Dr. Noah and the Sugar Plum Fairy (4 page)

He was so enjoying it anyway.

She pushed through the door and gifted him with her stunning one-dimple smile. He stood to greet her.

“Hi, Dr. Noah.”

“Hi, Jane.”

She set the drinks on the counter. “I brought you and Tina and whoever else is around some hot tea and cookies.”

“You brought me tea?”

“Yes. Mrs. Salmons said you’re not a big coffee drinker.”

“And cookies?”

“Yes, Dr. Noah.” She set Tina’s cup and various sweetener packets on a Christmas napkin she pulled from the bag. “Not just any cookies. My mother’s Christmas sugar cookies. Known far and wide as the best of the season.”

“Thank you?”

She frowned as if she didn’t know why he posed it as a question. He didn’t know why himself.

He felt Tina beside him though he wasn’t aware she’d come back to the front.

“Hey, Jane.”

“Hey, Tina. I brought some tea and cookies. Anyone else around?”

“Doc has an intern here somewhere. He’ll be thrilled. Thank you for thinking of us.”

“No problem. Dr. Noah, do you have a moment? I need to talk to you.”

The words jarred him from her hypnotic gaze. “I knew there was a catch.”

She handed him the two remaining cups. “Don’t be weird. Where can we talk?”

“This way,” he said and led her through the clinic door.

Noah nearly stumbled as he rounded the corner into his office. Was he out of his mind? If she was going to rip into him about her cat, he should have left her in the lobby. Worse yet, maybe she really wanted to
talk
. He didn’t like to talk. Especially small talk with people who rambled. It was bad enough he had to do it with clients. Now it was cute and clumsy little Jane, and she was about to have a steaming hot cup of tea in her hand. He could be injured.

He set the cups on his desk and clicked on his small lamp. “Have a seat.”

She dropped her things on the floor and immediately kicked off her shoes. “Hope you don’t mind. Those things were killing me. We had dress rehearsal at the ballet this evening, and I thought I had a pair of flats in my bag. I did not.”

He shrugged. “Make yourself at home. What part did you end up dancing?”

“I’m not dancing.”

“I thought when you said ‘we’ had dress rehearsal that you were dancing.”

“No. My job is to keep Melody sane. And my mother and I do whatever we can do to help out throughout the company. Madame Raveneaux loses her mind every year about this and spring recital time. It’s not pretty. We do what we can.”

She sat in his pet-free visitor chair and started rummaging in the bag. Out came the Christmas napkins, the plastic spoons, the sweetener packets and the cookies. She moved things out of the way as if she owned the place and made a neat pile between them.

He picked up a cookie in the shape of a stocking. “Best cookies ever?”

“Absolutely.”

Bridget came from the exam room next door to greet her.

“Hello, there,” Jane said and went completely ‘animal-lover’ over the dog. “He’s precious. What’s his name?”

“He’s a she. And I have no idea what her name is because she never told me. But I’ve been calling her Bridget and she keeps responding, so Bridget it is.”

“May I give her a cookie?”

“Not one of these best-ever human cookies.” He reached in his drawer. “Here. You can give her this. But make her work for it.”

As natural as fleas on a barn cat, Jane did all the right things. She caught the dog's attention. "Sit, Bridget, sit."

Bridget sat ’cause she was genius that way.

Jane handed over the cookie and then praised the dog with ear scratches and accepted Bridget’s sloppy dog kisses in return.

There was giggling involved. Jane laughed too.

Noah sat back in his chair. He’d been crazy about Skye, but try as she might, she never quite caught on to the whole animal thing. One tearful day she admitted she just didn’t like dogs. There was no childhood trauma, no nasty encounters. She simply didn’t care for the mess of pets.

Noah sighed and knew he was in trouble. There was no possible reason to compare Jane to Skye. Unless... Unless he was looking at her as a woman and not a client.

Well, shoot. He was gonna have to talk to her.

And he was probably gonna like it.

“What’s on your mind, Jane?”

She cleared her throat and carefully lifted the lid off her cup. “I came to apologize.” Her brows came together in a concentrated frown as she wrangled her tea-bag out of the water and set it aside. “I was too hard on you the other night. You are in no way to blame for Snowball’s death. You did all the right things. I was upset.”

