Christmas Melody: a romance for the holidays

by Alyssa Jefferson

  “She just learned about strangers. She’s not supposed to talk to you—mother’s orders.” Eliza had taken a safety class offered by her neighborhood watch group, and now the kids were adorably well-versed in safety best practices. “Anyway, thanks for the ice.”

  “Anytime. Listen, I feel bad about this. I should have made it clear to you that you shouldn’t run, and I know how it is when you want to do a race—you’ll do anything you can to get out there and run.”

  Mitch must really love running. Mel didn’t exactly feel that way, but part of her liked the idea of being thought of as a serious runner, so she nodded.

  “I was distracted when you came by the office,” he continued, “which is really inexcusable during an exam. I want to try to make it up to you.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t have any surgeries scheduled tomorrow, but I know my staff is available, and if they aren’t, the hospital always has people on call. Really, we just need an OR.”

  “An OR?”

  “An operating room.” Mitch rose to his feet. “I’m going to put a couple calls in, see if we can’t get you in tomorrow for your surgery. This way, your whole family will be here, and you’ll be on the road to recovery that much sooner.”

  “Um…okay,” Mel said, surprised and trying to process. Did tomorrow work for her? The studio was closed until Monday, but then she would need to be there and get things ready for the holidays. They expected a real influx of customers in January, but things weren’t exactly busy now. It would probably work out.

  Mitch paused on his way down the hall. “Does that work? To do the surgery tomorrow? It’s arthoscopic, so it’s an outpatient procedure; you could go home right after.”

  It was like he’d read her mind. “Yeah, it should work, if it isn’t too much trouble for your staff.”

  “It isn’t,” he said. “Let me just see what I can do.”

  He wandered away, and Mel was left to her own thoughts again. Singing to Mitch had kind of taken a back burner, because now it seemed like she’d have plenty of time to do it. Maybe even while she was woozy after the surgery—although, being with-it enough to remember to sing might prove to be tricky…. Mel sighed. Wouldn’t it be nice, just one Christmas, to be able to be the person whose dreams came true herself? What if she just sang to herself, and it made her business really take off, and her life feel like it had a direction, and all the friends she’d had over the years who’d moved away would come back?

  She sighed. If she was honest with herself, none of those things would happen. The deepest desire of her heart would happen—she would finally fall in love with a guy who loved her back. A guy who was worth it. Not like her stupid ex.

  Mel glanced around. She was alone in the room, and she could hear lots of echoing voices downstairs. It seemed the kids had convinced their parents to bring everybody downstairs to watch football. Mitch was in the guest bathroom making a phone call. Nobody was around to hear except for her. So she sang “White Christmas,” her favorite carol.

  Mel sang softly, gazing out her front picture window as she did. She hummed a verse when it was done, for good measure. But she might as well have stayed quiet. Her song was over, and nothing felt different. Her knee still throbbed, the cold air still wafted through her thin walls, and she was still alone.

  Chapter 3

  Mitch was able to schedule Mel for surgery Friday at 1 p.m., and her mom drove her over. It was just as quick as Dr. Westicott had said it would be. They took more X-rays first to make sure everything looked okay before surgery, and then they gave Mel some pain medicine and went to work. They just numbed locally, and Mel was totally awake and aware of everything the doctor was doing. She reverted to calling him “doctor” in the OR—it just didn’t feel right to call your surgeon by his first name. But when he checked on her in the recovery room, he corrected her.

  “Hey, call me Mitch,” he said with a smile, jiggling her good foot slightly after she greeted him by his title.

  “Sorry,” she said. And then, to her dismay, she let out a small giggle. She couldn’t help it. He was always good looking, but there was something about seeing him dressed for surgery, wearing blue scrubs that hugged every muscle in his body. Mel immediately regretted that she had giggled, but Mitch hadn’t seemed to mind.

  “No worries,” he said. “So that went great. About as great as can be expected. The tear was pretty long when all is said and done, but it was easy to clean up and repair.”

