Chapter 8
The clinic felt smaller than usual.
Miles noticed it the moment he walked in that morning. The hallways were narrower. The exam rooms were closer together. Every space was hyperaware of where Lili might be.
She was already there, reviewing charts at the front desk. She raised her head as the door chimed, and their eyes met for half a second before they both glanced away.
“Morning.” He gave a nod.
“Morning.”
Professional. Polite. Painful.
He headed to his office, passing close enough to catch that floral scent of her shampoo.
Don’t think about last night.
Stick to the plan. Give her space.
By nine, they perfected the art of avoidance. Lili saw her patients in exam room one. Miles took his to exam room two. They communicated through Brenda and written notes.
When Brenda handed him the chart for his ten o’clock, she was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Tyler Kleinhopper. Rash complaint. He’s portraying Santa at the Christmas Workshop.”
“Okay.”
Brenda leaned in and lowered her voice. “And here’s the interesting part. Lili’s next patient just showed up. Becca Withers. Also a rash. She’s an elf at the workshop.”
Miles glanced up. “Both of them?”
Brenda’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, it gets better. Those two can’t stand each other.
They fight like cats and dogs. Last week they got into it over candy canes.
Parents complained their kids could hear Santa and his elf arguing, and they’re in the waiting room right now. Sitting on opposite sides.”
Miles walked to the doorway and peeked in. Tyler, dressed as Santa, sat hunched on the left, Christmas cap pulled to his eyebrows, staring at his phone like it could save him.
Elf Becca sat on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed, face scowling, radiating hostility.
Tyler glanced up. Glared at Becca. His face went through several shades of red before he shifted his gaze back down.
Becca shifted in her seat, winced, caught herself, and went rigid.
Tyler’s cell buzzed. He grabbed it, read something, and his expression shifted from belligerence to something closer to panic.
“They hate each other?” Miles stroked his chin. Too much stubble. Should have shaved this morning.
“Oh yeah. They've been at each other’s throats since high school when they were both up for class president. Scuttlebutt says they bicker every single day. The other elves have a betting pool on which one will quit first. Want me to room them and tell them to put on gowns?”
“Yeah. I’ll take Tyler in two. Send Becca to room one for Lili.”
* * *
Miles knocked on exam room two and found Tyler Kleinhopper wearing a paper gown, his Santa suit on the counter, pillow included, looking like he wanted to melt through the floor.
Tyler was twenty-two, home from college at UNT for winter break.
Miles had treated him since he was twelve. Responsible kid, for the most part.
“Morning, Tyler. What brings you in?”
“I have this rash.” Tyler stared at the floor.
“Where?”
Tyler’s face went scarlet. He gestured downward. “Private places.”
“Can you describe the symptoms?”
“Itchy. Burns. There are blisters and—It’s bad, Doc.”
“When did it start?”
“Last night. I noticed it when I got to my house around eleven.”
“Any idea what caused it? New soaps? Outdoor activities?”
Tyler stared at the ceiling. “I was hiking.”
“When?”
“Last night. After work.” He shrugged, and the paper gown crinkled. “I like winter hiking. It’s peaceful.”
Miles pulled on gloves. “Let’s take a peek.”
The examination told a clear story. Poison ivy. Extensive. Classic presentation with blisters, redness, and linear streaks. This wasn’t from a casual brushing against a plant while hiking. This was prolonged horizontal contact. Repeated friction. Naked.
Miles pulled off his gloves. “You have poison ivy. The distribution pattern suggests you were lying down for an extended period.”
Tyler’s face went slack. “I sat down to rest and laid back to stargaze.”
“Were you wearing clothes?”
“Of course. I was hiking.”
“The rash pattern suggests otherwise.”
“It was hot. I took off my shirt.”
“Tyler. It was forty-two degrees last night.”
“I run warm. My mom always says—”
“I need to know where this happened. If there’s poison ivy near a public area, people need to be warned.”
“It’s not near the public.”
“The Christmas Workshop backs up to woods.”
“I don’t know what woods you’re talking about.” Tyler’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it, glanced at the screen, and paled.
