A Christmas Miracle for the Doctor

by Victoria James

Bella came to join her, helping place some of the books people had left out back on the shelves neatly. “One of the things I like best about being a grown up is that you get to do what you want. I’ve learned not to care so much about what everyone thinks I should do. As long as I’m not hurting anyone else, why can’t I do what I want?”

  Bella shrugged and continued to slowly walk around the tree, carefully touching an ornament here and there. “I guess that makes sense. It’s like eating dessert for dinner.”

  “Right.”

  “Or not taking a shower.”

  Hmm. This might be going in a direction she’d get in trouble for. “Well…”

  “Or not having to chew with your mouth closed.”

  Time to change the subject. “I’m going to decorate the window next week. Would you like to help?”

  Her sweet face lit up like the tree she was standing beside. “Will you tell Daddy?”

  Addie nodded and looked at her watch. “I think he’ll be here any minute. I’ll ask him then.”

  Bella went to stand by the door, looking through the glass. “It’s snowing!”

  Addie smiled as she admired the plump, white snowflakes falling from the dark sky. “See? Isn’t it good we have the tree up?”

  Bella giggled. “You’re right. I’m going to tell Daddy we need to hurry and get our tree up. There he is!” she said, jumping up and down as she pointed to the shiny black Audi pulling into the empty parking spot outside her store. Addie was happy to see her smiling again.

  Addie’s heart skipped a few beats, a reaction she now learned was typical whenever she saw Drew Barret. He was someone she hadn’t really figured out, not that they’d known each other long. He and Bella had moved to Shadow Creek a few months ago. She knew from her sisters, who were also doctors at the same hospital, that he was a renowned surgeon and that he’d been living in Chicago. His head was bent, and he was no doubt checking his phone for a minute before he came out.

  He walked up to the shop, and she knew by how he was dressed whether or not he had spent the day consulting with patients in his office at the hospital or if he had been in the OR all day. Today he was wearing dark pants, a blue button-down shirt, and a navy wool coat; he had been consulting with patients. When it was a surgery day, he’d walk in looking less put together—but nonetheless very handsome. Maybe even more handsome because he looked less polished, more relatable, more human. Since the first moment she’d met him, she’d detected an underlying sadness about him; it had endeared him more to her.

  She was used to her little fantasies; she was comfortable there. Pursuing real people, real men, just brought up bad memories. This was the season for giving, and she was going to help her little friend have the best Christmas ever.

  …

  Drew Barrett parked his SUV outside the little bookshop where he was scheduled to pick up his daughter. Her obsession with this place had saved him since the after-school babysitter had decided to quit. He needed to find a replacement quickly. Back in Chicago he’d never had to worry about childcare. Jill made sure their daughter had the best nanny, and life had seemed pretty uncomplicated, until it had all blown up in his face.

  He stared out his windshield and paused for a moment as the sight in front of him triggered a memory from his childhood; he’d walked downtown Shadow Creek as a child. He’d held his mother’s hand; he’d made wishes, believed in miracles, whispered prayers. Now, at thirty-five, he didn’t believe in a damn one of those things.

  Snow fell in random tufts, and white lights intertwined with fresh spruce hung from the window frames of the small shops. His gaze rested on the animated display in the toy store window. Shadow Creek had always been idyllic, and whenever his mother would make the drive in from the country, he’d always wish there might be enough money to buy something from the Jack and Jill toy shop. There hadn’t ever been enough, though, but that hadn’t stopped him from pausing in the window to admire the working train set. He’d even written a letter to Santa telling him about the set; he’d actually thought that maybe it would happen. But it never did. He’d never been able to understand why Santa gave the rich kids big gifts and the poor kids’ small gifts. He’d decided at the age of eight, when he’d found out the truth, that he was going to be rich. Being rich would solve all the things adults argued about. Of course, now that he was an adult, and divorced, he knew that it wasn’t that simple.

