Christmas, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “I’ve never really needed the money, so it hasn’t been something I’ve spent time thinking about. Plus, you and Mom never really talked about the trust funds.”

  “Well, you’re old enough now, and if there’s something you want to use it for, there’s plenty of money in it to supplement your lifestyle or help you buy your first house, or whatever you might need.”

  “Well, I’m planning to keep the money in trust for my children,” Sabine said.

  “It’s there if you need it, girls. I want to you know that it became available to you at age twenty-five. It’s in the Whitney Bank in New Orleans.”

  “I’ll let Ivy at the Ministry Inn know you want the suite. Call her with your credit card tomorrow, okay?” Rachel said.

  “I’ll do it. Thanks, girls. Please give your mother my best.”

  “Bye, Daddy,” they said in unison.

  They hung up.

  Still sitting in the car, they were silent for a few minutes.

  “So, what did you want to discuss?” Sabine asked.

  “The conversation with Dad just exhausted me.”

  “Obviously, you need to talk. So, talk,” Sabine said.

  Rachel took a deep breath and let it out. “I think I’m in love with Nick.”

  Sabine’s eyes grew huge. “Get out!”

  “That’s not the therapist’s reaction I expected.”

  “That was my sister response.” Sabine grinned at her. “Holy crap, girl. You’re in love?”

  “I said, I think, which is why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

  “Do you believe I would be able to tell you if you really are?”

  “I wanted to be sure. How can I be sure? I think about him all the time. He’s a really good person from what I’ve seen, besides the fact that he’s a Falcons fan.”

  “Ooh, strike one.”

  “Very funny. Anyway, he’s so cute and sexy. And we’re, um, very compatible, if you know what I mean.”

  “You’ve slept with Doctor McHottie?”

  “Yes. I have. I know you think I’ve been around a lot more than I have, but I really haven’t been with many guys.”

  “I know that, silly. You were all talk.”

  “How did you know? I was away for all that time.”

  “I knew.”

  “Well, anyway, I can see myself with him, like, in the future. Having dinner at the end of the day, bathing our kids. Stuff like that. But I see him here with me in Ministry. I don’t see myself moving away to Atlanta and living the lifestyle of a bigshot trauma surgeon’s wife.”

  “Are you more interested in being here or being with him, no matter where that might be?” Sabine asked in her therapy voice.

  Rachel thought about it. Could she be happy here without Nick? Or, could she be happy someplace else with Nick?

  “I guess if you really love someone, you do whatever it takes to work out a life together, huh?” Rachel asked, but it was more like an answer.

  “No. You don’t give up your dreams, and you don’t settle for something less than you deserve. One person doesn’t get everything they want. There must be compromise. But both people have to be willing to go as far as necessary.”

  Rachel nodded. Was she willing to make changes to be with Nick? She could still have a photography studio in suburban Atlanta, and she didn’t have to be in the middle of town in the fanciest area. If she really loved him, she would.

  If he wanted to be with her, he could help her by adjusting how and where they lived within the Atlanta area, couldn’t he? The wouldn’t have to live in the same neighborhood as his parents. Rachel figured there had to be some less urban areas nearby with a more rural feel. She couldn’t ask him to give up such a promising career and insist he move here, but after living in Ministry, Rachel didn’t think she could go back to true in-town living.

  “I think I care about him enough to make big changes. I do,” Rachel said.

  “Then, you know your heart, Sister. Don’t let this guy slip away without letting him know how you feel just because the obstacles appear too far beyond your ability to solve them.”

  “You know, you’re worth every penny.”

  Sabine laughed. “I’d better get inside and feed my crew before I run out of gas.” She shifted her excessive girth and made to exit the car.

  “Thanks again. I’ll keep you posted. We’ve got a stay-home date tonight.”

  Sabine opened the door, a wistful and faraway look in her eye. “Sounds like something Ben and I used to do before we started pro-creating.”

  “You’ll get there again. Baking these nieces and nephews inside your body for me is pretty important, you know.”

