Page 5 of Hello Dr. Christmas

Chapter Three

When I limp through the front door of my family home, the peaceful domestic scene that greets me makes my heart happy. Our favorite Christmas movie is playing on the television, and everyone is gathered around the fireplace roaring in the center of the house. I sigh. It’s good to be home.

I use my crutches to step forward, and one by one, they start to notice me.

First my mom and dad get up and come over to wrap me up in their arms. I nearly cry when my father envelops me in a classic, fatherly bear hug.

“Clara, don’t let a broken ankle slow you down,” my father says. “You have been through so much. This is nothing.”

“I think it’s a little more serious this time, Daddy.”

My mom’s tender touch is next, with her kisses on both my cheeks.

“Oh, honey,” my mother says softly. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m just glad you’re home safe and sound.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m still alive, and that’s all that matters.” But if I’m being perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like all that matters, and I only feel about half alive.

Mary moves over to me next, along with her boyfriend. My oldest sister squeezes me tightly in her arms. I sigh gratefully. Mary has always been so caring and sweet, and such a role model to me and Evie. I couldn’t have asked for a better big sister.

“I wassolooking forward to seeing you dance in L.A.,” Mary whispers. “But as shitty as this is, I’m happy we’ll get to spend more time together over the holidays.”

“With me? I doubt you’ll be spending much time with me, when you’ve got this handsome guy to keep you occupied,” I say, glancing at her boyfriend.

“This is Sven Andersson,” Mary says, introducing us.

“It’s good to meet you, Clara,” he says, stepping forward to shake my hand. “I totally understand how you feel. My hockey career was interrupted for a while due to my knee, and it has been absolute hell.”

“Thanks,” I say glumly, letting Sven take my luggage.

“He has a cousin in Sweden,” Mary explains. “A really excellent orthopedic surgeon who specializes in working on athletes. You should show him your x-rays and MRIs.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble, moving over to the couch, where Eve is sitting. She looks just as gloomy as I feel. While Mom and Dad have each other, and Mary and Sven have each other, Eve might be the only one who can understand how depressed I am. I lie down and place my head in her lap with a sigh. “I saw like three different doctors and they all said that even if they operated, chances are that I’ll never dance again.”

“They all said that about me, too,” Sven explains. “But thanks to Klaus, I have a second chance. I’m getting stronger every day, although there are still setbacks occasionally.”

“His name is Klaus?” I ask with a chuckle. “Like Santa Clause?”

Mary grins. “They call him Dr. Christmas, and he is smokin’ hot.”

“Are you trying to fix my ankle or set me up with someone,” I ask suspiciously.

“Ankle,” Mary and Sven say in unison, which isn’t obvious at all.

Everyone laughs at this, and I bury my face in Eve’s thigh.

“Save me,” I mumble into her leg.

“Let the doctor help,” she responds, reaching down and undoing my hair from its tight bun. She runs her fingers through the strands, and gently massages my scalp, neck, and shoulders. It feels so good.

Eve has chronic neck pain from writing with terrible posture, so I guess she understands the value in a good massage.

“Fine,” I tell them, waving my hand. “Summon your doctor to help. I doubt he can, but I guess anything is worth a shot. If my ankle doesn’t get fixed, I’m totally useless, and my whole life is over.”

“That’s not true at all, honey,” my mother says sadly. “You are a brilliant girl with lots of other talents. There is much more to life than ballet.”

“Like what?” I ask. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years. I don’t know how to be a human without ballet.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Eve says gently, running her fingers through my hair. “Don’t worry.”

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