Holidays at Crescent Cove Read online

  “It’s a god-awful world out there, Bri. I’m glad you helped Mimi and Lily find their way out of it.”

  “You could practice here . . . or somewhere like here. You’d have the equipment and the facilities. You could help people here.”

  “No. I don’t have it in me anymore. And that’s that.”

  “Take a break. Do something else for a while. But you can’t just stop being a doctor. You can’t unlearn what you know.”

  “I can try.”

  They fell into silence. Bri wanted to shake him. He just possibly had saved Lily’s life. It just seemed wrong for him to quit like that. He hadn’t lost a hand or an eye, nothing was preventing him from going back to medicine. She didn’t get it. But she knew better than to push it further.

  “Well, thank you for bringing Ben’s letter to Nick; whatever it said sure seemed to help. I know he’s felt responsible for Ben’s death.” Sort of like you, responsible for them all, she wanted to say, but she didn’t.

  “It seemed like the right thing to do . . . Bri?”

  “Yes?”

  “You have a really nice family. Just go with your gut and everything will be fine.”

  She frowned at him. “Oh . . . kay.”

  He drained his glass. “I’d better get going.”

  “Sure,” Bri said. “I know the girls will be up at the break of day to see what Santa has left them.”

  “In addition to all the other gifts.” His eyes were teasing, and a little sad, Bri thought.

  “I know I got a little carried away, but I’ve been shopping for over a year now in anticipation of this. They came with only those two ratty stuffed animals I took with me to China.”

  “I wasn’t making a judgment.” He swallowed. “They’re very lucky girls.”

  “Thanks,” Bri said. “I really appreciate all your—”

  He put his fingers over her lips, stopping her. “They’re very lucky. Good night.”

  He gave her one last long and unreadable look. She followed him out to the mudroom, waited while he put on boots and coat.

  “Set your alarm,” she said. “You don’t want to miss all the fun.”

  He smiled and walked out the door.

  She watched from the window as he crossed the snow toward the cottage, his body silhouetted by the moon. He was halfway across the field when he turned and seemed to look straight at her. She slipped into the obscurity of the shadows. She didn’t want to be caught watching him.

  DAVID TOOK A last long look at the farmhouse. He wanted to remember it. Not that he would likely forget it or its occupants. He knew he would have no choice but to remember it, and he wanted to get it right. He should have never stayed so long, let himself get involved with this family, made friends with Bri’s friends. Met Ben Prescott’s brother and his son. Nick’s wife. Margaux’s mother.

  His soul, what was left of it, was restless. If he stayed still too long, the weight of his past, all that he’d not been able to do, would begin to suffocate him. It was only a matter of time until it did that here. And then everyone would be disappointed, and hurt, and his selfishness would be the cause.

  No, as much as he hated not seeing the faces of those two little girls in the morning experiencing their first Christmas, he knew the right thing to do.

  He wrote a quick note, which he left on the little worktable next to a clumsily wrapped present. They’d be disappointed at first, but not as disappointed as they would be if he stayed.

  He pushed his clothes into his backpack, but tonight he didn’t drop it on the floor. Tonight he slung it over his shoulders and went out the cottage door. The lights in the farmhouse were already turned out.

  He began walking across the moonlit snow; he didn’t look back at the house again, but headed for the road.

  Chapter Eleven

  BRI WOKE UP to sunlight. A glance at the clock said it was eight o’clock. Surely the girls had awakened earlier to see what Santa had brought. She was sure they understood about Santa.

  Maybe David had taken them in the kitchen to let her sleep for a while longer. That would be just like him. Bri showered quickly and dressed in jeans and a Christmas sweater with jingle bells that she’d found in a thrift store. She slipped on her Uggs and hurried out to get things rolling.

  It was totally quiet. There was no smell of coffee. She backtracked to the girls’ bedroom and peaked in. They were both still asleep. Crazy. In the Boyce household, they were all up at five and badgering their parents to get up so they could open their presents.

  She went into the kitchen. No David. She made coffee and while it was brewing, shrugged into her jacket and ran across the field to wake him.

  She knocked on the door. Jumped on the balls of her feet trying to keep warm. “David. No slouching today. It’s Christmas. Merry Christmas.”

  She knocked again.

  “David?” She opened the door and stepped inside. Listened for the sound of the shower. But there was only quiet. The quiet of emptiness. She went toward the bedroom but stopped when she saw the notepaper propped against a round package. And she was overcome with a chill that started in her gut and spread to fill her body and her heart.

  He was gone. She bypassed the note and went into the bedroom. No David, no coat, no backpack. He’d left a note. A damned note.

  She went back to the table, snatched the note up and read through a blur of tears she refused to let fall. He didn’t deserve her tears. The jackass. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye.

  What was she going to tell the girls? Margaux and Nick were expecting him for lunch. Everybody was waiting to meet him. And he was gone.

  “You could have waited until after lunch, you jerk!”

  She snapped the note in the air. Dashed away the blur in her eyes. Read it again. I’m sorry. I knew I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye so I took the coward’s way out. “I’ll say.” Bri sniffed. Tell the girls goodbye and I’ll miss them. “The hell I will. You can go to hell. I’ll tell the girls you went to hell.”

