Sandcastles Under the Christmas Moon

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Maybe I can turn that around with a few house calls.”

  “And maybe the sky will turn red and green in time for Christmas. You can certainly try and hopefully have better luck with it than what I’ve had. After all, you’re a much younger man with more enthusiasm at this stage of your life. Look, I’ll be honest. I’m tired of the grind, Quentin. Retiring for good won’t come too soon for me.”

  About that time, Belle stuck her head into the study. “You boys about done with your meeting, got everything straightened out between you two? Because our other guest has arrived. She’s getting out of the car now.”

  Quentin sent Jack an annoyed look. “You invited Sydney Reed, didn’t you? Why? You should’ve at least told me.”

  “And given you the opportunity to turn me down? No way. And the reason she’s here is because it’s time the two of you had a meeting of your own and get on the same page before tomorrow. You’re going to be working side by side in a very small clinic. If there’s friction between you two, the patients will be able to pick up on it.”

  “Maybe I’ll fire her and send her packing. How would that be?”

  Jack shook his head as he stood up. “Son, you don’t strike me as dumb. That would be incredibly counterproductive on your part.”

  Quentin followed Doc out of the room knowing full well the sentiment was accurate. But he didn’t have to like it.

  Sydney stood in the entryway taking off her jacket. What remained was an off-the-shoulder dress in a brilliant silky swirl of green that matched her eyes.

  From fifteen feet away, she didn’t miss the lazy look Quentin sent her. It sent vibes out, vibes that held hints of slow-burning sex on crisp white sheets.

  The hallway suddenly became electrified.

  “Why don’t we go into the living room?” Belle suggested. “Jack, you play bartender. I’ll take a glass of white wine.”

  “That sounds good,” Sydney said in agreement.

  “Beer for me,” Quentin cited.

  Over cocktails and stuffed mushrooms the conversation remained civil as Jack dutifully brought up what the two had in common. “Sydney is very fond of anything outdoors. She hikes the canyons on weekends and bikes to work almost every day. And Quentin here grew up in ski country, with the Sierra Nevada as his backyard.”

  “If you ask me that’s one of the most beautiful places to live in the state,” Sydney remarked. “I’d hoped to plan a ski trip there by now. But it just hasn’t worked out.”

  “You ski?”

  “I did, although I haven’t been in a long time.”

  “Maybe you could work that vacation in at Christmas,” Quentin said in an amiable tone.

  “It would be great to close up the office over a long weekend,” Sydney agreed. “That is, if you don’t fire me first.”

  “Depends on your attitude and work ethic,” Quentin volleyed back with a grin.

  Avoiding a touchy subject, Belle chimed in, “You know where the best place is to spend Christmas? Home. Jack and I’ve found right here along the coast is the perfect venue.”

  Jack angled his head toward his wife. “This one spends a month decorating, putting up lights, the tree, the works. Our kids come down from the Bay Area two days before Christmas Eve to help us celebrate. There’s no driveway to shovel, no icy roads to deal with. Instead of traveling to exotic places, we’ll opt for the cozy confines of the ranch every time.”

  “Now if I can just talk my grandmother into coming for a visit so I can work on getting her to leave Tahoma and move here, everything will fall into place.”

  Sydney snickered. “Haven’t you heard? Things rarely fall into place. My mother lives in a small town in New York, wouldn’t leave it for the world, even though her grandchild is three thousand miles away.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if my grandbabies lived that far away,” Belle lamented. “How does your mother do it?”

  “Lots of Skyping, lots of videos and pictures.”

  The talk continued in that vein during the meal. Simple. Inoffensive.

  Quentin learned quite a bit about his only employee. She liked to explore the surrounding area, was adventurous to a fault, and wasn’t shy about stating her opinion.

  “The first time in Bolero Canyon I got lost. Even with my compass it took me three hours to find my way out of there.”

  “I would’ve been scared to death,” Belle admitted.