“I appreciate the words, but it’s not necessary, and you didn’t have to do all this.”

“And I know what you meant when you asked if I’d brought Snowball back. I know you weren’t thinking I was a crazy cat lady. I thought about it later. I understand there are people who have their pets cremated and how else would they get that done if they didn’t put them in their cars and take them to the aftercare place?” She took a breath. “Sorry. I’m talking too much, and all I’m really trying to say is I’m sorry.”

“I understand. It’s not personal. It’s part of the work. The loss of a pet is traumatic. You had to get through that anger.”

“I know.” She shook a packet of sugar into her cup. “But I’m not generally a mean person, you know? And I said some mean things.”

“Forget it.”

“I didn’t bring you cookies and tea as part of my apology.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I could have written a note for that. I brought tea and cookies because I’m glad you’re here.”

That scared him into sucking down a gulp of tea that was way too hot. He tried to look unmoved even as his mouth burned out of control and his heart raced. What did she mean? Did she mean she was glad he was there as a vet? Or as a guy?

Burn, burn, burn. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Shoot, shoot, shoot.
When did he become such a
woman
?

He grabbed a napkin and covered his mouth.

“Here’s an idea,” she said and took an angel-shaped cookie, “let’s talk about something else. Do you think you’ll be able to make it to church or the ballet?
The Nutcracker
opens tomorrow and runs until the twenty-third. And my church has three Christmas Eve services. It’s all on the cards I gave you.”

“I don’t know, Jane. The whole point of an animal emergency clinic is that it’s after regular office hours. I’m locked in here for nights, weekends, and holidays. This is a busy season. People give pets for Christmas and the animals freak out and get sick because of the new surroundings, different foods, loud noises—you name it. Parents get cute puppies and kittens from unscrupulous breeders or pet stores. They come home already ill, and the new owners don’t even know it yet. They end up here because the regular vet is closed.” He brushed crumbs off his desk. “And before you get all feisty, I know you got Snowball for Christmas one year. I generally advise against it, but sometimes it works out. You obviously come from a family of experienced pet owners.”

She nodded and sipped her tea. “Don’t you have someone to cover for you? What if you have an emergency of your own?”

“There are other veterinarians in this group. But I’m the one without kids or family here so I’m the one who’ll work Christmas.”

“What about California? Is that where your parents are? Won’t they miss you at Christmas?”

“I am quite sure my parents will not miss me. They are travelling right now, and I’d have to check their blog to even pinpoint where they are tonight. But rest assured they’ll be home for their annual New Year’s Eve bash. Wouldn’t want to forego that for anything family oriented or meaningful.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“Nope. Just me. I think my parents knew I was going to disappoint them, so they opted not to risk it happening again rather than trying for something better the second time.”

She seemed visibly disturbed by his remarks. “That’s a bit harsh, Dr. Noah. I’m sensing you’re not real close to your parents.”

“We’ve grown apart. Especially this past year.”

“But it’s Christmas. And that’s about Jesus and family and miracles... Surely there are some fond childhood memories you can fall back on.”

“Not really. The best Christmases I had were with my grandparents in Wimberley. In fact, all of my best memories are with my grandparents. They’re gone now, and with them went all that warm fuzzy stuff you’re referring to. My parents don’t really get that.”

“So what happened this past year to make it worse?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you’ve grown apart—especially this past year.”

He knew this would happen if she made him talk. He’d say things he didn’t mean to say and reveal things he didn’t mean to reveal. “It’s nothing.”

She smiled. “When you say something like that, all I hear is
it’s a real interesting story
so you might as well tell me.”

“Nah... More sad than anything.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make light of it.”

“No... I had a fiancée this time last year. My parents love her because she’s a med student. She’s in residency. We met at one of their parties. She broke our engagement last Christmas when her mother died. My parents were unhappy about the break-up.”

“I see. But your parents sound like smart people, and I’m sure they know deep down it takes two to make or break a relationship. You’re their son. Their loyalty must lean your way.”

