Sleigh Bell Dreams (Mistletoe Meadows Sweet Christmas #1)

Chapter 8

“Thanks for helping me, Tris,” Terry said as she stood and looked at the walls in the waiting room.

They’d taped it up and stuck a coat of fresh paint on it, which had made her feel marginally better. Like she was doing something to get ready. It felt like she shouldn’t be able to just walk in and make the place hers.

“Anytime,” Tris said, standing beside Terry and admiring their handiwork.

Tris had gotten married the previous year at Christmastime, and Terry had come in for the wedding. Of course. Tris had been her best friend in high school, and there was no way she wasn’t going to be there when she finally tied the knot.

“Are you going to decorate for Christmas?” Tris asked cheerfully as they started to put their painting things away.

“It’s coming, isn’t it? Should we wait until Thanksgiving is here?”

“Goodness, the stores had Christmas displays up in August. We’re really behind the times if we’re waiting until Thanksgiving.” She paused, her hand on a paintbrush. “You heard about Mr. Gregory, didn’t you?”

“The township worker?” He’d been the township worker for years. Since she was a little girl. In fact, she couldn’t remember anyone else working for the township. He drove around in his truck, waved at them, and gave the leaves he picked up along the road to anyone who wanted them.

“Yeah. He’s responsible for putting up the Christmas decorations.”

“What happened?”

“He’s been such a faithful employee.”

“I know. He is one of my good memories of this town. In fact, he almost personifies this town.”

“He was diagnosed with cancer this summer, and he’s been trying to continue to work, because while the health benefits aren’t great, they’re still something, but he just hasn’t had the energy to get the Christmas decorations out. He can still ride around in his truck and make sure the streets are clear, and the sidewalks are tidy, and the garbage is picked up, and that type of thing, but the Christmas decorations are just beyond him, I think.”

“So that’s why it hasn’t been decorated yet?”

“Yeah. He and his wife are really struggling, and I think the town has been taken by surprise because they haven’t had to worry about it for...thirty years? Forty years? Something like that. He’s just always been there. And it’s hard to realize that he’s not. Plus, I think he was hoping he would get better.”

“We all do. Anytime that happens to us, we’re always hoping that our recovery is faster than expected.” She’d definitely seen that in her time in residency. Unfortunately, a lot of times the opposite occurred.

Especially with cancer.

“Am I missing any other things in town?” Terry said, figuring that maybe she ought to get caught up with things. She’d been so concerned about getting a house and getting herself settled that she hadn’t really taken the time to catch up on the town gossip.

“I suppose there is a ton, but I don’t even know where to start. I hate to do all the gloom and doom stuff.”

“That’s to be expected. Although, your wedding was a highlight last year.”

“It was. The very best. And Fisher is awesome. Being married is better than I expected.” She smiled, and there might have been a little blush on her cheeks. “You know Donna Knaus who runs the diner?”

Terry nodded.

“Her niece has been sick. And Jared Smith’s cousin’s husband left her, and she has four kids to raise by herself.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah. It was a shock to the town, because he always seemed like such a good guy, but I guess he just couldn’t take the pressure of being a husband and father,”

“Or he was lured away by something that looked better.”

“Yes, exactly.”

They were quiet for a moment, realizing that anything could happen to anyone.

“I guess I should warn you that Mrs. Tucker is going to be looking for someone to chronicle the spate of Secret Saint things that have been happening around town. I think pretty much everyone in town has told her no, so you’re fresh blood. Just warning you.”

“Chronicle the Secret Saint occurrences?”

“Yeah. It’s like a Secret Santa, only I think most of the town is tired of the commercialization of Christmas, and they’re trying to get back to the whole reason that we celebrate, which is Jesus. So, rather than calling it Secret Santa, they’ve decided to call it Secret Saint.”

“Oh.” She had been disillusioned with Christmas lately as well. It seemed so commercialized, with the holiday season being crazy, that she had mostly checked out. It was even better to try to point people back to the reason they celebrated in the first place though, so she could get on board with that.

