Page 125 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Oh, honey. The kids see these on TV. So you don’t have kids?”
“No, although I’d like to someday.” This was the first time she’d actually thought about that. “I don’t have a husband.”
“Hmm. Imagine that. A beautiful girl like you.”
While she stood there, Victoria’s mind whirred like one of the overhead fans. “Can anyone buy these? You know, donate them?”
But Phyllis was studying Dr. D.’s closed door. When she jerked and turned, a light went on in her eyes “Oh, shugga, of course.”
“Do you mind if I take some of them from the tree?”
But Phyllis hesitated. “As long as you come back with a gift for every Christmas Wish, I don’t care who buys it.”
Being very careful, Victoria began removing the ornaments from the tree. “I’m going to put them on the tree in my shop.”
Turning, she ran smack into Dr. D. His chest was firm and his flannel shirt felt soft. Sucking in a breath, she nearly dropped her construction paper ornaments.
“Got time for a coffee break?” he raised his mug.
“S-sure.” She had trouble getting the word out. He was asking her to have coffee. Did this count as a date? Sort of. Maybe.
Grabbing one of the heavy mugs, she filled it, added cream and followed him into his office. This was getting more and more interesting.
While he perched on the edge of his banged-up desk, she took a chair. Sitting straight up like her mama taught her, she wondered what was up.
“So how are you coming along?”
“Are you asking me to leave?” Disappointment gutted her.
“What?” His gray eyes warmed. “No. I’m just asking a question.”
This sure felt like a job interview, not a pseudo date. She took a sip of her coffee feeling that a lot depended on her answer. “I'm enjoying it.”
He chuckled and the robust sound wiggled right down into her tummy or there about. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“How do you do it?” Victoria asked. “How do you work here in the morning and then go to the urgent care center?”
“Oh, I manage.” He ran a hand over his tired eyes.
How could a man be gorgeous all rumpled like this? The first time she’d noticed his red-rimmed eyes, she figured he’d been partying hard the night before. But Phyllis told her that Dr. D didn't drink.
“Don't you get tired? How can you work all those hours?”
Swirling his mug, he seemed to search the depths of his coffee. “I love what I do. Does that sound weird?” He looked up.
“Not at all. I enjoy my shop in Sweetwater Creek. I don’t want to work anywhere if I’m not feeling good about it.”
His brow wrinkled. “That's right. I forgot. You’re a Pomeroy.” The way he said it, her family name sounded like a disease.
Forgetting Mama’s words, she slumped against the chair. “Ouch. That hurts.”
“Sorry, Victoria.” But the words came slowly as if she pulled it out of him. “I only meant that you have a lot of resources at your disposal. You and your family have access to a doctor. A place to sleep at night.”
“I sleep right above my business.” Even she heard her haughty tone.
“So do I.” For a second she thought Dr. D. might give her a high five.
But she wanted to straighten this out. “Look, I can't pretend I know all about… being poor. Without resources, however you put it. But I'm trying to learn.”