  Sydney cut her eyes toward her new boss. “I don’t scare easily. Maybe it’s time we give Dr. Blackwood a chance to tell us about himself. I think I’d like to hear how he did things back in the trauma center at Lake Tahoe.”

  “Oh, let’s not get into that,” Jack said, trying for diplomacy.

  But Jack was ignored as if he wasn’t in the room.

  Quentin threw down his napkin and pushed his plate away. “Let’s get this over with. You want my résumé? Fine. When not on call, I pretty much lived rounding on patients in the ICU and the flip side depending on where they’d been admitted, like pediatrics or geriatrics. I treated lots of open wounds, saw lots of ventilator management. In the elderly and little kids there was quite a bit of TPN to bypass the gastrointestinal tract. I saw my share of GSWs, emergency gall bladder operations, as well as appendectomies. I’ve seen broken hips in elderly patients who fell. Lots of SBOs, or as you well know, small bowel obstructions. That’s not to mention the heart attacks and those who thought they were having one. I’ve lost four-year-old kids who bled to death on the table. Fortunately, over the years I’ve been able to save more than I’ve lost.”

  He sent Jack a seething look. “If I left anything out, I’m sure you’ll be able to fill in for me, or perhaps Nurse Reed will be happy to bring it up again over coffee and cake.”

  Quentin stood up. “It was a fine meal, Belle. Thank you for having me, but it’s been a long day. I think I’ll head for home.”

  “But you haven’t had coffee or dessert,” the hostess pointed out.

  “That’s okay. Give mine to Ms. Reed.”

  He got to the front door and realized Sydney had followed him out of the dining room. “You don’t have to storm out of here. I’m the one who should leave.”

  He threw on his jacket and opened the door. “No, no, you stay and enjoy your evening. The three of you should have a nice farewell dinner together.” But as he walked out to the driveway, she was right behind him.

  “I don’t know what it is about you that gets me so riled up or makes me so…distrustful. I purposely did that knowing I’d get a reaction.”

  A three-quarter moon had come out to play, lighting their pathway as it brushed the sky like an artist’s stroke on canvas. Bracelets of stars glittered overhead in showmanship fashion.

  The autumn night greeted them with a crisp, flawless breeze, fluttering the leaves enough to whirl and whip and scatter the foliage beneath their feet.

  Someone somewhere had built a fire. Quentin could smell the earthy wood smoke as it sent up fragrant wafts into the night. He stood there looking at her, trying to figure out why she disliked him so much. “Good to know I didn’t disappoint. My guess is you carry a lot of baggage around. But when you figure it out for yourself, be sure to give me the all-clear sign so I’ll be able to take a detour around your moods.”

  “Don’t go away mad. I’m sorry,” Sydney said and meant it.

  “You seem to get yourself into a situation where you have to say those two little words a lot. Why is that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I have a big mouth.” She glanced up at the night sky, breathed deeply, filling her lungs with fresh air. “Come on, don’t be mad. After all, look where we both landed. You have to admit this beats living in St. Louis all to pieces.”

  After being cooped up inside for most of the afternoon, Quentin could only agree. “Never been to St. Louis, but this beats the hell out of Chicago.”

  “No doubt five years in residency. Am I right? See. I can be nice. I grew up two hours from Chicago.”

&
nbsp; “What I remember there are the brutal winters,” Quentin muttered.

  “Multiple days of zero temps.” She held out her arms. “But look where we are. It’s such a beautiful evening tonight that it beats the hell out of any other place I’ve ever lived.”

  She tilted her head toward his. “Who knows, after you’ve been here a while you may come to love it almost as much as you do South Lake Tahoe.”

  “Maybe. But you don’t know anything about me or where I come from.”

  “And when I try to ask you about that, you’re as prickly as a saguaro cactus.”

  “Because it comes off as doubting my ability as a physician. I won’t put up with that.” Quentin looked skyward, drew in his own deep breath to calm down. “Look, I’ll start over. I’ll give you a chance at reasonable conversation. You say you’ve been here longer. What do you love most about being here?”

