Here Comes Santa Paws (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

2. Roman

Chapter 2

Roman

After settling at my desk, I started working through a stack of patient paperwork before my appointments began. I reveled in the quiet while it lasted because I wouldn’t get it again until I got home. The only loud thing at my place was my neighbor’s tacky-ass Christmas decorations.

While the software I needed took its sweet time loading, I checked my personal email on my phone. Damn. Still no word on any of the job applications I’d submitted. I supposed things might move slowly until the holidays were over. As long as a new physical therapy job came through soon, I could handle one more season in Christmas hell. But the familiar tingle in my gut told me it was time to move on. It had never steered me wrong with all my adventures before.

The recognizable jingle of Anisha’s bulky key ring signaled her arrival. So much for quiet . As much as I appreciated silence, Anisha enjoyed filling it.

I sighed.

“Don’t give me that sigh, Schaffer. I refuse to accept your attitude today. The festival starts this week. Only your holly-jolly ass is welcome.”

I spun in my chair and leveled an unamused stare at her. “We both know there’s nothing holly or jolly about me.”

She set her comically giant water bottle on her desk. Her box braids were pulled into a high bun on her head.

At least she hadn’t started wearing her tacky Christmas scrubs yet, though her turkey badge reel was borderline offensive. Her PT patients adored her festive cheer. Mine were lucky not to get a passing “bah humbug.”

“Stop scowling at me. I haven’t had coffee yet,” she said.

“I don’t scowl.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped the screen before aiming it at me with the camera in selfie mode. I blinked as my eyes focused on the image. It was barely a frown. I huffed and turned back to my computer.

“I rest my case, your honor. Coffee time,” she said in a singsong voice. Minutes later, she returned and handed me a perfectly nondescript mug full of steaming black coffee, then sat in her office chair and faced me, holding a Rudolph mug with a ridiculously large red nose.

The coffee was payment for conversation. An unspoken agreement we’d made soon after I’d moved to Christmas Falls for this job over two years ago. She talked, and I grunted when appropriate throughout the time it took me to enjoy my drink.

Honestly? I liked listening to her, and I did listen. I was good at that, but the talking part wasn’t my thing.

“We’re heading to Milton Falls Christmas Tree Farm over the weekend to pick out our tree. The kids are begging for the tallest one they can find, but our ceilings can handle a seven-footer at best.”

I grunted, then enjoyed another long pull of perfect coffee.

“We got the lights hung outside the house. I bought some new ones for our front hedge.”

“Already? What is wrong with this town?” I muttered the words.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Not everyone who chooses to live in Christmas Falls is a Scrooge, Roman.”

“I’m not a Scrooge.”

Anisha rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’re a Grinch.”

“Is that any better?”

“Nope. It’s worse.” She took another drink.

I straightened in my chair. “I just don’t get it. Take my neighbor. He already has his half of the duplex covered with lights like an elf barfed on it. He’s even got a gingerbread house inflatable. A house inflatable in front of a house .” I stared at her imploringly.

Anisha busted out laughing.

“What?” I frowned.

“I’ve never seen you worked up over someone. I thought you were Teflon. Is your neighbor cute?”

I dodged her question. “I’m not Teflon. I’m stainless steel.” I chugged the rest of my coffee to end the conversation.

The sound of her laughter faded as I stomped to the kitchen area to rinse my cup. I had appointments to get ready for. No time to think about pain-in-the-ass neighbors.

“You know how you could help? There’s a lightbulb on the front porch I’ve been meaning to change for a while. I’d do it, but…” Jim Rocha gestured to his hip from his plush recliner.

I didn’t budge from where I stood next to his television with my arms crossed over my chest. I’d had to turn the thing off to get his attention. The man had a knack for attempting to delay the inevitable, a tactic I was well acquainted with. Many patients underestimated how much pain they’d be in from a hip replacement and how hard the physical therapy could be. That was where my take-no-bullshit attitude shone. My patients might hate me for it initially, but I had the post-PT thank-you letters to prove it worked.

“Changing lightbulbs isn’t part of physical therapy.”

He huffed. “It will be if I slip on my ass and break my other hip because I couldn’t see the ice.”