  “Yeah, and I look forward to a day very soon when you’re growing your own little humans. Then, you’ll understand.”

  “Thanks for everything, Sabine, including making me an aunt.”

  “If I were you, I’d stop by the store and pick up some food and wine if you plan to spend the evening having a heart-to-heart with a man. You’ll need to feed him first, and a little liquor won’t hurt either one of you.”

  “Gotcha. Go feed your family. They’re probably thinking I took you away since we’ve been out here so long.”

  “Good luck tonight. Let me know how it goes.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll hear about it either way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nick was confronted at work by an attractive single female patient with a suspiciously mild case of poison ivy. “It reeaally itches.”

  “Poison ivy can spread, so be careful to wash your hands thoroughly and try to avoid scratching as much as possible. I’m prescribing over the counter calamine lotion and Benadryl every six hours. It might make you sleepy, so take care while driving.”

  The pretty girl with the light brown hair narrowed her eyes as if he weren’t telling her what she wanted to hear. “Over the counter, huh? You mean I could have saved my fifty-dollar co-pay and gone to the Walgreens?”

  He nodded. “Yes. This isn’t serious. I’m sorry you wasted your time and money. But be sure and don’t rub it in your eye, because you will end up here with a real problem then. And you’ll be very uncomfortable with a much larger issue.”

  “So, thanks for nothing, I guess. I heard you were really hot and single. You’re hot, but you’re not looking at me like a single man would, so I’m assuming you’re with someone.”

  “I work here; I don’t date here, or discuss my personal life,” Nick said, put off by the young woman’s manner.

  “He’s dating someone,” Georgie said, as she showed their patient out. “It’s our town photographer, Rachel Prudhomme. You might know her.” Georgie’s tone was pure honey, but Nick had now known his nurse long enough to read between her sticky sweet words. It would go something like, Get out, Stanky, and leave our guy alone.

  Nick had to smile. In the short time he’d been working at Ministry General, the staff had shown an inordinate amount of loyalty to him in many small ways, which let him know they cared, and that he’d been accepted here. When he thought about some of the catty, backbiting things that went on in some of the departments during his rotations, and his time working as a doctor on staff at his most recent position, this was such a refreshing environment.

  Nick had done some serious soul-searching, and met with George Granger. George’s meeting with the board a few days ago when Nick had met Rachel for lunch was related to that same situation.

  Nick was looking forward to his evening with Rachel, so as soon as he got off work, he stopped by the market to pick up a few items.

  As Nick perused the aisles in the small specialty market looking for just the right items, a shrill voice cut into his concentration. “Somebody help us!”

  Nick turned to see the woman who he’d last seen in a really bad reindeer sweater leaned over a man prone on the floor. He immediately left his cart to lend a hand.

  “Oh, thank God. Please help my daddy.”

  The man wore his sherif
f’s uniform, complete with badge and radio clipped to his shoulder. Nick checked for a pulse and respiration. There was none. So, he told, Angie, was it? “Call 9-1-1.” Then, he began CPR.

  A small crowd formed around them. Angie cried. And the sheriff coughed and came to, thank the Lord. His color wasn’t great at first, but at least he seemed coherent. The paramedic arrived shortly after that, and administered oxygen and started an IV.

  Sheriff Davis was weak, but conscious, and looking better by the minute. He grabbed Nick’s wrist. “I want to thank you, son.”

  “Don’t try to speak. You’re welcome. Dr. Granger is on duty at the hospital, and I’ll call and check on you in a little while.”

  He nodded. “Granger’s a good man.” The paramedics nodded to Nick as they rolled the gurney away.

  Angie came over then, and threw her arms around Nick’s neck. “Thank you for saving Daddy’s life. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been standing there.” She was sobbing, now, mascara running in black rivers down her face.

  “I’m glad I was here to help. He’s speaking coherently, so that’s a good sign.” He patted her arm briefly, then broke contact.

