard the baby’s heartbeat. Is that right?”

  “We have,” Troy replied. “But we wanted to hear it again.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ve already got the nursery painted,” Bree revealed for no reason.

  Quentin smiled. “Mint green if memory serves.”

  Troy uttered a laugh. “No, that went by the wayside real fast.”

  Bree batted his shoulder. “We changed it to a pale, creamy yellow and painted the ceiling a soft blue. I’m having Lilly Pierce paint a mural on one wall. Is it too early for all that? I don’t want to jinx anything.”

  “I think you’re fine. I see Sydney already has the ultrasound machine set up in here. We’re doing your second one today that should tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “Doesn’t matter to us. We just want a healthy baby.”

  “Then let’s see what you’re cooking in there.” Quentin turned on the machine and set the dials. He lifted the sheet, and without pressing too hard, moved the wand over Bree’s stomach. After a few minutes, he grinned. “Well, look at that. I’d say you’re going to have yourself a little girl.”

  “Oh my God!” Bree exclaimed. “That is so cool.”

  “Everything looks normal, baby looks fine.”

  Troy let out a nervous breath. “Thank God.”

  Quentin and Sydney exchanged knowing glances but it was Quentin who added, “Nothing like the joy of new parents.”

  At San Sebastian Middle School, Beckham was having a good day. Since he no longer went hungry at lunch, he was more alert in his afternoon classes. During his last period math class, it was even more commonplace now for him to raise his hand and deliver the correct solution to a complicated equation than to sit there and not. Even the teacher noticed the change in him, his appearance and his attention span.

  Beckham attributed some of his good fortune to the amulet he wore around his neck. His medicine bag did indeed make him feel powerful and smart.

  Sitting at his desk, waiting for the bell to ring, he could see the buses pulling up at the curb outside through the bank of classroom windows. The weather had turned nasty. It had started to rain, which meant he wouldn’t be working at the tree lot today. He tried not to get discouraged because it would mean less money in his paycheck. But Caleb had already warned him that no one bought a tree in the pouring rain. So it wouldn’t do any good to worry about it.

  The bell put an end to his thoughts. He dashed down the crowded hallway, dodging people who had stopped to talk. He needed to swing by his locker to dump his books. He exchanged his math book for his science workbook and stuffed more reading material for homework down in his backpack and took off toward the side door.

  Once he got outside he had to stand in line to board the bus. Standing at the tail end of the line, he looked over to see Kyle bearing down on him. He wished the line would move faster because Kyle was getting closer with each step.

  Beckham tried to make himself smaller, but remembered that never worked. When Kyle got within five feet, Beckham took hold of his amulet and closed his eyes tight. As soon as he felt Kyle’s hand latch on to his backpack, Beckham elbowed Kyle in the ribs as hard as he could. The jab knocked Kyle back a step but just made him madder.

  Kyle grabbed him from behind, screaming at him while delivering several punches to the back of his head. “You little shit, you got me in all kinds of trouble at home. Because of you we had to get an attorney. I’m gonna teach you a lesson once and for all not to open your big mouth.”

  But then something strange happened. Kyle went sailing through the air, ten feet off the ground. The kid landed on top of the garbage bins overflowing with a week’s worth of trash. The look on Kyle’s face was disbelief.

  The other students looked on in wonderment. A few patted Beckham on the back. “Way to go, Beck!”

  Faye came running up to him. “Wow. You smacked Kyle hard enough to send him flying, right in front of everybody. Wow.”

  “I barely laid a hand on him,” Beckham maintained.

  Faye patted his shoulder. “Well, somebody did. It’s about time, too. Will I see you tonight at the tree lighting ceremony?”

  “Sure. I guess.”

  “Great. What kind of ornament are you bringing?”

  Beckham’s mind wasn’t on decorations but what had happened with Kyle. He couldn’t explain how the guy had flown straight up in the air. One minute he’d been about to take another beating, and the next, ugly-faced Kyle had been spread-eagled on top of the garbage from lunch. It defied logic.

  His mind continued to play out several scenarios while he and Faye found seats together on the bus.

  Faye wanted to talk…but not about Kyle. She persisted in going over everything she knew about the tree lighting ceremony in Phillips Park. “I hope they don’t cancel it because of the rain. So tell me what you’re bringing.”

  “It’s a surprise,” Beckham answered in an absent manner.

  “Oh cool. Even better. I used my mother’s old embroidery hoop to make this lattice design with two different colors of ribbon and…”

  He let Faye chatter on about something she was obviously proud of doing by herself. But in truth, Beckham didn’t hear any of it. His mind was still racing, trying to figure out how he’d tell Quentin and Sydney that Kyle had ended up face down in a pile of leftover taco meat and beans.

  By the time he reached the clinic, Beckham was still revving with the news. He grabbed Buckley around the neck for a hug and blurted out the string of events leading up to the end game. “You should’ve seen Kyle’s face. He was all red and mad and…he was coming at me to pummel my face again. Then…wham!”

