Grumpy Doctor’s Holiday Twins (Forbidden Doctors #17)

8. Ethan

8

ETHAN

" I know, Mom. I'm so sorry." I coughed for dramatic effect and made it sound really genuine. A decade of listening to sick patients' coughs taught me how they sounded.

"Oh, but Ethan, your brothers will be so disappointed. Are you sure you can't just wear a mask or something?" Leave it to her to say something like that. I still wasn't going to go.

"No, Mom. it's better for Rick's kids if I just stay home. I have to go, okay?" I faked a coughing fit and she very ungraciously said her goodbyes before I hung up. I'd left the book Luke wanted with them earlier this week when I stopped by after work. Dad was the only one home, and he didn't even want to small talk.

The call went about how I expected it to and lasted only a minute longer than I thought it would. I had a microwave lasagna cooking, and I sat on the barstool in my kitchen staring at the dish spinning round and round behind the tinted glass. It wasn't an ideal Thanksgiving meal, but it was alone and peaceful—two things I needed tonight.

I told Mom I'd make it up to her at Christmas, but I knew in my heart I'd be in Europe training and ready to board my flight to Africa by then. I was banking on one of those two good candidates John found to be "The One" and fill the spot so I could get back to my routine, though I did finally check out of that hotel and bring my things back here.

I hadn't been completely alone on Thanksgiving in my entire life, but this year was different. Before I joined Doctors Without Borders, I spent my holidays with my parents. While I was with them, the staff always had a meal, because though not all of us were from the States, all of us were away from family. We became like family this time of year, and it was a good sense of comradery.

The doorbell rang, which again was a surprise. I knew it would be John. There was no way any of my family would have gotten across town that quickly. I'd only just told Mom I wouldn't be there and everyone was already waiting on me. And after that interaction decorating on Sunday, there was no way it was Melody. I was as cold as ice to her. I saw the pain in her eyes.

With a glance at the timer on the microwave, I stood and strolled to the door. There was no point in ignoring it. John knew I was in here. I'd already confessed to him my plan to ditch my family holiday the other evening when he stopped by. The saga of Mom vs. Ethan had started well before college and continued to this day. John said he understood, but sometimes I wondered if he did. He was so close with his family, and it really affected him when his mom died.

I swung the door open expecting him to have a six-pack, which would pair nicely with my lasagna, but he was empty handed and his car was running.

"Ethan, my man… Can I come in?" He moved toward me, so I backed up.

"Uh, yeah?" I glanced out the door at his waiting vehicle, but he was clearly on a mission. "Need something?"

"Yes, I do. I need you to get in the car with me. I'm headed to Mel's house for dinner and I refuse to let you dine alone." He held both hands up, palms outward, as I tried to protest and continued. "I know how sucky your family is at times and why you don't want to go there, but you're my best friend. It's the holidays."

I left the door standing open and huffed out a sigh. My perfect plans for a lonely lasagna dinner and drinking myself into oblivion were being encroached upon and I wasn't happy about it.

"I appreciate the offer, man, but I just want to chill. I mean, give the family my love, though." I rested my hand on the doorknob so he'd get the point, but he stayed put and didn't budge.

When the microwave dinged, he looked toward the kitchen and scowled. "A TV dinner? On Thanksgiving?" His eyebrows rose in a gentle reprimand, and I shrugged.

"Not exactly. It's lasagna." I jammed my hands into the pockets of my slacks and grimaced.

"Okay, it's time for a friend intervention. Get your shoes and your coat and get in the car." He pointed out the open door where my precious heat was escaping, and I got the point. I didn't want to upset him. John was the only friend I had left, and I had to respect his wishes or risk frustrating him enough that I had no friend at all anymore.

I left the lasagna in the microwave and slid my shoes on. With my jacket draped over my arm, I climbed into his SUV and buckled up. Fifteen minutes later, we were parked in front of a very nice new apartment complex on the east side of town. There were only a few things in Mistletoe that had changed and this was one of them. Thanks to a wealthy investor in the town down the road, the need for housing in the area was higher than normal and a few new housing developments had sprouted up.

When John opened the door to the apartment, I heard the racket of children playing and Melody singing Christmas carols with her father. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the entire atmosphere to be swarmed with overly holiday-esque themes. At least in the tropical climates, I didn't have to deal with this much "holiday spirit."

"Look what the cat dragged in," Melody commented, and she smiled at me. "Ethan, I had no idea John was bringing you. Come on in." She gestured at the table, set full of food, and turned toward the cupboard where I watched her pull out another plate.

"He was lonely and I invited him to come by," John explained as he shed his coat.

I looked at the children, who seemed happy to be playing with bulbs off Melody's beautiful Christmas tree. She always did have a knack for decorating. It was a good idea to put her in charge of the children’s unit.

"We have plenty of space," Mr. Winters said casually as he rolled his wheelchair over to me. I shed my coat and hung it next to John's on the back of a chair, then shook his father's hand.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure being invited." The comment was unconscious. It was most definitely not a pleasurable thing, but it was rude to say otherwise.

We all sat down, though John helped Melody corral the kids. They seemed young, maybe two years old, but smart for their age. She'd been gone for four years, which meant whoever the poor guy was whom she was no longer dating had to have only been with her less than a year. She probably got him on the rebound from me, or maybe she really did have a one-night stand.

"Let's eat," she announced and handed John a knife and a meat fork to carve the turkey. We fell into a natural conversation about politics and the state of the world. John's father offered some powerful insights, and then the conversation shifted to his late wife and fond memories. I felt a bit out of place as they all remembered her and I had nothing to add to the conversation.

And when John was three beers deep and everyone started sharing what they were thankful for, I felt uneasy. Being around Melody was hard enough, but when she talked about how thankful she was for her twins and how they changed her life for the good, how she was thankful to be back in this little Christmas town, I felt frustrated and upset. I wanted to ask why she wasn't ever thankful for me and why I hadn’t been worth a goodbye. But I bit my tongue.

I focused on the little boy seated to my right who had dumped some of the juice out of his sippy cup and was mixing his mashed potatoes in it. The meal was almost over and I had made it most of the way through without being too grumpy, but when Noel started splashing his hand in the juice puddle, I had to grit my teeth. I backed my chair away, and he looked up at me with a wicked grin. Then he threw his cup at me and it landed right in my lap, spilling more juice on my pants.

I stood hastily and grabbed my napkin, and Melody ran around the table and scolded him lightly before handing me her napkin.

"My gosh, I'm so sorry, Ethan. Noel, that was so naughty. We don't throw things." She stopped short of dabbing my slacks, but I could see the look of sheer panic in her eyes when I used her napkin to wipe more of the moisture away. It was like the paint on my chest all over again.

"I, uh…" I dabbed at it and felt it getting sticky already. This was worse than I thought it would be. "I'd like to go home now."

John sat a little straighter. "Man, I shouldn't drive for at least an hour." He looked tense, and I turned to Mr. Winters, who shrugged.

"Melody, honey, can you drive him home?" Mr. Winters wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin, and Melody blanched, but then she forced a smile.

"Yes, I can do it. You two keep an eye on the kids. We'll do some Christmas movies when I get back."

She rushed off to get her coat and keys, and I ignored John's fervent gaze in my direction. I wanted to be home. I never wanted to come here, and while I didn't relish the idea of being alone with her in a car where I was trapped, it was better than staying here.

So help me God, if she tried to cheer me up with more Christmas spirit, I was going to lose it.