Miles made notes. “I’ll prescribe calamine lotion, an antihistamine, and a steroid cream. Two weeks and it should clear up.”
“Two weeks? I work every night until Christmas.”
“Avoid poison ivy in the future. You can go ahead and get dressed.”
Miles stepped into the hallway and went to exam room one, then knocked.
The door opened, and Lili stepped out, closing it behind her. It was the first time they’d been face-to-face all day. The awkwardness rushed back, but Miles pushed through it.
“Can I talk to you a sec?”
“Sure. What’s up?” She fiddled with the stethoscope around her neck.
Miles kept his voice to a murmur. “Your patient, what’s she here for?”
“Poison ivy. Extensive. Started last night.” Lili glanced at the closed door. “She claims she was gathering firewood, but the story makes no sense. The pattern suggests she was rolling in the stuff, and she’s evasive about where she was.”
“Same here. Tyler Kleinhopper. My patient. Also poison ivy. Last night. Claims he was hiking alone and stargazing.”
“Stargazing?”
“Says he runs warm. Took his clothes off.”
They stared at each other.
“And they’re both employed at Santa’s Workshop for the holidays.” Lili pressed a thumb to her bottom lip and appeared contemplative.
“Brenda says they hate each other. Fighting nonstop in front of the kids.”
“They came in at the same time.”
“Sat on opposite sides of the waiting room.” A smile twitched at Lili’s lips.
“Looking furious at each other.”
“Both with poison ivy from last night. Both skirting the truth.”
“They were together.” Miles wriggled his eyebrows.
Lili’s eyes widened. “The fighting is fake?”
“Has to be. Enemies to lovers. Secret romance. Behind the workshop.”
“Oh my gosh.” Lili pressed her lips together, fighting laughter. “That’s why we can’t get at the truth.”
“Want to switch patients? See if we can break them?”
Lili’s eyes lit up, the first real spark all day. “You betcha.”
* * *
Miles knocked on exam room one. “Becca? I’m Dr. Ellis. I need to ask some follow-up questions.”
Becca, still in her paper gown, crossed her arms over her chest. “Where’s Lili?”
“Consulting on another case.” He pulled up a stool. “The pattern of your exposure suggests prolonged contact with poison ivy. Not consistent with gathering firewood.”
Becca’s face flushed.
“If there’s an infestation near the Christmas Workshop, children could be at risk.”
“It’s not near the public area. It’s way behind the workshop. Deep in the woods where nobody goes—” She stopped, horrified.
“So you were behind the workshop.”
“I meant hypothetically—”
“Were you alone?”
Her phone buzzed. She read something, and tears filled her eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone. The whole town thinks we hate each other.”
“We?”
She dropped her face into her hands. “Tyler and I. We’ve been together for two months. We meet after work. The fighting is an act so people don’t ask questions. If this gets out—”
“We won’t say a word. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Just next time, avoid the woods for your meet-ups.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
He gave Becca a prescription and sent her on her way.
Across the hall, he heard laughter. Lili’s voice, warm and teasing. Tyler thanked her and took off after Becca.
When Miles stepped out, Lili was waiting in the hallway, shaking her head.
They drifted to the window at the end of the hall. Outside, Becca and Tyler walked to their cars, side by side. Becca reached for his hand. He took it. They didn’t glance back.
“Must be freeing to stop pretending.”
Lili stared at him. “Yeah.”
He turned toward her. “About last night. I’m not scared off.”
“You should be.”
“Probably. But I’m not.”
“You’re stubborn.” She folded her arms.
“So I’ve been told.”
Brenda’s voice carried from the front desk: “Dr. Ellis? Your eleven o’clock is here.”
Miles touched Lili’s hand, just for a second. “Thank you for not running.”
“Thank you for not letting me.”
* * *
That night, Lili and Rose had a girls’ night out at the local winery.
White Christmas lights. Tables covered with red cloths. Each seat had an easel, canvas, brushes, and a palette of acrylic paints. At the front, a perky woman in her thirties, wearing a Santa hat and painter’s apron, stood next to a finished painting of a snowman holding a Christmas tree.
“Welcome to Sip & Paint. I’m Michelle. Tonight we’re painting Frosty’s First Christmas. Don’t worry if you’ve never painted before. Wine makes everything look better.”
