Doctor Holliday (Doctors of Eastport General)

Chapter 6

Friday, December 8th

Keaton

Alyssa hadn’t ripped into him about the kid in his stockroom, much to his surprise. Then again, the days of Alyssa riding his ass about the way he breathed or the way he held his fork or the way he made scrambled eggs had mostly ended a while ago. Not exactly with the divorce; she had still been apt to lay into him about just about any damned thing even a year or two after the divorce was finalized.

Now it was kind of random.

Which was almost worse. His ex-wife shouldn’t have a reason to dig those damned proverbial claws into him now, but she did now and then. Keaton was a good dad; they shared custody of Ruby. Hell, Ruby was his life. Everything he did now was about his little girl. He paid child support—always on time. Helped Ruby with schoolwork. Played pitch and catch with her. Took her to extracurricular events. And yet, now and then, Alyssa would throw a sucker punch at him and tear him a new asshole because he had a taillight out in his truck. Or because he had called her sister a witch seventeen years ago in a long-forgotten screaming match. Long forgotten to him anyway.

When he called last night, after bringing the doctor back to her SUV and then driving home, he fully expected Alyssa to unload on him. About calling her for Dr. Holliday’s number rather than just calling 911. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if his ex would have launched into how he was a terrible person because his stockroom wasn’t set up for delivering a baby.

The only thing he knew she would never accuse him of was hurting a child. Any child.

This was his weekend with Ruby, so he would pick her up after school. Ruby had asked him to make fried chicken for her tonight. Alyssa had done the lion’s share of the cooking when they were married, but Keaton knew his way around the kitchen. He had promised Ruby fried chicken if she promised to eat the vegetable he fixed. Her promise was punctuated by a few giggles, so Keaton assumed she had crossed her fingers and had no intention of eating any asparagus.

“Not open yet!” he called when the front door of the store opened. No bell alerted him to the visitor. No muted electronic chime. But he could tell from the shift in the air and the sound of traffic getting louder for a moment that the door had been opened.

“Hey.”

He looked up from the long fluorescent bulb over the counter when he heard the familiar voice. Lucy Holliday offered him a smile as she made her way to the customer service counter. Dressed in scrubs, she carried two paper coffee cups and held one out in offering to him as she approached the counter.

“Hi.” Keaton smiled and took the cup. “What’s this for?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Last night.”

“You did the heavy lifting,” he reminded her.

Lucy laughed and rested her cup on the counter.

“Still. I appreciate that you helped. That you called me rather than insisting on 911 when she was clearly distressed about it.”

Keaton lifted the cup, but he hesitated before he drank.

“Plain black,” she told him. “Wasn’t sure how you take it.”

“Plain black,” he said with a smile. He took a small sip and swallowed the scalding hot liquid quickly.

“Also wanted to thank you for understanding I couldn’t give you any information last night.”

Keaton sighed and lifted his gaze to the front window of the store. “Not my business. I just…” He cleared his throat. “Makes me feel helpless.”

“I know.” Lucy nodded. “So.” She looked at the ladder over his shoulder and climbed the rungs with her eyes.

“This is what I was planning to do last night when I found her.” He tipped his head back to look at the dark area just above his head. “Not sure how a bulb goes out that quickly, but here we are.”

“When do you officially open?” She looked around the store but landed her gaze back on him.

“Ribbon cutting and all that crap is next Friday, but I might do a soft opening earlier in the week.”

“All that crap,” she repeated with a grin. “A guy that opens a store like this…” She swept her gaze over the shelves stocked with home décor items, a lot of which Keaton had hand made himself, before looking at him again. “Probably gets into all that crap .”

He laughed and leaned into the counter.

“Not so much,” he argued. “I like nice things. I like working with wood.” The words felt a little charged as he spoke them. He wasn’t sure from the smile on her face if she heard the double entendre, but he mentally berated himself for phrasing it that way. “Not so much into a spotlight.”

“Still.” She shrugged. “It’ll bring attention to your place. You’ll need that in the beginning. Did you have a store front before?”

“No.” He took another drink of the coffee and put the cup down. “I have a shop at my house where I do the work. Sold some stuff from home now and then. I have an online store front. But this whole retail thing is new to me.”

“What made you decide to do it?”

Keaton eyed her quietly for a moment, wondering if she was truly interested or just being polite.

“I worked in an office setting for years. IT. Turned forty this last year and decided to give it a shot. It’s something…my ex-wife and I talked about when we were younger. She’s an artist. She wanted a place for her work.”

Lucy sipped her own drink and aimed wide eyes at him over the top of her cup.

“Do you have her artwork here?”

“No.” He grinned. “Maybe someday. Maybe not.”

She chuckled softly, eyebrows hiked as if to suggest she understood what he meant. Rather than respond, she moseyed over to an endcap of Christmas wreaths.

“Is it all your work?”

“No.”

She wandered down an aisle, fingers trailing over the tiny wooden furniture for dollhouses. Once upon a time, Ruby had been into dolls and dollhouses, which is what got him started down that path. When she had grown out of that faze—way too quickly in his opinion—he had continued crafting them and selling them online. These in the store were holiday related, because what spoiled little girl wouldn’t want her dolls’ house decorated for Christmas?

“I’ll have to come back when I don’t need to be at the office,” she announced as she turned back to him.

“I hope you do.” He stepped out from behind the counter to walk her to the door. “First purchase is on the house.”

“You’re not gonna make any money that way.” She looked up at him as they crossed back to the front of the store.

Keaton tucked his hands in the hip pockets of his jeans as they neared the door. He grinned and offered her a one-shouldered shrug.

“Not every day a Christmas miracle happens in your stockroom.”

“Hardly a miracle.” She scrunched her nose up and shook her head.

“A doctor with the name Holliday shows up in time to deliver a healthy baby and help a young girl. Christmas music playing in the background. Kind of miraculous to me.”

Lucy drew in a deep breath and looked out the front window at the parking lot. Tiny snowflakes blew on a cold wind out there. In the store, it was warm. Keaton hadn’t turned on the music yet, but it felt cozy here standing by her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“For what?”

She dipped her head and studied her cup, her brows furrowed in a deep frown.

“Reminding me that what I do matters.”

“Um—” He snapped his mouth closed when she held up a hand.

“No, I get it. It does. Of course it does.” She nodded and looked up at him again, a faint smile on her face. “But I’ve been doing this for years. And sometimes, rather than a miracle, it’s my job.”