isPc
isPad
isPhone
Doctor Holliday (Doctors of Eastport General) Chapter 18 86%
Library Sign in

Chapter 18

Friday, December 22 nd

Keaton

He didn’t realize he was singing along with Darlene Love until the customer browsing the Christmas ornaments at the front of the store looked his way for the third or fourth time. Keaton knew he wasn’t a good singer, but he thought the holiday season would give anyone a free pass. Apparently not.

Lucy had called earlier. They planned to take Callie and Ruby out for dinner tomorrow night and then take a drive through the Eastport Lights. Part of him wondered if Callie was too old for it, if she would be bored. But then, again, it was the holiday season, and most people enjoyed the festive things.

“Find everything you were looking for?” he asked the woman as she set two intricate glass ornaments on the counter. With her chin tipped down, all Keaton could see of the woman was her dark hair, the way it fell forward around her face. She seemed to hesitate, her hands stilling as she dug through her purse. Finally, when he was just about to ask her if everything was okay, she tipped her head up to look at him.

She stared at him silently for a moment. Keaton wasn’t sure if she was angry or sad or a miserable mixed-up bit of both. But her face certainly didn’t reflect the holiday season. He cleared his throat. Lucy had invited him to dinner at her brother and sister-in-law’s house for Christmas Day. If he were going to have Ruby, he would have said no. But Ruby would be spending Christmas Day with Alyssa and her husband. And Keaton had no interest in being alone, not after Lucy’s invite.

Funny. Hard to remember not everyone was happy like he was. Not everyone enjoyed the holidays. In fact, depression was common around Christmastime, and the winter blues were real. He knew that from his own experience at the end of his marriage to Alyssa.

Not everyone was floating around on cloud nine either. Not like him. Damned if he would admit that to Alyssa or Ruby, but Keaton was high on Lucy. He loved the idea of spending Christmas Day with her. Even the thought of meeting her family didn’t bother him. Actually, he looked forward to it.

But, he reminded himself again as the woman continued to stare, not everyone was happy, in love, and ready to spend the holidays with friends and family.

“Are you the owner?”

“I am.” He nodded, wondering if something had soured the woman during her visit here at his store this afternoon. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m Logan Klein’s stepmother.”

“Oh.” He flinched. The disapproving frown on her face made him feel guilty, probably digging the flinch into his face even deeper. “How’s she doing?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. I haven’t seen her since the night…” Uncomfortable with the conversation, he cleared his throat. “Since the night the baby was born.”

“I’ve heard you’re dating the doctor who delivered the baby.”

Whoa. Talk about gossip. How would she know that? Alyssa? Did it matter?

“I am.” He nodded. “But we don’t talk about work.”

Sure, Keaton was happy to tell Lucy about record sales days, but never once had he asked about Logan or the baby. Lucy couldn’t share any information with him, and he suspected asking her would make her feel uncomfortable.

They had damned near burned through the box of condoms already. Keaton would buy up another twenty boxes if Lucy stuck around, though the thought of actually being official, of announcing that they were a thing, made him want to do away with protection. He couldn’t have more children. Lucy didn’t want more children. Contraception wasn’t an issue. Keaton had no interest in being with anyone else, and he was reasonably sure Lucy didn’t either.

He would show her love and respect until she was ready to commit to the thing they continued to call simply something bigger .

The woman sighed. “Thank you. For…” She looked around the counter, as if she might find a script on what to say to him. “For helping Logan that night.”

Tongue-tied, Keaton nodded.

“She’s had a rough time with her father and I together. She and I aren’t close. It’s ugly for her.”

“I only did what anyone else would have done.”

“That’s not true, Mr. Thatcher.” The woman shook her head. “Logan told us. You respected her wishes and didn’t call the ambulance right away.”

“We did call an ambulance, though.”

“I know. But you waited. Until the baby was here. Maybe that’s backwards, but I think it was exactly what Logan needed.”

Keaton sighed and nodded. He reached for one of the ornaments. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s getting some help,” the woman answered. Keaton wouldn’t ask what kind of help. He simply nodded, thankful to hear it.

“And the baby?”

“She was placed for adoption.”

The words were a knife in his heart. Good and bad. He said a silent prayer that the baby would be blessed with parents to care for her and that Logan would come out of the ordeal healed and as happy as she could be.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said quietly. “I hope it’s what’s best for both of them.”

“Fourteen-year-old kids have no business raising babies.”

Keaton had a lot he wanted to say in response, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Thank you. For coming in,” he told her as he rang up her purchase. “But you should thank Dr. Holliday. She did the hard stuff. Well, no, actually, I think Logan did the hard stuff.”

“I did talk to Dr. Holliday.” The woman nodded. “She’s actually the one who told me you’re involved.”

“Oh.”

“She said you were a rock that night.”

Keaton simply stared at her, overcome with emotion. The whole situation had been harrowing—from finding a young girl writhing in pain, helping to deliver a baby in his stockroom, and getting the girl and the baby to the hospital safely. And yet, if Logan hadn’t stumbled into his unlocked stockroom, he might never have met Lucy Holliday.

He wrapped the glass ornaments in tissue paper and placed them gently in the bag. But he caught himself before he could wish her a Merry Christmas. It seemed a bit tone-deaf to say something like that when her family was going through a difficult time, and he knew only the bare minimum of their story.

“It won’t be a Merry Christmas for us, Mr. Thatcher,” the woman told him as she took the bag from him. It was as if she could read his mind. “But maybe we’ll get back to that eventually.”

“I hope so,” he said sincerely.

“Happy holidays to you and your family.”

Chapter List
Display Options
Background
Size
A-