  The way he talked about surgery made Mel laugh; he had called it “a little surgery” to her mother. That cocky quality normally bothered her, but in him it was cute.

  Whoa. What was in this pain medicine? Mel reminded herself that she wasn’t getting to know Mitch for herself; she was doing it for him, to sing him a carol and grant his wish. Having a crush on him would be selfish, not to mention self-defeating and ultimately doomed when she sang to him and he got back together with Ashleigh. Whatever attraction she felt, she just had to get a grip on it.

  Annie waited at the hospital during the surgery, and apparently at some point Francy also came by, because they were both there when Mel was finally wheeled out of the recovery room. Mitch walked her out and gave her family instructions for after care, and Mel was mortified to hear her mother say, “Well, I don’t know how she’ll make it the next two weeks after we all go our separate ways. She lives all alone, you know.”

  Mitch nodded. “We recommend somebody help her out for two weeks, at least, but that’s something you all will need to figure out. I’m sure you’ll be able to work out a schedule.” He glanced at his watch.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Annie said, and Mitch excused himself with one last smile for Mel and walked back down the corridor.

  “Easy, Mom,” Mel said after he’d gone. “It’s not like he tore my ACL with his bare hands.”

  “What?” Annie said, all the animosity suddenly totally gone from her voice. “I know that, dear. What makes you say that?”

  Francy laughed. “Uh…how about the way you attacked Mel’s sexy doctor boyfriend back there?”

  Mel, being pushed in a wheelchair by her mother, spun her head around rapidly side to side. “Sheesh! Don’t let him hear you. And for the last time, please stop calling him my boyfriend. As you both love to remind me, I don’t have one.”

  Francy rubbed her belly, now finally beginning to pop out—maybe it was the Thanksgiving dinner that did it. “Stop playing a martyr. Just spill the beans already, Mel. We can all tell that you’re together.”

  “We’re not together!” Mel exclaimed. It was beginning to be genuinely stressful. What had she ever done to make them think she would lie about this? “You saw that he’s my doctor.”

  “Your doctor who fit you in for surgery on a day’s notice,” her mother pointed out.

  “And came to meet your family for Thanksgiving,” Francy added.

  “It wasn’t to meet—” Mel sighed and tried to calm down. “He came because he was alone, because his ex and his son were away, so I invited him. Anyway, I’ll probably never see him again after today.” As Mel said this, she realized she’d failed to sing to him. She’d been so preoccupied by her stupid crush that it never crossed her mind.

  “What, won’t you have a follow-up appointment?” Annie asked. Her tone was more cautious now. Something in Mel’s answer must have convinced her, and Francy, to stop teasing.

  Oh, yes—that was right. She would see him again. Mel felt so relieved, it was like a warm breeze washed over her body. That was odd. But, then again, it was probably her gift, reminding her to sing to the man who wanted nothing more than his family reunited for Christmas. At least now, she would have one more opportunity to make somebody happy, even if it couldn’t be herself.

  The family stayed the weekend, and except for the children, were all incredibly helpful. Liz and Francy ran to the studio to finish up the holiday decorating Mel would now be unable to complete. Adam and Brent carried up the TV and som
e DVDs from the basement, and Mom filled the freezer and refrigerator with meals for her to thaw and eat while she was on the mend. Meanwhile, her dad made himself useful by doing all kinds of handiwork around her house. He insulated the doors and windows for winter, replaced any lightbulbs that had burnt out and been neglected, and hung the shelves Mel had meant for years to put up on her living room walls.

  It was wonderful, and Mel was genuinely sorry when it was over. Having a full house had been such a relief, and not only because she was truly useless on her own following her surgery. Mel was a social person, and while she spent plenty of time with Subha and her family, her home life was pretty solitary. It had been great not to be all alone.

  Sunday evening, Liz and her family were last to leave. The kids were both crying because they’d had so many goodbyes all day, and they were so attached to their grandparents, aunts, and uncle that by the time they had to say goodbye to Mel, it was more than their little hearts could take.