  He slipped his phone in his coat pocket and got out of his car, knowing he was right on time picking up his daughter. He didn’t know what to do with her every night when they got home. He had come back to Shadow Creek because it had been the last place he remembered feeling like life could hold bigger meaning than the one he’d been living. It was the last place he remembered knowing people who cared more about their family than their social circles. It was the last place he had seen his parents alive. While his childhood hadn’t been filled with material wealth, it had been filled with love.

  Drew paused for a moment, despite the cold night air and the snow, to look through the window of the bookstore. His daughter was smiling up at the bookstore owner, Addie Mayberry. It wasn’t so much the fact that she was smiling; it was the way she was smiling. It was a smile he’d never seen until now. He looked at the woman who was on the receiving end of that uncommon smile, and just like the first time he’d met her, a jolt of awareness hit him. Women were not on his radar right now. In fact, he’d promised himself he was done with women. He had no use for marriage anymore or any kind of real relationship that would put his daughter at risk of having her heart broken again. He wouldn’t introduce a woman to her; he wouldn’t put her through any of that. He was back because he needed to drastically change his life—for his daughter’s sake. Shadow Creek was the place to do it. He needed to find a nanny for his daughter because he was now a single parent, and then he needed to somehow rehabilitate his relationship with Bella.

  Lusting after the bookstore owner was not practical. Luckily for him, he had learned how to finely hone his concentration, and he could control his thoughts with mastermind precision.

  He rolled his shoulders and pulled the door open. His daughter ran up to him, and he was filled with gratitude, just like every night when she ran up to him, that she had given him another chance. Things weren’t perfect yet, but he’d felt the shift. He was earning her trust again. “Hi, Bella,” he said, forcing himself to look like he was a doting father, when in reality he was an absentee father who was now trying to do the right thing.

  “Hi, Daddy. I’ll get my bag,” she said, all but dragging her feet to the back of the store.

  “Hi, Addie,” he said, walking further into the empty store.

  Addie shot him the smile he’d come to expect; it was filled with genuine warmth and happiness. While he didn’t know her well, he knew she’d somehow managed to earn his daughter’s infatuation. Bella had begged to stay here for story time instead of doing groceries with him. He’d relented because she’d been on the verge of tears, and he didn’t know what to do with tears except throw money at them, and that was something he was changing.

  “Hi, how are you doing?” she asked, walking around the small store, placing books back on the shelves. Addie had a way of talking that made a person feel like she was genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say and wasn’t asking out of politeness.

  “Good. Thanks for keeping Bella here,” he said, noticing the way her smile made her blue eyes seem brighter.

  “She’s not a problem at all. I love the company.” She looked over her shoulder and then walked closer to him. “Bella mentioned something about needing a new babysitter. Not that I’d want to interfere, but she seemed quite upset by that.”

  He looked away from the concern in her eyes for a moment, his gaze lingering for a second on the display in the window. He could see why his daughter loved it in here—there was a magical vibe to the place, and despite having given Bella every material thing, he and her mother had never been able to evoke any
kind of magic. They hadn’t been around enough to accomplish that. He cleared his throat and looked back at the beautiful woman who’d opened her store and heart to his daughter. “Thanks. I know you’re not interfering. I, uh, I have no choice. There’s no backup here with family or anything, and I need to work.” He worked way less at the Shadow Creek hospital, but without a nanny around, there were still gaps in his schedule where he’d need someone around for Bella.

  She crossed her arms, and he noticed her sweater had tiny Christmas trees embroidered on it. That almost made him smile. Jill would have probably shot herself if she’d had to wear it. Somehow it didn’t seem tacky on Addie. “Well,” she said, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “Do you know what days you’d need someone to watch Bella?”

  He put his hands in his pockets. “My schedule is erratic. I’ve tried to ask for as much of a regular one as possible because of Bella. Most weeks I need someone for the after school until I can pick her up, which would be between five and six unless there’s an emergency. Then I’m in the ER once a month on the weekend. I do have emergency calls that happen, and that’s where I need someone I can call on the spur of the moment. Do you know someone?”