Everyone laughed. About twenty people were scattered around the room, relaxed and ready to have fun.
Rose dragged Lili to seats near the back, her jingle bell sweater jingling. “Strategic placement. We can talk without being overheard.”
A volunteer brought over trays of mulled wine. Lili took one and drank half of it in one swallow.
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”
“You could say that.”
“Okay, folks,” Michelle clapped her hands. “Let’s start with our background. Load your brush with this beautiful cobalt and make broad strokes across the top half of your canvas. Don’t overthink it. Just have fun.”
Lili dipped her brush and started painting. The repetitive motion soothed her.
“So...” Rose leaned closer. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Lili. You just chugged mulled wine like it was water. And you’ve been weird since I picked you up. Something happened.”
Lili added more blue to her canvas. “Just work stuff.”
“Involving a certain handsome doctor?”
“Rose.”
“What? I’m just asking.” Rose grinned. “How was working with Miles today?”
“Fine. Busy.”
“That’s it? Just fine and busy?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth?”
“Now add white to the sky.” Michelle demonstrated. “Create some beautiful clouds. Just dab—don’t overthink it.”
Rose dabbed white onto her canvas, then peered at Lili. “You’ve been avoiding talking about him.”
“I haven’t been avoiding anything.”
“Please. You change the subject every time I bring up Miles. Which tells me something is going on.”
Lili focused on painting clouds. “We work together. That’s all.”
“I heard through the grapevine that you two looked cozy standing under the town square mistletoe.”
Lili’s hand jerked, smearing white across her blue sky. “We were just looking at the display.”
“Now let’s add our ground.” Michelle loaded her filbert brush with more paint. “Use white for snow. Make it fluffy.”
They both started painting white along the bottom of their canvases.
“Rose, can we not do this?”
“Do what?”
“Analyze my life. Pick apart every interaction. Make it into something it’s not.”
Rose set down her brush. “Okay. Real talk. What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re terrified. I can see it. And I get it, after David, after everything you went through. But Lili, you can’t spend the rest of your life afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. I’m just being smart. Professional. Not making the same mistakes.”
“Miles isn’t David.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Lili painted in silence. Her ground was lumpy and uneven.
“Can I tell you something? When I first met Tom, I almost didn't give him a chance. I was so scared of making the wrong choice, of trusting the wrong person, and it was difficult after losing Mom and Dad.”
“What changed?”
“I stopped waiting to feel ready. Nobody's ever ready. Sometimes you just have to try.”
“What if I can’t?”
“What if you can?”
Michelle tapped her easel for their attention. “Now for Frosty. Three circles. Big, medium, small. Stack them up.”
Lili started painting circles. They came out lopsided. “Something did happen last night after the lights judging. We were standing under mistletoe, and he was about to kiss me. I wanted him to. But then I panicked and pulled away.”
“Oh, Lili.”
“He didn't do anything wrong. It was all me. My body just remembered David's hands on my face. The way things would start gentle and turn cruel. And this morning at work, it was so awkward between us. Like we both didn't know what to say.”
“Your desire scared you.”
“Yeah. Because before that, it felt right. Easy. Like we fit, and then I ruined it by freaking out when he tried to kiss me.”
Rose smiled. “I like him.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. That I like him too. That this could be something, and I’m going to ruin it because I’m too broken to—”
“Stop. You’re not broken. You survived something terrible. That’s not the same thing.”
“Feels like it is.”
“It’s not. What do you want, Lili? Forget what’s safe or smart or professional. What do you actually want?”
Lili thought about Miles. About the way he’d looked at her this afternoon. About how he said I’m not scared off as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “I want to try. Even though I’m terrified.”
“Then try.”
“Just like that?”
Rose raised her wine glass. “To trying.”
Lili clinked her glass against Rose’s. They painted for a while in silence. Michelle walked the class through painting stick arms, a carrot nose, and coal buttons.
“Your snowman is a drunk,” Rose giggled.
“Yours is a homicidal maniac.”
“He’s had a rough year.”
They both started laughing. It felt good to be close to her sister again. So very good.