  “He was
probably shocked that you defended yourself,” Sydney finished.

  “But that’s just it, I jabbed him in the ribs but not hard enough to send him sailing through the air. I swear. Kyle flew up in the air without me hitting him or anything, all by himself. It was like…a miracle or something.”

  That conversation he’d had with Scott popped into Quentin’s head. It made his mouth curve up. “How far did the guy travel?”

  “Probably twenty feet before he landed on top of the trash cans and knocked them all over.”

  “Where he belongs, no doubt, on the trash heap,” Sydney added.

  Beckham segued from the scene with Kyle to Faye’s invite. “Do you suppose I could buy an ornament for the tree lighting ceremony tonight? They sell stuff at the nursery, all kinds of plastic icicles in different colors. Faye asked me what I was bringing. I choked. I said it was a surprise but the only ornament I ever made was out of an apple and cloves when I was in the second grade. I’m not making that again. I’d look lame and stupid.”

  Sydney and Quentin traded amused glances. “It just so happens I’ve been hard at work making a few decorations for the tree lighting ceremony myself.”

  She opened her desk drawer and took out a glittering cornucopia made from a paper cone. She’d spray painted the body a shiny gold, used matching ribbon for a hanger, and filled the inside with red and green foiled chocolate kisses and wrapped truffles on top.

  “Man, that is so cool. Why don’t you have this hanging up somewhere?” Beckham looked around for the best place to display her work. “It could go over here near the wall. Nope, it doesn’t work there. It would look better if it could hang on a tree.”

  “Ask Mr. Scrooge here why he doesn’t want a little garland and tinsel hung up,” Sydney noted with a glare aimed at Quentin. “Let alone something as big as a tree.”

  “Come on, Doc, you gotta let us put up a tree in here,” Beckham pleaded. “Without decorations this place is totally lame. I mean, there’s no red or green anywhere. We don’t even have a Christmas wreath on the door. You need to take down the one from Thanksgiving. This place should be lit up in red and green.”

  “Okay, I admit I’ve been a tad overbearing about it.”

  “A tad?” Sydney said. “No, I think Scrooge is more fitting.”

  “Fine. If you still want to, decorate your hearts out. I don’t care.”

  Beckham whooped. “Then let’s get a tree in here. It’s gotta be at least six feet tall though, a Fraser would do. We could stand it up in the corner. If you show me how to make a few more of those cornucopias, I could hang one on the town tree and give one to Faye for hers and then make one for the tree we get in here.”

  “We could make a Santa hat out of another cone. Wrap some red felt around the body and add a row of white fur around the rim,” Sydney suggested, getting caught up in the idea. “That would look cute. We can also take plain balls and glue beads and ribbon around them to make them stand out. We don’t have to buy anything from the nursery. We can make our own.”

  “Faye would like that. She loves making her own. Do we have all the stuff we need to do that here? Now? Cause I want to meet Faye tonight with a fantastic ornament that blows her away.”

  “If not, we can go to my house after work. I have a craft room.”

  Beckham rubbed his hands together. “Cool. Let’s get to work. We’ll see what we can make here before we head to your house.”

  Quentin met Sydney’s eyes and mouthed the words. “Nice work.”

  But as he headed down the hallway and back to his office, he was humming Jingle Bells.

  Sydney’s craft room was an out of the way nook off her kitchen and behind the utility room. Baskets, containers, and jars on one wall helped organize ribbons, paint, yarn, beads, and remnants of fabric left over from the curtains she’d made the previous spring.

  Once she and Beckham got started creating things from her knickknack collection, they couldn’t seem to stop. Sitting at a small table across from each other, head down focused on their respective projects, they dressed up plain Styrofoam balls using a glue gun and patches of fabric, lacy ribbon, and even silver-studded thumbtacks. They coated small, old-fashioned bulbs in glitter, strung thin cord through the base for a hanger. They cut out cardboard in animal shapes and glued Christmas wrapping paper and foil to the front and back to make them look classy. They put wood backing on cookie cutters and frosted the inside with paint.

  Two hours later they’d designed two dozen ornaments.

  “Should I let Faye pick which one she likes best?”

  “Um, no, you should do it. Just remember some of these are for inside trees only. The one you pick for Faye could fall into that delicate category. The one for the tree in the park needs to be something that will hold up in the weather, like the cookie cutter in the shape of a snowman, much sturdier.”

  “Good point. But I’m still not sure which one I should give to Faye.”

  “Go glam with the silver studded ball, or go for cutesy, even frilly. That way you can’t lose. Whatever you decide, we’ll put it in a little box. Presentation is everything.”

  He chose the red foil reindeer, dipped in glitter, with a little white ribbon around its neck.

  “Good choice.”

