Page 9 of Holiday Tides

Dr. Dave Prescott—AKA Santa—is an orthodontist, but when my face had been bleeding profusely during the renovation of his kitchen and downstairs bath, he saved me from having to drive to the mainland to seek medical treatment that I couldn’t have afforded at the time.

A wide smile breaks over her lips. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” My grin broadens.

Mae coos, and the both of us look down to check on her. Jane adjusts the wrap over her small back as something across the courtyard catches my eye. Straight blonde hair and a green peacoat ducks behind the display of trees, but Jane’s follow-up question keeps me from investigating.

six

Summer

The speed with which I duck behind a pineapple-themed Christmas tree would make any coach proud. I don’t win points for form, though, as I knock the tree, barely catching a surprisingly spiky glass pineapple from meeting its doom on the sidewalk. I close my eyes with a slow exhale, trying to collect myself. I should have figured that Nick would have a life of his own. It’s been nearly twelve years, for goodness’ sake! It’s not like I expected him to remain in stasis while I’ve been off living my life. Well…livingis a gross exaggeration. Working nonstop is more like it.

“Why is that lady praying to the pineapple tree?” a small voice interrupts my thoughts.

In my haste to get out of Nick’s eyeline, I’ve crouched and am still holding the wayward ornament between my palms.

“I don’t know, honey. She—she must really like Christmas…or pineapples.”

My eyes fling open to catch the mother’s gaze, giving her a reassuring smile. After all, I’m a trusted pediatrician. I vote,recycle, always say “Bless you” when someone sneezes, floss regularly, and kids love me.

“Let’s, um…let’s go this way.”

She tugs her child away faster than a hot knife through butter. My smile must have looked more maniacal than mollifying. I sigh, placing the ornament back on the tree while standing.

Before I can stop myself, I lean beyond fake evergreen branches to spy on Nick again. Something about him with a baby wrapped to his chest beside his gorgeous brunette wife sends sorrow slicing through my ribs. I should be happy for him. After what Carol told me this morning, I should be glad Nick landed on his feet. It’s just…

I know we’re not competitors anymore, but this is just one more thing that Nick has won at. I succeeded at becoming a doctor, but he’s obviously won in the “things that really matter” category. A wistful noise escapes my mouth as Nick zips the baby back into his coat, saying something to his wife. Then, a man in all black approaches from her other side, entwining their fingers and kissing her temple. Nick’s wife turns to smile at him before catching the bearded man’s lips in a quick kiss. My forehead pinches.

What in the throuple situationship?

My gaze snaps to Nick, wondering how he’ll respond to this, but he’s looking…

Right. At. Me.

“Shoot.” I duck again, this time behind a pink, candy-themed tree whose base looks like it’s been picked over by toddlers.

Just when I’ve decided the coast is likely clear, a deep, mirthful voice sounds from behind me. “Thinking about stealing a little sugar pick-me-up, Bummer?”

Every muscle in my back tightens, but I set my shoulders, turning to address a smug Nick. “Hello, Nick.”

His smirk deepens. “I didn’t know you were on the tree inspection committee.”

“I’m simply giving the town’s hard work the respect it deserves.” A few seconds tick by before I can’t stop myself from asking, “So, you have—” I gesture to the baby and then to the couple holding hands across the courtyard.

Nick raises his eyebrows with an entertained expression, stroking the baby’s back. She’s tiny, probably only a few weeks old. I’m assessing a band of petechiae across her cheek when Nick says, “Little Mae is my brother’s pride and joy.”

“That’s not your baby?”

The relief sweeping my limbs is completely uncalled for. I shouldn't be relieved that this adorable child isn’t Nick’s. My focus darts to his left hand before I notice he’s wearing gloves. Everyone is. I rack my brain to recall if I saw a wedding ring this morning.

Not like it should matter, I remind myself sternly.

“No.” Nick chuckles, jostling Mae slightly.

“But she’s strapped to your chest. Why would you be carrying another man’s baby? Also, you’re an only child. How did you get a brother?”

Nick—darn him—only continues to smirk at me. “Was that it, or is there more to this interrogation? I’d like to answer the questions in order.”

---