  To make them feel better, Mel had crocheted yarn animal toys for both of them. She had spent all weekend working on a fox for Riley and a bear for Caleb. When the kids crawled onto her bed for hugs, she passed along the gifts and got to enjoy their total transformation from despondency to joy. Bouncing their new toys, the kids hustled out of the room, followed closely by Adam, who called over his shoulder his thanks for her hospitality.

  Liz approached her bedside and sighed. “I hate leaving you like this,” she said.

  “I’m fine,” Mel said. “Really. I have crutches I can use to get around, and I’m feeling better every day.”

  “Are you sure nobody from work can come by?”

  “They can stop by, just not stay. They have their own lives, you know.”

  Liz frowned. “I’m your family. I should really stay.”

  “I don’t need you to stay. Honestly, Liz, I feel better already. When the knee was torn, I really couldn’t get around. But now? Nothing to worry about. The doctor even said it would be fine,” she bluffed.

  “Did he really? So if I call him, he’ll say you are totally fine to stay on your own?”

  “Um…yes.”

  “Okay. Great. I’ll give him a call.”

  Mel wasn’t afraid. It was a Sunday, and by tomorrow, Liz would totally forget. And anyway, she’d be back in Minneapolis, so it wouldn’t matter. “You do that,” Mel said, and made a face.

  Liz laughed and gave her a hug, and they said their goodbyes. From where Mel was laid up in bed, she could hear the little voices and chaotic hustle and bustle that gradually quieted and eventually ended with a slam of the front door and revving car engine. The quiet bloomed up from the street and yard, surrounded her house, expanded through every room and hallway, and eventually landed on her. She was alone.

  A knock on the door roused Mel from a dream. It was Monday night, and she had fallen asleep after making an exhausting attempt to reach the kitchen and heat up some food. Her sister had been right; she was in no shape to take care of herself. After spending most of the day lounging in bed and occasionally hobbling to the bathroom, she’d realized she couldn’t subsist on just the grapes and carrot sticks she had in her room. Hunger drove her as far as the couch in the living room, before fatigue overtook hunger as her primary need.

  The knocking continued, and Mel called out, “Coming!” as she limped toward the door. She had given up on the crutches somewhere between her bedroom and here, as they were just too hard to work. But without them, some stretches of floor seemed impossible to cross.

  When Mel finally reached the door, a full five minutes later and with a rumbling stomach, she was surprised to see Mitch.

  “Hey, there,” he said.

  “Hi! Um. What are you doing here?” She cringed. Wasn’t there any less rude way of saying that?

  “I got a call from your sister Liz,” he said. “She let me know you were here by yourself, and you convinced her that I said you didn’t need any help.” As he spoke, Mitch reached for Mel’s elbow and helped ease her onto his shoulder, where her weight would be off her bad knee.

  Even though Mitch had touched her before—carried her across her living room floor, in fact—this was different. It electrified her, making her skin stand to attention and her heart jump, pounding, into her throat. “Oh. Yeah, I did that,” she said confusedly. “I didn’t know doctors still made house calls.”

  He laughed and said, “We don’t. At least, orthopedic surgeons don’t. But you invited me for Thanksgiving, so I figured that makes us friends. And I can’t leave my friend all alone to recover from a major knee injury.”

  Mel looked down so he wouldn’t see her blushing as Mitch helped her hobble back into the house. “I’m not all alone,” she said. “Subha is going to stop by after she puts the kids to bed, and Amos came this morning and dropped off coffee.”

  “Subha and Amos?”

  “My co-workers. My friends,” she corrected herself. Never was Mel so certain that her co-workers were her friends as she was when she was in a crisis. Subha had called three times over the weekend, and she insisted on coming by today even though she had two-year-old twins at home. Amos was also so concerned when he’d heard about her surgery this morning that he had taken his break early to bring her coffee and check on her.