  “Let’s hurry and wrap it up. I don’t want to be late getting there.”

  The rain had stopped by the time they made their way to the park. People were milling about waiting for Mayor Murphy to kick things off by flipping the switch to light the tree. It had taken a crew of five—Ryder, Zach, Troy, Andy, and Wally Pierce—two days to drape the two thousand golden-colored lights around the branches from top to bottom. It had taken them another day to hang the two hundred oversized red ornaments that dangled off the tips.

  This year, the honor of placing the huge gold star at the top of the tree went to Gavin Kendall, the caretaker out at Taggert Farms, who’d settled his family into the caretaker’s cottage a short two years earlier.

  By the time Beckham reached the tree, Gavin had already used the ladder set up to climb to the top.

  The ladder stayed put just in case anyone wanted to hang their ornament higher than at the base. Brent got the job of supervising the ascent, making sure no one fell and it was a safe landing coming back down.

  The carolers were out, dressed in hoop skirts and bonnets, waistcoats, cravats, and top hats. Thanks to Cora Bigelow, the singers looked as though they’d just stepped out of the pages of a Dickens book.

  Mr. and Mrs. Claus arrived down at the wharf via Eastlyn’s chopper and then made the trip down Beach Street, sitting atop a horse-drawn sleigh. They pulled up on the north side of the park waving to the crowd of kids.

  Bran and Joy aka Santa and Mrs. Claus handed out candy canes on their way to the gazebo where another line, this time parents, waited to have the kids’ pictures taken.

  Beckham spotted Faye working her way across the park. “Hey, I wasn’t sure you’d show because of the rain.”

  “Oh no, I wouldn’t miss this. This is the best thing that happens around here. I like it even better than the Fourth of July parade.” Faye turned in a circle. “Just look at all the people. It’s like a carnival atmosphere without the Ferris wheel. Look over there, Margie and Max from the Hilltop Diner are giving away hot chocolate and homemade apple cookies.” She held up her ornament, the one she’d made from the embroidery hoop. “And I want to climb the ladder and put mine as far up at the top as I can reach.”

  Faye stopped talking when she saw the box Beckham held. “What’s that?”

  “I made you something for your tree.” He fumbled the handoff as he pushed the little box into her hand. “Open it.”

  “But did you bring one for the tree tonight?”

  Beckham held up the other one he’d brought. “It’s just a spray-painted cookie cutter in the shape of a star with a bunch of glitter. See?”

  “I like it. Are you sure it’s okay to open mine now?”

  “Sure. It’s fo
r your tree at home.”

  Clumsily, Faye tore open the wrapping paper. As soon as her eyes landed on the reindeer, she sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful. You made this?”

  “Sydney sort of helped me.”

  Faye put her arms around him in a hug.

  They broke apart when the carolers got close and started their rousing chorus of Deck the Halls, slowly gathering around the tree.

  Murphy threw the switch on the lights and applause broke out, as did oohs and ahhs from the crowd. A line formed to add an ornament to the tree. When it came their turn, Beckham helped Faye get her lattice design as close to the top as he could reach. Next to it, he hung his cookie cutter star.

  Sydney watched the two teens and got a brief glimpse of her own teenage years. It made her feel warm inside to go back to such an innocent time in her life. While she waited in line next to Hayden to get Nate’s picture taken on Santa’s lap, she couldn’t help but notice the change in Beckham. The boy had come a long way out of his shell since the first day she’d met him.

  Hayden followed the track of her sister’s eyes. “I saw you walk up with him.”

  “We spent the afternoon making Christmas ornaments and had the best time together. He’s such a good person.”

  “Really? You’re changing, big sister.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m seeing a side of you I’ve never seen before.”

  “If you plan to give me another lecture against helping that boy, I’m out of here.”

  “I’m not. But taking on a teenager is a big job, a lot of responsibility.”

  “Stop it.” Sydney said, temper building. She turned to go, but Hayden grabbed her arm.

  “Forget I said anything. Stay. Please. At least you know the pitfalls of dating a doctor. You came into this thing eyes wide open.”

  Sydney whirled on her sister. “I’m tired of you bringing that up all the time. You know, I’m not some doofus who’s fumbled her way through life simply by choosing the wrong men. They didn’t treat me very well so I moved on because I deserved better. Is that so unthinkable? At least I actually care about people. It’s why I got into nursing. I admit taking on Beckham isn’t something I’d choose to do under normal circumstances. But Beckham is a wonderful boy. He’s kind and caring. I’ve never seen a kid that age so devoted to his grandmother. That says a lot about who he is. He’s had a hard life, Hayden. He lost his father when he was only seven years old. We lost ours at fifteen and it still devastated us. Why can’t you see that boy is in a precarious situation right now? He’s about to lose his grandmother and may even end up in the foster care system despite Quentin’s promise that he won’t. I don’t understand how you can be so callous.”