Was there no end to this woman’s compassion? He was near powerless to resist her overwhelming empathy. She was taking his part in a situation in which she had no full understanding.

“There’s a little more to it than that.”

“Still...”

He met her inquisitive crystal blue gaze. The intensity startled him. He had to stop before she’d stripped him of everything. “I need to get back to work.”

“Of course.” She tossed her cup in the trash can at the side of his desk. “I’ll get out of your way.”

He hurried around the desk to retrieve the shoes she’d kicked away earlier.

“Oh, here,” she said. “Drop those in the bag. I’m not putting those horrid things back on.”

“It’s forty-five degrees out there.”

She fished her keys out of the bag. “I don’t care.”

He’d tried to hold her at arm’s length. Now it was perfectly clear all he wanted to do was keep her feet warm.

He remained cool and professional. “Thanks for coming, Jane.”

“My pleasure, Dr. Noah.”

****

‘Twas the fourteenth day of Christmas break

Things were hectic all around,

Melody was sick with high fever

And it wouldn’t come down.

Jane rushed to the drugstore

In hopes of a chance,

That things would improve

And Mel could still dance.

And Jane had told no one

She’d met someone new,

But as yet Dr. Noah

Had not followed through...

Jane carried the tray down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Her mother quickly dropped everything in soapy water and passed Jane the container of hand sanitizer. “How is she?”

“She’s asleep. Didn’t eat much. Still warm. When did the doctor say he’d have results?”

“The actual throat culture could take a while, but he doesn’t really think it’s bacterial anyway. He thinks it’s the good old-fashioned flu. High fever, severe body aches, etc.”

Jane leaned against the counter. “Are you going to call Madame Raveneaux?”

“Not yet. She knew Mel was getting sick last night. Call is at six-thirty, curtain at eight. The Sugar Plum Fairy doesn’t dance until the second act. It’s noon. There’s time to rally her understudy. I’m not worried about that. My main concern is Melody’s health.”

“Of course, but Mel also dances in the first act as a doll.”

“Yes, I’m aware. This may not be the Bolshoi, but Madame Raveneaux has some talented dancers up her sleeve. Her daughter’s in from college, too, and would be happy to jump in there.” Her mother returned to the stove and stirred a pot of white bean chili. “Right now I need to get lunch on the table. Would you please fill the water glasses?”

“Sure, but water goblets for lunch on a weekday? Pretty fancy for us, even at Christmas. And there’s one too many. Mel can’t come down.”

“Don’t put that away. We need that. We have a guest.”

“Today? With all we have going on and Melody being sick? Not to mention Grandpa’s in his Zombie Apocalypse Christmas boxers. Is it one of your gossipy friends from Zumba? ’Cause dad will love that on his Christmas vacation.”

“Will you stop? This is no big deal. I’ve been spraying disinfectant everywhere. That pair of boxers actually looks like shorts, and your dad will be fine with him.”

“Him? Did you at least warn this guy about the boxers?”

“Water glasses, please. And you need to relax. I’m the mama, and I will take care of everything. I always do.”

The doorbell rang.

As was customary in the Trumbull household at Christmastime, everyone ran for the door. It was a peculiar little habit they’d developed through the years. Mostly because it was Christmas and a ringing doorbell could mean carolers or treats from the neighbors or gifts in the mail—and everyone wanted to be the first to see. Not to mention it often caught whoever it was off guard, and they were either tickled or alarmed by the crowd at the door. Either way it was funny.

Jane flew from the kitchen and hopped over the back of the easy chair to beat everyone to the handle. Her mother, dad, grandpa, and Major slid to a stop behind her. Poor Melody would have been on her heels had she been able to crawl out of bed.

Jane flung open the door.

And gasped in astonishment.

Not to mention embarrassment.

“Dr. Noah? Bridget?”

“Hi, Jane.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Jane!” Her mother pushed her aside. “Don’t be rude. C’mon in, Noah.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Trumbull,” he said as if from a black-and-white fifties sitcom.

“Call me Sunny. Everyone does. This is my husband, Richard. Everyone calls him Rich, and you know Grandpa Stone and Major. You’ve met Jane. Our daughter Melody won’t be joining us because she’s sick.”