Page 102 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Oh my gosh. Do they light up?” Victoria stepped back.
“You bet.” Smiling, Genevieve plugged them in and flashes of pink were reflected on her face. “I don’t bother with a tree anymore but now I can enjoy my flamingos right here.”
By this time Melinda Sue was opening a box. Under the whisper of tissue sat several plump angel ornaments. Aiming for a strategic balance, Victoria and Melinda Sue hung them on thetree. The angels were too cute with their sparkling halos, filmy wings and white yarn for their skirts.
That’s all it took. Soon everyone was bringing ornaments they’d cherished in the past. Many of the new additions had been discovered on trips and told a story that the owner was happy to relate. The Irish shamrocks still reminded Patricia of her trip to kiss the Blarney Stone long ago. Hawaiian girls with leis took Herbert and Gisele back to their honeymoon in Maui. The tree was becoming a trip back in history.
Josie dug into the box of decorations her parents had left when they retired to Florida. Not only did she bring hand-painted ornaments, she also found a string of bubble lights shaped like candles.
Business was booming. Victoria and Maisy put their heads together to order more thumbprints, anise cookies, gingerbread men and, of course, Santas and Christmas trees. Any housewife who didn't have time to bake stopped in for boxes of goodies for cookie exchanges and school programs. Morning brunches called for fruitcakes and braided almond pastries filled with ricotta cheese. The phone orders kept Maisy and Darla busy. The cash register rang and Victoria’s hopes for a great Christmas rose.
As orders came in, so did advice for her eye. Cold compresses or warm compresses? Vitamin C or vitamin E? On the third day after her accident, she carefully removed the tape and gauze. The redness was gone. She blinked at herself in the mirror, grateful that she could see again. A few drops and a little eye makeup and she was good to go. Her customers’ sympathy was well intended. But that wasn't getting her any closer to Dr. Darling.
How was she going to get back to that urgent care facility?
She began researching reasons why people needed emergency care that weren’t too serious. Quickly, she clickedthrough anything that involved bleeding. The sight of blood made her faint. Anything more to do with her eyes felt dangerous. She kept scrolling. For a second she considered slamming one finger in a car door. But she had so much trouble deciding which finger could be sacrificed that she moved along.
Same thing for bruises. She could hurt herself trying to get one.
Skidding through the door of Victoria’s office, Maisy came to a stop.
Victoria flipped her laptop shut. “What is it?”
“We ran out of spritz cookies.” Maisy smiled. It wasn’t even noon.
“Great problem to have. Go ahead.” And she nodded her head toward the hallway that led back to the kitchen and the huge freezer.
The bell out front kept ringing as Maisy trotted past with trays that smelled heavenly. Boy, was Victoria glad that the holidays were coming. Thanksgiving had been great and now she’d have Christmas. Daddy would be so proud.
But back to plotting.
The last time she’d driven past the urgent care center, she’d noticed a different man behind the desk in a white coat. The light bounced off his thinning hair. What was this? Did Dr. Darling work there part time? She’d have to do more research. Closing her office door, she gave the urgent care center a call. Just in case Betsy answered, Victoria held her nose to disguise her voice,
“Could I please speak to Dr. Darling?” Her business-like tone sounded nasal but okay.
“Dr. Darling isn’t here right now.” Yes, this was Betsy. “He starts at seven.”
“Night shift?” she murmured. Great information.
“Can I give him a message?”
“No need. I'm just calling to see if he'd be interested in a timeshare in Florida…”
Man, that phone slammed down so fast, the noise almost punctured Victoria’s eardrums. Good for Betsy, protecting her physician.
All kinds of scenarios played in her head as Victoria ate some of Emily’s pasta salad for dinner. Taking her plate, she walked through her gleaming gray and white kitchen to the front windows. Down in the square, the lights had gone on. Everything looked magical from the trees and bushes to the fountain and the gazebo. She had to laugh when she thought of cutting off those branches. She hoped the sheared edges didn’t show.
After downing her pasta salad and taking a sip of soda, she went to freshen her makeup before slipping into her green cashmere sweater and black slacks. The black leather jacket was a nice touch and so was the necklace holding seven pearls that her parents had given her.
Catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror, she thought she looked pretty darn hot. Show time. Grabbing her Gucci bag, she trotted down to her car and the awesome red convertible that everyone in town coveted. Unfortunately, tonight she couldn't put the top down. No way did she want to ruin her hair.
Turning her radio to the Christmas Every Day station, she sang “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” all the way to the urgent care center. Her loneliness was steam-rolled by her determined Christmas cheer. When she arrived, she pulled in, happy to see only one other car out front. Deciding to do a little detective work, she slowly circled around to the back, where only three cars were parked. The old sedan and the sedate station wagon weren’t his. She’d bet on it. But the dark green jeep? Oh, yeah. The vehicle oozed masculinity. Dr. Hot Stuffratcheted up on her hotness meter. She parked on the side of the building, near his Jeep.
Checking the rearview mirror, she fluffed her bangs, added more lip gloss and a tad more cream blush. Okay she was ready. Squeezing her eyes shut, she went through what she’d rehearsed at home. Piece of cake. Didn’t all men like helpless women?
Getting out of the car, she walked in, her heels clicking on the walkway. In the corner of the waiting room sat a tree, nicely decorated in medium size ornaments. With her eye injury, she hadn’t noticed the tree on her last visit.
The receptionist looked up and Victoria quickly clapped a hand to the back of her head. Thankfully, the woman behind the desk was not the same one from her earlier visit.