  “I’m glad you have friends to stop by, but you need somebody who can actually help with everything. At least for the first week, and ideally the first two.”

  She sighed. “That just isn’t possible. Nobody can take off work for that long. If we’d waited until Christmas, maybe.”

  Mitch must have gotten tired of watching Mel hobble. Suddenly he said, “Wait,” and lifted her into his arms again. She put her arm around his shoulder and felt the muscles there, looking at the side of his face with intent interest. He was so handsome, and she wondered whether his son was his spitting image. Suddenly she felt envious, which she seldom did when she thought of children. Good lord, was that biological clock everybody kept telling her about finally going to start ticking?

  Mitch placed Mel on the couch and said, “I couldn’t have done it if we’d waited. I’m taking December off.”

  “Really? The whole month?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I had a lot of days saved up for time off that I hadn’t used, and I didn’t schedule any surgeries after December 1st. I’ll be on call at the hospital my usual days, but even those, I took a couple days off.”

  “Nice,” she said, reaching for a pillow to prop up under her knee. As she did, Mitch looked thoughtful. He was quiet for a couple of minutes.

  Then, he said, “Hey, you know, I won’t be busy. I can stick around and help out around here.”

  “What? No, that’s crazy. I don’t need that much help.”

  “As a medical professional with a great deal of experience in this area, I can confirm that you do.”

  Smartass. Mel shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that; it’s too much! I don’t want to burden you with that.”

  “It isn’t a burden; I told you, I’m…well, I’m glad for the company this time of year. It’s not what I’m used to, being alone.”

  He said it stoically enough, but Mel knew it was a source of pain for him. That’s right, Mel remembered. He was going through a break-up. He probably wanted company as much as she did. And then, she remembered her gift. It would be way easier to sing to him—and to learn more about his deepest wish—if he stayed with her for a little while.

  “Well…that’s really nice of you. Amazingly nice.”

  He smiled, and that cocky look almost made her roll her eyes. “I’m an amazingly nice guy,” he said.

  An amazingly nice guy who is terrible at flirting. Mel guessed he was probably out of practice, but there was really no need to flirt with her. She was supposed to help him get back together with somebody else, after all. “Okay,” she said. “While we’re on the topic of doing amazingly nice things, I was halfway to the kitchen when you rang the doorbell.” Only a partial lie, she thought.
/>   “Oh! Are you hungry?” Mitch stood up. “Do you need me to cook something?”

  “My mom left food, but I need it heated up.”

  “Okay, I can do that. What is it?” he asked on his way out the door.

  Mel frowned and shook her head. “There’s a whole bunch of food. I don’t care; pick anything. Pick something you want to share, and we can both have some.”

  “Got it.” A few minutes passed. Then, “How were you going to get this into the oven when you can’t even stand up straight?”

  “I thought I’d balance on one leg like a flamingo.”

  “Cute,” he said. Mel fought back a smile. He was just a flirty person; that much was not at all surprising, and probably to be expected from somebody so damn handsome.

  Mitch stayed until 8 o’clock, when Subha arrived. She’d brought wine and an aviation magazine, which was one of Mel’s low-key favorite things to read. Airplanes were fascinating to her—their history, their design, the physics behind them. Something about them felt miraculous—that people could fly, and that there was a way for one small person to travel so far, so fast. Subha was so thoughtful, to bring her something like that. Mel had never appreciated her enough, she realized. Just because her young family kept her busy didn’t mean she wasn’t a good friend; Mel should try harder to remember that.

  Mitch, meanwhile, left for the night, but told Mel that he’d be by tomorrow after work—and that he would bring a suitcase and move in for the rest of the week. It was the least he could do, he said, after it was his lack of advice that had caused her to run in the race.

  Mel was feeling pretty excited about the whole situation with Mitch, pleasantly happy to forget all about his ex and his son, when Subha innocently mentioned that he might be doing all of this to avoid a lawsuit.

  “You know, you could sue him for malpractice. From how you described it, he barely even examined you the first time you saw him.”