  She crumpled up the note, then spread it out again on the table and folded it. Margaux would want to see it for herself.

  Bri sank into the chair next to the table. She knew she should go back to the house, wake the girls, try to make their first Christmas together the best day in the whole world. But she couldn’t get past her anger at David.

  “HE’S NOT COMING,” Bri told Margaux as the girls ran past her into the kitchen.

  “Why? Is he afraid he’ll be out of place? He won’t be.”

  “No. It’s because he’s gone.” Bri stopped in the mudroom to take off her Uggs and change into flats.

  “Gone where?”

  “Wherever the road takes him,” Bri said in sepulchral tones. “I guess. He didn’t say. Just walked out of the house last night and that’s the last we saw of him. The girls think he was Santa Claus, because Connor told them no one can ever see Santa leave presents. Though how they understand Connor is beyond me.”

  “Kids,” Margaux said, and led her into the warm kitchen. “So did you try to explain to them?”

  “No. I couldn’t use words to describe him that would be appropriate in front of children. He left them a present . . . in the cottage for me to find. With a note.” Bri reached into her purse and pulled it out. “Figured you’d want to see it.”

  “I’ll say.” Margaux took the note, unfolded it and frowned at it. “Holy cow. The man has issues.”

  “Mags, we all have issues. We don’t run away .”

  “Who’s run away?” asked Jude, coming into the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, Bri.” She kissed Bri on the cheek. “Where’s David?”

  Bri rolled her eyes. Margaux handed Jude the note.

  “Oh dear,” Jude said, and handed the note back to Bri. “I was hoping that wouldn’t happen.”

  Bri broke. “Of all the times to l
eave. How selfish could he be? He couldn’t wait one more day? He could have left two days ago, before the girls became so attached to him. It’s just cruel.”

  “I think it was more self-protective than wanting to be cruel.”

  “Yeah, well I’ve learned my lesson . . . again.” She turned to Margaux. “See, I told you. This is why I stay away from men. They screw everything up.”

  The kitchen door opened. Nick came in. “I’m ready to carve the bird. We’re all salivating out there.” He looked around. “Where’s David?”

  Margaux handed him the carving knife. “Don’t ask.”

  “Gone,” echoed Bri.

  “Oh.”

  Jude opened a package of rolls and put them on a cookie sheet. “Do me a favor, Bri. Don’t give up on him. I think he’ll be back.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh maybe not today, but someday. I think he knew he could have a life here and it scared him.”

  Bri groaned. “That’s so much bunk. Look at this group. There’s not one scary person in it. Not even Nick . . . anymore.” She smiled, and it was the first time that day smiling hadn’t been an effort.

  “Thank you very much,” Nick said. “I know his timing was lousy. But being a guy, I know that it’s sometimes hard to do the right thing at the right time. No matter how hard you try you’re bound to screw something up.”

  Margaux laughed and put her arms around his neck. “Thanks for that insight into male behavior, Chief. I’ll try to remember it. Now would you please carve that turkey before it dries out?”

  Jude handed Bri a casserole dish, and Bri carried it into the dining room, stopping by the parlor to say a quick Merry Christmas to the crowd, who were laughing and talking as they waited for lunch. It was like a giant extended family. Grace, who was Bri and Margaux’s best friend since childhood, came over to stand on tiptoe and give her a big hug and a questioning look.

  “Gone like the summer,” Bri told her. “Tell you later.”

  Soon the table was covered in serving dishes. What there was no room for spilled over to the sideboard.

  “Sit down everyone,” Margaux said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  There was a moment of silence while Connor said the blessing followed by Mimi’s “Ah-min” and Lily’s louder “Ah-choo.” There was stifled laughter around the table. Bri poked her and she said sweetly, “Ah-min.”

  “Dig in,” said Margaux. And they did. Dishes were passed and conversations bounced around the table. Bri filled plates for herself and Mimi and Lily though they looked questioningly at the asparagus casserole and the crescent rolls.

  The room slipped from near rowdiness into silence and sighs as the first bites were taken.

  “Delicious,” said Roger Kyle, Jude’s new husband.

  “Thank you,” said Margaux. “It was a group effort.”

  There was a noise from the kitchen.

  “Was that the door?” Margaux asked.

  “Wind must have shut it.” Nick stood up. “I’ll see.”

  “Can you pass the gravy?” asked Jude. “I’ve been living on poached eggs for a week just for gravy.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Nick stepped back into the room. He wasn’t alone. David Henderson stood next to him, looking a little embarrassed and seriously uncomfortable.

  Bri’s mouth dropped open.

  “Day-did,” cried Lily, and slid off her chair to run to him.

  “Careful sport,” he said.

  Mimi was right behind her. “Day-did,” she echoed, and threw her arms around his legs.

  The room was suddenly silent. Jude jumped up. “So glad you could make it after all. Here, let me make you a plate. We saved you a seat.”

  David glanced at Bri, but she looked away and began talking to Grace on her far side.

