The Problem With Mistletoe

by Kyle Baxter

  Tandi stood and put on her scarf. “Now that’s settled, I’m off.”

  “Declare victory and leave.” David shook his head. “Classic Tandi Cooper!”

  “Knowing when to exit a party is an invaluable skill, right, Alex?”

  “Right you are, Mrs. C.” As he rubbed his side in pain, he shot another warning glance at Eric, who burst into a fresh round of giggles.

  “And you’re good at leaving . . .” David said under his breath. Though no one else seemed to hear it, a quick glance at the hurt on Alex’s face confirmed he did. Why do I keep doing that?

  Tandi gave Alex another kiss on the cheek. “No one has called me ‘Mrs. C’ in ages. You’ve been sorely missed. Come see me tomorrow and we’ll talk.” She handed him a business card.

  Mama took his mother’s arm and they walked to the front. It caught David’s attention that she held onto the backs of chairs for support along the way. Mama seemed shaky. What was going on with her? Should I ask again? No, she’d dodged the question already; it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

  His attention turned back to his friend and his son. Should he ask Alex about it? Eric hung on Alex’s arm and they shared another cookie. The sight warmed David’s heart and gave him tingles he didn’t want to think about. No, now was not the time. We can discuss it later.

  “Buddy, we’ve got to get home.”

  “Come on, you can—” Alex’s phone rang, interrupting the thought. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He stepped away from the table.

  “Time for us to beat a hasty retreat.” At the coat check, David helped Eric with his coat and scarf and Mama kissed them both goodbye. His own mother was already driving away. No moss grew on her.

  “You two come by anytime. I love seeing you.” She handed the young boy a to-go bag.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  Her eyes twinkled. “Cookies, to take home.”

  “Mama,” he said with a groan.

  “Thank you!” Eric hugged her again.

  David was sunk. He could hardly refuse them, so he’d just have to ration them out. Since he took custody of the boy, he was diligent in watching what they both ate, trying to make up for earlier neglect. Though some days were better than others, they avoided too many cheat days. But the holidays were coming, with sugary delights on the horizon. They left with his son humming and his own head swimming.

  Chapter Ten

  A Little Respect

  “Can you do it?” Tandi peered at him over her paperwork.

  Alex sat across the desk from her in the Midtown office. He poured over the function sheets for the CYA Christmas party. Everything was pretty straightforward but the decor was a fright. Who approved this? It didn’t match what he thought they were going for at all.

  “I can certainly execute the plan.”

  Tandi’s eyes widened at his implied qualification. “But?”

  Flipping through the BEO, he frowned. “The aesthetic gives me pause. It’s striking, but I’m not sure it comports well with the aims of your group. Can I inspect the venue?”

  “Of course, I’ll text you the address.”

  “Here’s my email.” Fingers danced over his tablet as he replied to her text. “Send me everything you have on the party, please.”

  “So, you’re taking this on?”

  “Definitely, I’m spinning my wheels at the restaurant and this gives me something to do.”

  With a clap of her hands, she leaned back in her chair. “This is the best news I’ve had this week. After you being back in town, that is.”

  “It must be a slow week.”

  “It’s always slow in Edgedale.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “That I remember.” He grabbed his coat and moved to the door. Madeline was waiting for him. “You’re right on top of it, aren’t you?”

  “That’s part of the job.” Madeline led him to the elevator.

  An hour later he stood in the room at the address Tandi gave him. The security guard on the first floor had a key waiting. Three floors up—that was not good—and it lay in a nondescript office building in Midtown.

  Folding tables and plastic chairs were stacked in a corner. He wondered who selected it. No style, at all. There were the remains of a frowny face drawn on the foggy window. Tracing over it, he made its frown a smile.

  At the door he looked back into the room. It was boring and sterile. Not the place for a Christmas party unless you didn’t like your employees. They needed a new space.

  In the lobby he stopped for coffee and pondered what to do. This was Coop’s baby. Before he made any decisions, he should talk to him.

  He looked up at the oversized clock on the wall, trimmed in garland. David was probably at work. Should I call? No, this felt like something he should do in person. Edgedale Medical Center sat off Route 32 on the south side of town, just opposite the Quarter—only a few minutes away. He wanted to get a move on this, now.

  Traffic was worse than he thought, certainly more than he remembered from high school. So it was almost half an hour before he walked through the automatic front doors of the EMC.

  They began building this complex the year he graduated from high school, but he never saw its completion. It was impressive.

  He walked through the festively decorated lobby and around the large Christmas tree to the information desk. A concierge and a nurse stood there chatting. The attendant was an older woman, petite and bubbly. She smiled at his approach, but the nurse eyed him warily. She was attractive but severe. She sported a frosted A-line bob and had sharp green eyes. Everything was in place, but it was too perfect, as if the wardrobe department had her pressed and dressed seconds ago. Her entire affect was exacting. He was sure he’d never used that adjective about a living person before.

  “Hello, I’m here to see David Cooper,” he said in the smooth voice he reserved for clients and guests. “He works here?”

  The nurse arched a sharp eyebrow. “I know him. May I help you?”