  “I get to see my sister, Hayden, and my little nephew whenever I want.” She laughed. “Hayden, I still can’t get used to calling her that. But since everyone else does, I had to practice.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Long story. Hayden isn’t really her name. Oh, it is now. But she was actually born Emile Reed. Changing her name was necessary at the time. Like I said, long story.”

  “You’ll have to fill in the gaps at some point. What else do you like about living here?”

  “Rooted here with family is important to me. We get to spend holidays together. We have backyard barbecues without planning them as a major event where the nights like this are spectacular but easy-going. Does that make sense?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Get-togethers are second nature. They don’t feel strained or planned. And afterward, if you feel like it you can take a long walk on the beach, breathe in the ocean air, take advantage of all nature has to offer. I’m glad I made the move. And if you decide to fire me I’d still find a way to stay right where I am.”

  Quentin took his car keys out of his pocket and opened his driver’s side door. He stood there gazing over at Sydney. “I’m not going to fire you. But we will have to find a way to work together. If not, we’ll drive each other nuts. Surely you’ve seen that happen in other ERs where the staff doesn’t get along. Tension creates a bad work environment. I’m not putting up with that in my own practice. If it comes to that, you’ll have to decide what you want to do about it.”

  He started to climb into the front seat and stopped. “One more thing, though, and this is important. If you ever question my ability in front of a patient, I’ll rethink letting you go. Our working relationship will be finished on the spot. Are we clear about that?”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, he got behind the wheel, turned the key, and gunned the engine down the driveway.

  Left standing by herself, Sydney let out a loud sigh. So much for the anticipated new start at work. It had yet to get off on a good footing.

  As she walked back up to the porch, it occurred to her that she should’ve kept her big fat mouth shut from the very beginning and kept her opinions to herself.

  “Why didn’t you?” she muttered as she opened the front door to go back inside. “You know the egos on surgeons. Have you ever known a single one of them to take criticism very well? The answer to that is…a big fat no.”

  Seven

  When he walked back into the cannery, the empty shell that was supposed to be his home greeted him like a cold slap in the face. The stark room made him realize he was on his way to creating a sterile personal space unlike any he’d ever lived in before. The place felt so impersonal that it was like he’d forgotten to pack a personality.

  Maybe it was time to admit he’d made a colossal mistake in judgment. How had he thought he could turn this packing house into a livable loft? What a joke. But what could he do about it now? He’d already dropped a ton of money, money from his savings he should’ve kept in reserve. And on what? A rundown piece of property that most sane people would’ve passed on, in a town where his detractors were plentiful. The clever Kinsey hadn’t mentioned that when he’d signed the papers. His critics could easily start lining up on the boardwalk to run him out of here at the slightest provocation.

  But he’d never been a quitter and he refused to adopt that strategy now. Even when he’d been flat on his back in Intensive Care and things were touch and go, he’d fought for his life. Now was no different. He’d just have to show the townspeople through dedication and hard work that he could be the best damned doctor they’d ever seen.

  After getting his thoughts together, after determining what his goal would be, he decided to use his laptop to search online for any information about paranormal hauntings. He’d done so this afternoon before heading out to Jack’s, but the search had yielded little about how to handle ghostly occurrences.

  “That won’t do you any good,” Scott announced from the far corner of the room. “The people who write those blogs don’t know anything worth reading. They offer no useful information on the subject. Trust me.”

  Hearing Scott’s voice again made Quentin jump. His head snapped up in irritation. “You do that on purpose, I’m sure.”

  “I reserve surprising people for those I don’t especially like.”

  “Yeah? You’re a real gem.”

  “Well, it is the only kick I get out of life.”

  “So you’re a sadist as well as a ghoulish fiend.”

  “Me? I’m an angel sent from heaven above.”