“The town has its own social media page, and she’s looking for someone to do weekly posts, or more often, if she can twist their arm hard enough to get them to post more.”

“How do you find out about these things?” She didn’t want to do the social media page posts for the town. She figured she’d be busy enough trying to get a practice off the ground and work with the people who would be her patients, her neighbors and friends and fellow townspeople, but she also wanted to be an active part of the community. That was part of what made small towns great, no doubt. People being willing to jump in and help. Picking up where other people wouldn’t and taking care of each other. And what a positive message to have every day on social media. Talking about the good things that were happening around town for once, instead of just the bad things that made the news.

“Oh, you’ll find out about them. I guess there hasn’t been any since you came, but usually there is at least one a week, sometimes two.”

“How long has it been happening?”

“Since about the time the stores started putting the Christmas decorations up in their displays. So, the end of August, the beginning of September? I’m not sure exactly, but maybe we missed some. Because a few of them have only been caught just by chance as people started putting two and two together.”

“What do you mean?” Terry asked, perplexed.

“Well, there’s been money donated to local students to help with their education costs, and our annual mistletoe hop was almost fully funded by an anonymous source. Now, it’s a little bit harder to put those two together, but when Mrs. Sobel was in the hospital with her granddaughter, you know her daughter was tragically killed in a car accident, and she’s raising her granddaughter on Social Security. Anyway, when she was in the hospital, someone anonymously paid for room and board at the closest hotel. There was just a note at the front desk that said Merry Christmas, Secret Saint. I think that’s when we started calling them the Secret Saint episodes.”

“Well. Whoever it is must be rich.”

“Yeah, I mean there’s been little things too, like putting money in parking meters and someone being asked to man a hot chocolate and doughnut stand. The person didn’t know who was asking them to do it, but they paid them handsomely, and the whole town got free hot chocolate and doughnuts. It was a really fantastic day back in October.”

“And no one knows who does it?”

“Nope. No one’s been able to figure it out.”

Terry thought for a bit. It had to be one of the people who lived in one of the big mansions down the mountainside. Perhaps someone who had a horse ranch down there. There were several of those, with horses that were worth millions of dollars. Thoroughbreds or other horses. She knew that the horse industry had big money, but usually they didn’t make their money with the horses. They brought it into the industry because of what they did.

Regardless, the possibilities were almost endless, and she would have no idea of how to start digging around to figure it out. She’d become a doctor and not an investigator for a reason.

They finished rinsing the brushes out and turned the lights of the small clinic off as they walked out. “I really do appreciate your help,” she said, putting her arm around her friend as they walked out.

“My pleasure. You know it’s always good to see an old friend, and I’m ecstatic that you’re back in town. And to stay. I just couldn’t imagine anything better. Except, maybe I wouldn’t mind you being as happy as I am. We need to find you someone.”

“No way!” Terry said emphatically. She didn’t want anyone trying to matchmake for her. “I had a few relationships, nothing that stuck for more than a month or two, and I’m not the slightest bit interested right now. I’m trying to start my business and reestablish connections with my family and friends here. A relationship is not on my list of priorities.”

“You know, you’re not getting any younger.”

“I realize that.” And boy, did she ever. It felt like it had taken her forever to get educated enough to actually start practicing medicine. She felt like half her life was gone. And it very well could be if she died young. Looking back, she wasn’t sure it was worth all that time, but at the same time, she loved what she did, and she knew she would love it even more in her small town.

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Tris asked as they stepped out into the cool November day.

“I’ll probably eat at my mom’s, although we’ll talk about it on Sunday. I’ll finally be able to start making her Sunday afternoon dinners again.”

“If you want to sit beside us in church, come on up, there’s always a spot beside me for you. And if you find out that your family is not doing Thanksgiving, you’re welcome to eat with mine. Actually, I’m eating with Fisher.”

“All right. I appreciate that. It’s always nice to have a backup plan. It’s not exactly the kind of day that you want to spend by yourself.”

“Agreed. And watch out for Mrs. Tucker,” Tris said as she lifted a hand and smiled, waving a bit before she walked jauntily away.