  She shrugged and tilted her head to the side. He had the inexplicable urge to reach out and touch the strands of glossy, dark hair that had come loose from her messy bun. “Maybe I can help out.”

  He was taken aback. Why would she do that? “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “Yessssss!” his daughter yelled, barreling between them. “Yes! Please let Addie be my babysitter.”

  He looked down at Bella, who was now clinging to him, wondering when the last time he’d seen her this animated. He’d realized how little he knew of his daughter. But he knew enough to know that he’d failed her. And he had never felt like a failure until that day.

  He looked at Addie, who was smiling at Bella. “Are you sure? You’ve got a business. How would you be able to watch her?”

  Addie shrugged. “If Bella doesn’t mind spending a lot of time in here, then it would be fine. I can run out to pick her up after school; it’s just down the street. I’ll put a ‘Be Back in Fifteen Minutes’ sign on the door. Then Bella can keep me company until you pick her up. My apartment is upstairs, so when you get called in, it’s not that big of a deal.”

  Bella clasped her hands together. “Pleeeeease, Daddy.”

  He had no idea why Addie would want to do this, but she looked genuine. He worked with her sisters at the hospital, and he knew she was well known and liked in town. “Maybe we can discuss compensation through text,” he said with a pointed glance to his daughter.

  Addie waved a hand. “No worries. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Really, it’ll be like having a little friend around every day.”

  He patted the top of Bella’s head. “Okay, well, Bella, looks like you have a new sitter.”

  Bella squealed and tackled Addie, who looked completely comfortable accepting his daughter’s affection. Addie laughed and smiled and hugged her back, and he stood there, feeling like an outsider. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Text me all the details about school pick up and that kind of thing. I guess you’ll have to send in a note to her teacher about me picking up. Anything else?”

  “Right,” he said, making a mental note to speak with the school. They exchanged numbers, and Addie helped bundle Bella up with her scarf, mittens, hat, and coat. He didn’t take it personally that his daughter was asking a woman she’d met a few weeks ago to help over her own father.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Bella,” Addie said with a wink and smile.

  “I can’t wait!” Bella said, jumping to the door.

  “Thanks again,” Drew said to Addie, who was standing by the door. He tried not to notice how beautiful her smile was or how she smelled like some kind of delicious spring flower that he couldn’t quite place.

  “No problem,” she said, moving aside so they could walk through. The winter air greeted him, and as he followed Bella, who was still choosing jumping instead of walking to their car, he tried to shake off his unwanted interest in the beautiful bookstore owner. As he rounded the corner to his side of the car after making sure Bella was buckled in, he glanced back at the bookstore. The lights were now off, but he caught a glimpse of Addie as she walked toward the back.

  “This is the best day of my life,” Bella said as he pulled out of the parking spot.

  He focused on what she was saying, pushing aside his thoughts about Addie. “It is?”

  “Yes! I love Addie. I’m so happy she’s going to babysit me. We’re going to have so much fun.”

  Drew kept his eyes on the dark country roads as he listened to his daughter’s animated voice. He and Jill hadn’t managed to give her a better day than this one? “Well, I’m glad you’re happy and that we worked this all out,” he said, shooting her a smile in the rearview. She nodded and looked out her window.

  The rest of the ride was in silence, which was more their style. Once they arrived, he took Bella’s backpack, and she ran up the snow-covered walkway to their small ranch house—his childhood home. He unlocked the front door and turned on the lights. They took off their coats, and Bella made a beeline for the couch and remote while he walked into the small kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon, okay?” he called out, opening the fridge.

  “Sure, Daddy,” she said, and he could already hear the sound of some television show on the Disney Channel.