  “I’m so sorry for the way I behaved the other day. I was bitchy and hateful, and I was wrong.” She hung her head.

  Nick smiled at the woman, who was obviously ashamed. “Hey, no worries. Go on with your dad now. He needs you.”

  She waved as she ran to catch up with her father as they put him in the ambulance.

  Nick exhaled, relieved the sheriff would likely be okay, depending on the condition of his heart. He didn’t show any outward signed of a stroke, so that was good.

  Several shoppers still loitered nearby, discussing what they’d just witnessed in whispered tones, which made Nick slightly uncomfortable, so he smiled and gave a quick wave, just before he turned to retrieve his shopping cart a little farther down the frozen food aisle.

  “Doctor Sullivan, is it?” a woman, maybe in her fifties, asked.

  “Yes, I’m Nick Sullivan.”

  “We just wanted to tell you that we’ve never seen anything like that before, and well, you saved the sheriff’s life. Thank you. It’s so nice to know you’re living among us and that you’re willing to step out and be a good citizen and all.” The woman stepped up and hugged him.

  He was surprised. Did she think he wouldn’t do everything possible to save a dying man’s life? “Uh. Of course.” He returned her hug, although not quite as enthusiastically, because that would be uncomfortable—for him.

  Another woman, who was likely around eighty, stepped forward then. “Young man, we hear you’ll be leaving us in a few weeks, and I for one would just like to say that I wish you’d give our little town a shot. We’re not as backward as we seem to those on the outside. Ministry has a lot to offer. We could use a good man like you—and another good doctor—among us.”

  Nick smiled then. “I’ll think about it.”

  As he resumed his shopping, Nick’s heart sang. Surely what just happened was a sign. There had been quite a few signs lately.

  He picked up a dozen red roses in the floral department. “You know red roses mean love, don’t you?” the tiny elderly woman at the counter, who was arranging a mixed bouquet asked, as he spent a moment finding the freshest and loveliest roses.

  He kind of thought everyone knew that, but just nodded his head instead of saying so.

  “If you give a woman red roses, you’d better mean what they say.”

  “Don’t worry; I do.” He winked at the wide-eyed little busy-body.

  She blushed and turned back to handling her own flowers.

  Rachel had cooked a meal, though she wouldn’t likely admit that to her family. They didn’t know she was perfectly capable of doing such. And she’d not shown them her skills or talents because so long as they believed her inept in the kitchen, they took care to send her meals prepared in their kitchens.

  This was a special evening, and if she were going to spill her guts to Nick, she planned to ply him with food and wine first, as Sabine suggested. The scampi sauce was perfect. She’d combined butter, lemon, garlic, with a hint of white wine. She’d seasoned that with coarse black pepper and salt. She would add the shrimp at the same time as she put the angel hair pasta on to boil. The water was already boiling in a large stock pot, and the garlic bread was ready to pop into the oven just as soon as she heard Nick arrive home next door from work.

  Now, while the sauce simmered, Rachel would put a little effort into her appearance, which she could honestly say she’d not done much since she and Nick had met. Their time together had been mostly casual and unplanned, so, besides their quick trip to Atlanta, where she’d worn a football jersey, he’d never seen her “date ready.” Thanksgiving didn’t count because it had also been a casual dinner, and she’d intentionally not gussied up for him.

  So, putting on makeup, a sexy, yet still casual dress, and perfume felt odd, but more than a little exciting. Rachel hadn’t gotten to the ripe age of twenty-six without realizing her appeal to males, especially when she put a little effort into it. For the most part, she’d been disinterested and somewhat oblivious, but not completely ignorant of being attractive to men. Now, it mattered. Nick had made his interest in her very clear. But she wanted to solidify that interest into something more. Going the extra mile with her appearance wouldn’t make a difference if he didn’t feel the same about her emotionally, but they were still in such a fresh and exciting discovery stage of one another. It couldn’t hurt.