  “My name is Alex Capili. I’m an old friend of his.”

  She scrutinized him, making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. “So, you’re the childhood friend? You’re all I’ve heard about this week.”

  He tilted his head. “He told you about me?” That was interesting, and it sent a little thrill down his leg. Calm down.

  The nurse’s face flashed with a practiced joviality. “Hello, I’m Zooey Chandler.” She held her hand out and he shook it.

  “That’s a good handshake you have.” He flinched.

  She looked him up and down again. “And how can we help you?”

  He definitely felt like a bug and wondered at the inspection. Who was she and why did she care? “I was hoping to have a word with David. Do you know where I might find him?”

  “Absolutely.” She pivoted and strode away. He was about to say something when she gave a little wave over her shoulder. “Right this way. He’s doing rounds but he should be almost done.”

  She turned to share a smile with the concierge. What was that about? He found himself struggling to keep up. He lived in New York City—walking fast was what you did—but her clip astonished him.

  “And how long are you visiting?”

  “Until just after the first . . . David mentioned me being in town?” Huh . . . It made him smile. He talks about me!

  “Oh, yes, he tells me everything.” She pressed the button for the elevator. “We’re very close.”

  Oh, that explains it. They must be friends. He bounced on his heels. “How long have you worked together?” Alex didn’t want to engage her, but not saying anything felt awkward. And if she was a friend of Coop’s, maybe he should put in an effort.

  She crossed her arms in front of her. “For over a year, since I transferred from County General.”

  “That long?” He didn’t intend to sound sarcastic, but he saw her stiffen.

  “Aren’t you the friend that left town without saying goodbye?” She stepped on
to the elevator.

  “He said that?” Alex croaked. He knew David still held some bitterness about his leaving, but to tell someone that? They needed to talk.

  She pressed the floor for the ward. “I told you, we’re very close.”

  Possessive much? He rolled his eyes and didn’t hide the sarcasm. “Well, good for you.” She was marking her territory. I got it, loud and clear. This was a friend of David’s? She’s scary.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brave

  “Why isn’t this a good thing?” his mother asked. “He works in catering. I’m sure he can manage our little function.”

  David heard her typing on her computer while she talked with him over speakerphone. The hospital-issued phone in his free hand, he rolled the cart to the nurses’ station. “I’m just afraid he’ll run off like he did before.”

  “That’s hardly fair,” she said. “He’s different. We’re all different.”

  Doctor Webber walked by. She held up her finger to her lips with a shhh, then disappeared into a patient’s room. Was he that loud?

  “I know, but . . .” David whispered. “I’m just concerned.”

  “Then talk to him about it,” she demanded.

  “It’s not that easy.” He opened a shelf on the cart and straightened up the contents.

  She exhaled sharply. “Yes, it is. Besides, this is important to Claire as well. Alex’d hardly run out on us.”

  “But I’m going to have to work with him, a lot.” He slammed the shelf shut. He was glad Alex was back and it was good to see him, but he left town in a huff years ago and that still stung.

  “That must be terrible for you.”

  He paused and leaned against the wall. “Are you teasing me?”

  “A little, and if I recall, you said it was mostly coordinating at this point.”

  “And you said it’s ‘more involved,’ and it’s Alex. And our history and—”

  “You don’t want to work with him?” Her voice grew concerned.

  “No, I do—I really do. I’ve missed him, but it’s just awkward and—” Zooey picked that moment to round the corner in front of him with Alex close behind. “It’s Alex.”

  “So you said,” Tandi agreed.

  She was enjoying this! It was infuriating. He covered the receiver with his hand in a futile attempt to shield his voice. “No, he’s here.”

  Tandi tittered. “Who is?”

  “Alex,” he hissed. “Gotta go.” Ending the call, David tried to act nonchalant, putting his arm up on the wall and throwing the patented straight-boy head nod. “Hey, what’s up?”

  This seemed to amuse Alex, and that was not what he was going for. He pulled his arm down and folded both in front of him. Be cool. Be cool.

  “Your mother gave me the address of the space for the party.” Alex’s eyes sparkled. “So, I went and checked it out.”

  “That’s good.” David leaned forward. “And what do you think?”

  He scrunched up his face. “I hate it. It’s too cold—”

  “Too sterile.”

  Alex nodded with a toothy smile. “It needs to be homey.”

  “Cozy.” He ran a hand over his forehead and blew out a deep breath. “I’m so glad you said that. I hated it, too.”

  Zooey followed their back-and-forth with a frown. David barely registered that she was still there as Alex pulled the tablet from his messenger bag and swiped a hand across the screen. David watched him, pleased with his interest. He saw .pdf documents on the tablet’s display.

  “We should find a new spot.” His finger ran down the screen and Alex frowned at his device, then glanced up. “Are you okay with that?”

  “I’m already hot on the trail.”

  “Really? You didn’t mention that,” Zooey said. The two men turned to her in unison, remembering she was there. Putting a hand on her hip, she stuck out her chin. “When we talked earlier, you didn’t say anything.”

  “And you’re very close.” Alex shook his head slightly, then turned his focus back to David. “There may be a penalty in the contract, but it’ll be worth it if we find the right space.”