“Good thing it’s not supposed to drop below freezing this week.” My voice was deadpan.

I felt for the guy. He looked shaggier than before his procedure last week, but that wasn’t uncommon. It hurt to stand and shave. Where his silver hair had been combed smooth during our initial consultation, it now hung limp on the sides of his head.

A fake mounted fish wearing a Santa hat, hanging on the wall to my right, began moving and singing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” I damn near jumped out of my skin. Jim’s place was full of fishing memorabilia, but I hadn’t expected anything to animate.

“Billy’s getting glitchy in his old age, like me.” He patted his hip and winced. “The Santa hat is cute, huh? My grandson did that.”

My nostrils flared as I took in the lights lining his bay window in a tidy rectangle and the tabletop tree covered with fishing-themed ornaments. “Did your grandson inflict the other decorations on you too? Sounds like my neighbor,” I muttered.

One side of his smile curved. “He thought it would cheer me up while I recovered.”

Well, I’m an asshole.

“Quit stalling. We’ve got work to do.”

“I’m not stalling.” He matched my glare. It was clear Jim would be a handful. I could handle an ornery older man.

“You’re definitely stalling.” I handed him a laminated pain chart with a range of smiling and grimacing faces. “How’s your pain level today?”

Jim tried to match the expression of the face assigned to five. “That’s before the meds.” Then he smiled like a two. “And that’s after.”

I shook my head and took a note as I fought a smile of my own.

A few minutes later, I had all the stuff I needed. Time for the actual PT. “Bureaucratic stuff is over. Let’s move.”

He pulled himself to a standing position.

“Have you been doing the ankle pumps and rotations while sitting?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, but I believed him.

I gestured for him to move over to a dining chair I’d pulled out when I arrived. “Stand behind this and give yourself enough room to move. Good. Now lift your knee, but not higher than your waist.”

“Above my waist? Do you think I’m a gymnast?”

He snarked at me a few more times but followed my instructions as we worked through several exercises.

Jim peered at me from behind his glasses. “Which way do you swing?”

I nearly dropped my notebook. “Excuse me?”

“Swing? You know. Men? Women?” His face twisted up. “My grandson taught me another term. Nonbinary? Yeah, that’s it. Do you like nonbinaries?”

“Enbies.”

“Huh?” His bushy gray eyebrows bunched together.

“That’s the plural term for multiple nonbinary people.”

“Enbies.” He tested it on his tongue. “I like it. Is that who you like?”

I ignored the question. A lot of the older adults I worked with were nosy. Something about my lack of small talk made them want to drag it out of me.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

I swallowed a sigh. My boss wouldn’t appreciate getting a report of me biting off a patient’s head. I needed a good reference from her if I had a chance at getting the equivalent of her job elsewhere. Beyond that, the man had no business knowing I was gay—even if I could tell he wouldn’t be shitty about it.

“The absence of a ring doesn’t always mean someone is single. Or if someone is single, that doesn’t mean they’re looking.”

“That’s what my grandson says too.”

“Your grandson is on to something.”

Jim lowered himself into his recliner wearing a triumphant smile, but sweat beaded his temples. He’d done well.

“My grandson is very intelligent. Successful too. And handsome.” He gestured to himself. “A given as my descendant. Did you say you like men?”

“We both know I didn’t say.”

His cat-got-the-canary smile made me narrow my eyes.

Before finishing, I had him go through the seated movements to make sure he knew what to do each day until our next appointment. All the while, he peppered me with more inappropriate personal questions, but he kept moving, so I didn’t mind.

“You better keep doing this.”

“I said I will.” He took a swig from a water glass on the table next to his recliner. “How’d I do, coach?”

“Good.”

“Such effusive praise.”

I nearly smiled.

“Since I did so well, how about changing that lightbulb?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How about you ask that grandson of yours?”

Jim blew out a breath. “He’d love to, but I don’t want him worrying.”

I tilted my head. “You’re asking him to help change a lightbulb, not carry you to bed.”

“Might as well be the same thing.” Sadness lurked in his eyes. “I’m the only family he has left, and I want him to keep thinking I’m invincible.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Fine. But that’s the only special favor you’re getting from me.”

Jim’s grin was far too triumphant for my liking.