  Wow, Grace mouthed, and pretended to listen.

  David shepherded the girls back to their seats. Bri ignored him. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to say anything nice.

  He sat down next to Jude and the meal went on.

  After dessert the men turned on the football game and the kids went up to Connor’s room to play with his new toys.

  Bri started to go with them to keep an eye on the convalescing Lily.

  “Take a break, “ Grace said. “This is what honorary aunties are for.” She climbed the stairs after them.

  Bri joined Margaux and Jude in the kitchen.

  “Some things never change,” said Jude. “Every Christmas, the men end up in front of the television and the women end up in the kitchen. So much for women’s lib.” She chuckled. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. You girls load the dishwasher. I’ll wash the glasses.”

  A few minutes later Nick and David came into the kitchen.

  “I came to apologize,” David said.

  The three women turned around.

  “Should we leave?” Jude asked.

  “No,” David said. “To all of you. For walking out without saying goodbye. But especially to Bri, who showed me kindness and who deserved better.”

  Bri blinked hard.

  “I thought I needed to go before I got too attached to everyone in Crescent Cove. Since I’ve been here, I started to feel like I might actually be able to start a new life here. I’d find myself thinking about finding a job, or even sometimes I could see myself opening a practice, and then I’d think about all the people who needed help, who needed doctors and didn’t have them, and how Crescent Cove certainly didn’t need one more crowding the others. And I felt like I was . . . I don’t know, betraying them or . . .” He shrugged. Obviously he was having a hard time articulating what he felt.

  “So what made you decide to come back?” asked Bri.

  “I was standing out on I-95, about five miles from Stamford, freezing my—freezing and wondering where I was going and why the hell I couldn’t just accept the fact that I liked it here. I liked the people here. That I really could have a life here. Maybe not as a doctor but as something. And I thought about how long it would take to walk to the next town and the town after that. And if I kept going, would I ever be able to stop?

  “And suddenly I realized that I was a damn fool if I didn’t turn around and accept what I could have here. At least give it a try.”

  He shrugged. “So I crossed to the other side of the interstate and hitched a ride back again.” He looked at Bri. “Is the cottage still available?”

  She fought the smile that was stretching at her lips. And gave up the battle. “Yes. But so help me, don’t you ever do that again.” She glared at him. “And by the way, the girls think you’re Santa Claus.”

  “You didn’t tell them that?”

  “Of course not, it was Connor. Actually I think it was Lily.”

  Jude linked her arm through David’s. “See, things are beginning to work out already.”

  “I’m not sure I follow you,” David said, looking wary.

  She squeezed his arm. “Well, being Santa, you’ll never have trouble getting a job.”

  BRI AND DAVID didn’t talk much as they drove back to the farmhouse. The girls were pretty quiet. She dropped him up off at the cottage, so he wouldn’t have to carry his backpack through the snow.

  “I don’t want to bother you,” Bri said. “But you’re welcome at the house anytime, your call.”

  “Thanks. If you feel uncomfortable with me here . . .”

  “I’ll get over it. But next time don’t cut out without letting us know.”

  “I won’t. I don’t know that I can stay, but I won’t do anything rash.”

  “I can live with that. And no leaving without telling everyone else. I don’t want to have to explain to them what I don’t understand.”

  “Fair enough.” He got out of the car and she backed up and drove over to her h
ouse. He went inside.

  The first thing he saw was his present. She hadn’t taken it to the girls. Hadn’t even opened it to see what it was.

  He unpacked. This time he put his clothes in the little closet and his shaving kit in the bathroom. He stored his backpack in the back of the closet. It didn’t feel odd. He didn’t panic. It felt okay.

  He sat down at the table. Looked at the lopsided gift that he’d found in an antique store downtown while Lily was in the hospital. He’d meant to take it with him when he left, something to remember them by. But it was heavy, and besides, he doubted if he ever could forget them, so he’d torn out several pages from a magazine and wrapped it up. For the girls, for Mama Boy.

  He smiled, though his chest felt tight. He put on his coat, pushed the package into his coat pocket, and set out across the snow.

  The girls were on the floor playing with their new gifts. Bri was stretched out on the couch sound asleep, until the girls saw him and raced across the room, screeching “Day-did, Day-did.” Bri stirred. Sat up.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I brought one more present.”

  The girls jumped up and down.

  “They know that word for sure,” said Bri, and eased her feet to the floor.

  “Go sit by Mama Boy,” he told them.

  They pattered back to the couch and climbed up beside Bri.

  David put the package in her lap. Then he sat on the floor in front of them.

  Bri looked at him, then opened the wrapping and brought out a round ball with a little white farmhouse in the center.

  “A snow globe,” she said. “Look girls, it’s a snow globe.”

  Mimi and Lily leaned over it. Patted it. Looked at Bri.

  “You turn it upside down like this. And it snows.”

  “Lily house,” Lily said.

  “Mimi house,” said Mimi. “Mama house.”

  “Yes,” Bri said, her voice suddenly tight. “Our house.” She looked down at David. “Thank you.”

  “Day-did house?” Mimi asked, peering into the ball.