  She finally heard the door shut next door. She checked the time on the clock next to her bed. It was a little later than he normally returned home.

  Her phone rang, and she saw it was Nick. An explosion of tiny butterflies swirled in her tummy. Lord help her, she was textbook swoony. “Hello there.”

  “Hi. I just got home. You still up for some company after I shower off the day?” he asked.

  Okay. This was ridiculous. Now she was swoony at the sound of his voice over the phone. “You bet. I made dinner.”

  A pause. “Should I be concerned?”

  She laughed. “Only if you’re allergic to shellfish or garlic.”

  “I thought I smelled something cooking when I came down the hall. I’m starving. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes with wine.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  As Rachel moved into the kitchen to finish the meal, she got a text from Sabine. Sending my love. Hope your evening goes well. Rachel smiled. She’d been blessed with a wonderful big sister and mother. She guessed she would deal with her daddy issues along the way.

  There was a short knock at the door, then Nick walked in. It seemed they’d had similar ideas for this evening. He was wearing a sport coat and button-down shirt with dark jeans and loafers. He was holding a large bouquet of red roses and a bottle of wine. And some sort of dessert.

  “Wow, you look fantastic. Can we skip dinner?” He kissed her on the cheek and nuzzled her neck.

  A little thrill shot through Rachel. “Umm. That sounds tempting, but I’ve spent a considerable amount of time on the preparation, so let’s enjoy all of it. We’ve got all night.”

  “Okay, dinner does smell amazing. Can I do anything to help?”

  “You can pour us a glass of that nice wine.” She turned her attention back to what he was holding. Red roses? Hmm...Best to not read too much into it yet. But, red roses. The first time he’d brought her flowers, they weren’t red roses. “Wow, those are gorgeous. Thanks.” She took them from him and laid them on the counter while she grabbed a vase from up in the cabinet.

  “I know you like roses,” he said, and though his eyes were making her insides mushy, she didn’t pick up on anything more.

  She motioned to the dessert. “That looks delicious. What is it?”

  “I was told it was some sort of trifle by the pastry chef at the dessert counter at the market. I’m still amazed that a town this size carries such specific items.” />
  The market in town wasn’t an average grocery store—anymore. It had begun as a deli that did catering. They carried specialty hand-sliced meats, fresh fish and shellfish, daily-made desserts, breads, and they had a killer wine and cheese selection. “We’re a picky bunch, and now that Jenna Martin has taken over the family business, she’s really gotten the pulse of what people want. A couple years ago, she completely renovated, expanded, and revamped the place and it’s been a hugely successful endeavor.”

  “Smart ideas. With all the cooking shows, recipes passed around on social media, and focus on food intolerances and allergies, it makes sense to give people what they want and need.” Spoken like a true medical man.

  “Everybody loves to eat. Well, I guess not everybody, but here in the South, so much of what we do is centered around food. Might as well be healthy and happy.”

  “Speaking of food, I think your pasta’s about to boil over, and it would make me very happy to help you drain it while you finish the scampi.”

  She nudged him in the ribs and handed him the strainer. “Fine. I’m turning off the sauce. The shrimp are ready. I’ll get the fresh Reggiano Parmesan from the fridge.

  “I smell the bread. My mom always burned the bread.” He wrinkled his nose.

  “Don’t worry. I have the timer set.”

  “A woman after my heart.” He dramatically laid a hand over his chest in that general region.

  If he only knew where tonight’s conversation was headed on her end. The oven timer sounded.

  He grabbed the potholders that were sitting on the counter. “I’ve got this.”

  The pasta was in the strainer, so Rachel transferred it to a large glass bowl and took it over to the table.

  She kept the scampi in the pan and placed it on top of a trivet in the center of the table.

  “You’re pretty good at this for someone who never let on you could cook.”

  “Shhh. Don’t tell my family I learned all their secrets. They think I’m all but useless in the kitchen, and I prefer it that way. If they think I’m over here starving, they’ll share their food with me and I don’t have to cook for one.”