  He stared at the contents of the fridge and cursed one of the biggest limitations of rural living—the lack of takeout options. In the city, he would have ordered dinner on their way home. In Shadow Creek, the only viable option for delivery was Luigi’s Pizza, and God knows he’d taken advantage of that one too many times in the last month. He was bone tired from his hours at the hospital and mentally drained from figuring out how to be a dad and how to rebuild their lives. Even though Bella had been living with him full time this last year, it had taken him months and months to finalize work details and the move. Her nanny, Brenda, had stepped in back in Chicago, but here in Shadow Creek, he’d never felt more alone.

  Half an hour and half a beer later, he proudly set a chicken stir fry and rice on the table. Bella scrunched up her nose after taking a theatrical sniff of her plate. “Daddy, I don’t like this.”

  He looked from her disgusted expression to the impressive variety of green vegetables and wondered what the problem was. “You can’t say you don’t like something until you try it.”

  She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “I can.”

  He took a giant forkful and put it in his mouth and chewed. “It’s amazing. The best stir-fry I’ve ever had,” he said, taking a swig of his beer, basking in the damn fine meal he’d prepared.

  His daughter was having none of it. “Can’t we order pizza? I don’t eat broccoli.”

  He frowned. “We can’t keep ordering pizza. Since when don’t you eat broccoli?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Since the day I was born.”

  If she weren’t his child, and he wasn’t so tired, he might have laughed. “Well, eat the other stuff,” he said, pointing with his fork and then taking another healthy scoop of his own. Damn, that teriyaki glaze was amazing. Who knew he could be a talented cook and a talented surgeon?

  His daughter was looking at him as though she barely thought him competent enough to tie a shoe. She looked dispassionately at her plate. “I don’t even know what all of this is.”

  “Bok Choy, bean sprouts, shredded carrot, yellow peppers, and mushrooms.”

  When he said “mushrooms,” her hands went to her throat, and she made all sorts of choking and gagging sounds. “I’ll die.”

  It occurred to him that he actually had no clue what his daughter liked to eat besides junk. He and Jill were very healthy eaters. Their fridge had always been stocked with ingredients for freshly pressed juices and quick snacks…except he didn’t really remember eating at home. They rarely ate as a f
amily because they both worked long hours. Bella was usually given dinner by the nanny. “Okay, well how about you eat the rice?”

  She sighed and placed her palms flat on the table, on either side of her plate, and looked up at him. “But the vegetables touched the rice. I can’t eat it now.”

  He blinked, not knowing if this was for real or not. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded, flinging her hands in the air. “It’s all over.”

  He put down his fork and picked up his beer. Did kids not eat food that touched other food? He never remembered having an aversion to foods touching each other. “What do you like to eat for dinner?”

  “Pizza, chicken fingers and fries, mac ‘n cheese, you know, that kind of thing.”

  “Garbage,” he said flatly. Was this what their very expensive nanny had been feeding her for six years?

  She inhaled sharply. “No, it’s not. Mommy said it makes you fat, but I don’t care if I’m fat.”

  Hell. He shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again, choosing his words very carefully. “This has nothing to do with a person’s weight. I spoke to you about this. All I care about is how healthy you are. When we put good food in our bodies, we feel good. You don’t have to worry about your weight; that’s not something I want you thinking about. I just want you to eat good food. We’ll do a lesson on nutrition when I put away the groceries tonight.”

  She hadn’t heard a thing. “Can I go now?”

  He finished his beer. “Go where?”

  “Watch TV.”

  “But you haven’t eaten anything.”

  “That’s okay. Maybe I can have popcorn? That’s a vegetable.”

  He placed his beer down on the table, looking at her plate of unfinished food. How come he knew nothing about his daughter? He bet Jill didn’t know any of this, either. If they were on better terms, he’d text her and ask. He had naively thought he could assume the role of wise father when he’d been so absent. It wasn’t as simple as he thought. And of course, he’d hated when Jill would obsess about weight in front of Bella; he knew it wasn’t healthy, and he didn’t want her growing up obsessed with her appearance. “It’s not, and we don’t have any. How about I slice up an apple and you can have that? I bought some nice aged white cheddar from a local cheese maker at the grocery store tonight.”