  Quentin rolled his eyes. “Is that a come-on to get me to ask the question on everyone’s mind? Is there really a heaven?”

  “Think about that for a minute. If heaven’s so great, then why wouldn’t I be spending all my time there? Seriously.”

  “You tell me.”

  “The truth is I opted to stick around on earth and see my daughter grow up.”

  “You’re so full of shit.”

  “Maybe not. Exactly when did you jump on board with my…existence?”

  “This morning I stopped by the Cody house. Brent and River couldn’t say enough nice things about you. And earlier tonight your name came up in conversation. At Jack’s. He didn’t even acknowledge the weirdness of it all. Nor did he dispute the fact that I’d talked to you. Coming from Jack, that has to mean something. He indicated I’d have to learn the quirkiness of the town on my own. You seem to have pushed the quirk factor off the scale.”

  “Hmm, which tells me I need to add a second act to my repertoire, maybe leave a bigger impression on people.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine. I wouldn’t add a thing to your delivery. What is it you want from me?”

  “Naturally with a new doc in town, I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure you can cut it here.”

  “And if I don’t, you’ll no doubt act as the ringleader for running me out of town.”

  “Now you’re beginning to get the big picture. But let’s face it, that won’t happen. You’re a highly trained, highly qualified MD. We’re lucky to get a guy like you.”

  Quentin’s forehead creased into lines of confusion. “Just last night you were downright insulting, questioning my skill as a physician. Why the change of heart today? On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I don’t care. But let me ask you something. How is it you’re able to do this? Walk around and bug people when you’ve been dead for years?”

  “Just part of the mysteries of the universe, I guess.”

  “That’s even more vague than I expected. I looked up people who claim they’ve had a paranormal experience. There’s a startling common thread that says when guys like you don’t want to let go, they don’t. Their spirit remains behind in the location where they were most comfortable. River says for you, that’s here, hanging around town. My guess is that when you were alive you must’ve been a force, a type A personality, a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “You’d think so, huh? Once upon a time, maybe. I remember thinking I have my whol
e life to make things happen, to take care of my family, to make my dreams come true.”

  Quentin chuckled. “You want to talk dreams? When I got shot I was on the fast track to making chief of staff within ten months. I had the perfect home of my dreams less than two miles from the hospital. I thought I had the perfect relationship. I’d planned everything out.”

  “So delusional we are that plans and dreams crater in an instant. Or maybe it’s arrogance. Whatever huge driving force was inside me back then I thought I could move mountains. Turns out, I didn’t have that kind of power until after I died. And now, I’m forced to rely on cheap theatrics to get anyone’s attention at all. It’s beneath me, I know, but I have nothing else to fall back on.”

  “Like I said, you’re doing just fine. You did manage to get my attention. And that’s almost impossible. I can’t believe we’re having a conversation like this. Now tell me what you want.”

  “You already know why you’re here.”

  “Ah, so it’s a riddle. You don’t have the guts to tell me outright.”

  “Baiting me won’t get you anywhere.”

  “I’m here to heal the sick and take care of the injured.”

  For the first time Scott’s face broke into a wide grin. “Be careful what you assume to be fact. And just so you know, Beckham’s grandmother is a lot sicker than he lets on. Those two are both in a bad way. Do something about it. Don’t let the boy stall you for much longer. It might already be too late.”

  Quentin watched as Scott went poof just like the night before. Alone, or so he assumed, he sat there with his head in his hands. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

  He carried those same heavy thoughts to bed where his nightmares morphed into a fitful sleep. Quentin found himself outside, cold and dying. Even in his dream, the night he’d been shot was vivid, so crystal clear that he could feel the bullet pierce his flesh again just as it had in that snowy parking lot. He could hear the crunch crunch crunch of footsteps as the gunman walked over the frozen cement to get a better bead on him. He could hear the emergency personnel talking, Natalie’s voice kept telling him it would be okay. So when the panic set in, there was no real surprise. His breathing quickened. His pulse went off the charts.