  “This is important,” he agreed.

  “Yes, it is a worthy cause.” Alex bent back to his tablet.

  “And my boss is coming with his wife and I want to impress him.” David felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “I’m angling for a promotion to nursing supervisor.”

  Alex’s eyes darted to his. “I get it. I mean, there’s no shame in wanting to better yourself.” He slid the tablet into his bag. “Sorry for just showing up, but I don’t have your number.”

  “Oh, yeah, here you go.” David texted Alex his contact information. “My mother gave me your number, and by the way? You can always just show up.” David wondered why he said that. It was true, but he always seemed to have diarrhea of the mouth when Alex was around.

  “What?” Zooey squawked, but they ignored her this time.

  “Really?” Alex’s eyes went wide.

  “Dude, of course you can. I’ve known you since we were kids.” David gave him a punch in the arm. “Besides, you’re taking on the party. You’ve kinda got free rein at the moment.”

  “Wait, he is?” Zooey asked, and they turned to her again. She shrank back a half-step. “He’s talking over the party?”

  “Yes, he is.” David eyed her. Why did she care? She had nothing to do with the CYA.

  “But I thought—”

  An incoming text pinged, and Alex checked his phone. “That’s me. I have to go. Work to do—”

  “Worlds to conquer?” David finished.

  “Yeah, something like that . . .” Alex’s eyes went up and down him like searchlights. He reached over and smoothed the V-neck of David’s hospital scrubs. His fingertips grazed the golden hairs that peaked out. “It really does suit you.”

  Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world fell away. Alex’s phone chirped again, breaking the spell. “I really have to go, but we’ll talk soon.”

  As he watched him walk away, David absently touched his chest where his friend’s hand had lain. Halfway down the hall Alex looked back, and a piece of David exulted when he did. I may be in trouble.

  Zooey stared daggers at him and, shaking her head, stormed off in the opposite direction.

  Well, that’s not good.

  Chapter Twelve

  Closer

  That evening, after shutting the doors, Alex helped Papa Capili put the chairs on top of the tables in the restaurant dining room. The closing servers, Justin and Maria, polished silverware at the lone table still set up in the dining room. Mama sat with them, folding napkins for the next day’s service.

  Papa turned a chair upside down and sat it on the table, its back hanging over the side. He limped over and patted his nephew on the shoulder as he passed him. “It’s still early. Shouldn’t you be out doing something?”

  “Are you okay, Tiyo?” Alex watched him move, with concern.

  “No, I’m not. I’m getting old,” Papa said. “Now you? You go out, go do something.”

  Alex held his hands up. “What would I do? I came to visit you, not run the streets.”

  “Most of what you’ve done is work here.” The older man pointed to his favorite table by the bar.

  “You need to take it easy,” he protested. “I’m here to help.”

  The older man scowled. “We have a full staff, Pilyo. Go out. Go see David.”

  “Papa, stop.”

  His uncle sighed. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn.”

  Truth was, he wasn’t sure himself. He certainly wouldn’t mind seeing David again, and they did need to talk and clear the air.

  As Papa trundled off to the office, Alex walked to the bar. He grabbed his messenger bag and joined his aunt and the servers at their table.

  Mama finished her stack of napkins and pushed them aside. Taking out her yarn and knitting needles, she set to work. She hummed along with the Rat Pack Christmas music
playing through the restaurant. Papa loved that channel.

  “Where’s Bonnie?” he asked.

  “She’s doing the evening paperwork in the office with Papa,” Justin said.

  Alex’s forehead puckered. “She does that now?” Bonnie always loved working here, but he’d no idea she’d taken on a managerial role.

  Mama gave a half-smile. “She’s such a blessing.”

  Alex pulled a folder from his bag and picked through the paperwork for the CYA Christmas party. He rubbed his eyes. “The longer I study these designs, the worse they get. I can’t believe they were going in this direction.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re here to save the day, Mijo,” Mama teased, making Justin and Maria smirk. They knew her well.

  He gave them a side-eye. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Maria let her dark hair down and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “And I’m sure David appreciates it.” Mama smirked.

  “I hate all of you.” He gave them an exasperated glare. He knew his aunt was only thinking of him, but she had a blind spot where Coop was concerned. He didn’t blame her. David was a good man, just not the man for him. A fact made clear when he rejected him years ago.

  They were getting on well—even close to flirting in the hospital—but they always got on well. It meant nothing. Keep telling yourself that.

  Bonnie returned from the office with a deposit bag in hand and sat across from him. She picked up one of the function sheets for the Christmas party.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Hard copies? You? Really?”

  “Most of my work is done electronically now, but hard copies are nice. They give a project weight. Make it real.” He held up a clenched hand.

  Scanning the sheets, she arched an eyebrow. “You’re redesigning the concept?”

  “I am.” He wondered why she sounded skeptical.

  She gave him a hard look. “It’s a little late. Did you get approval for that?”

  “Yes, I did. It won’t affect the food from Capili’s, only the decor. What’s the pro—” He felt his cheeks redden but stopped himself and took a deep breath.