Moonlight Over Manhattan(49)
He’d had no time for lunch, but he’d found time to call his sister and his niece. Twice.
Harriet’s heart beat a little faster. “How long will it take her to recover?”
“She’ll be in a cast for a few weeks. I’ll arrange for her to see the orthopedic doctor here, so she doesn’t need to stay in California. She’d be better off at home until she’s more mobile. And we’re all going to Vermont the week before Christmas so she will join us there, although she won’t be skiing of course.”
She slid onto the chair, thinking that at least her lower half was protected behind the kitchen island. She wasn’t used to having anyone witness what she wore to bed. “What’s it like working on Christmas Day?”
“In the ER it’s pretty much like any other day. It’s probably different on wards where the staff know the patients. If you’re on the kids’ ward, they get a visit from Santa.” He laughed and she looked at him.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because apparently Santa has a conflict in his schedule this year so I’ve been asked to step in.”
“They want you to be Santa?”
“I know—” he shook his head “—it’s crazy.”
She imagined him dressed up in a Santa suit, those blue eyes warm with kindness as he handed out gifts to sick children.
“What’s crazy about it? I think that’s amazing. It must be miserable being in hospital at Christmas. I mean, think how they must feel. Every kid loves Christmas, right? There’s the whole tree, and the presents—but they don’t have that. Instead they’re frightened and missing home and their parents.” Her eyes welled up at the thought of it and she saw him looking at her.
“Are you crying?”
“No!” She blinked rapidly. “But I hate to think of kids on their own in hospital at Christmas.”
He gave a smile. A funny, crooked smile that somehow made him a thousand times more attractive than he was already. “I’m beginning to understand why you chose not to be a vet. You’re a marshmallow, Harriet Knight.”
“I am.” She cleared her throat. “Not good for much.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She wished she were better at reading glances because she was sure there was something she was missing in the way he was looking at her.
Or maybe he was just wondering how a marshmallow like her had made it this far in life without being squished under someone’s boot.
“I get why you have to switch off emotionally when you’re working, but how can you not feel for those kids?”
“Now you’re trying to make me cry too?”
“No. I’m trying to show you why you should be Santa. A visit from Santa must be the one bright spot in their day. How cool is that? To be the one bright spot in someone’s day?” She looked at him. “Why are you shaking your head?”
“I’m trying to remember if I ever looked at life the way you do. I’m wondering if I should be the one to break the news to you or not.” He poured milk into the pan and she watched, distracted by the way he moved. It had been the same in the emergency room, she remembered. She’d noticed his eyes first, and then his hands. He had clever hands. He wasn’t a man who would fumble or hesitate. She suspected those hands could handle just about anything.
The thought of what “anything” might entail distracted her and suddenly her head was full of images that made heat rush across her skin and brought the color pouring into her cheeks. It was like accidentally clicking on a link on the computer and finding the screen covered in naked bodies. It took her a moment to realize he was looking at her.
“Are you all right? You’re flushed. I hope you’re not about to succumb to the flu. There’s a lot of it around.”
She had a suspicion that the only thing she was about to succumb to was him.
“I’m good. It’s warm in here, that’s all.” Although most of the heat was generated from her thoughts. She tried to delete the unnerving images from her brain. “You said you had news to break to me?”
He lifted two mugs from the cabinet. “Here’s the thing—Santa doesn’t exist, Harriet.” His expression was sober. His warm, sympathetic tone made her think that if she ever had to hear bad news, she’d want it to be from him.
“I don’t believe in Santa. I do believe human beings have a huge capacity to improve life for each other in a million small ways. Just as one person can make your life miserable, so can a person make your day happy. Small things matter. Going that extra mile. Like you did that night in the emergency room.” Oh God, she shouldn’t have said that. Now he’d realize that she’d been watching him. After the whole romantic dinner episode, he’d think she was a stalker.
He paused. “What night?”
“The night I came in with my injured ankle. There was a woman sobbing in the waiting room and you stopped and talked to her. You probably don’t even remember, but I’m sure she does. She was at a really low point, and when you’re low there is nothing that helps more than a kind word from a stranger.” She flushed. “Ignore me. I’m talking too much.”
“You’re not talking too much. I’d rather people talked. It’s easier to figure them out that way.” He whisked chocolate into hot milk while she wondered why he would want to figure her out and whether she wanted that to happen.