The Christmas Keepsake (Love in Bloom #2)

Chapter One

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts.

—William Shakespeare, As You Like It

Thanksgiving was supposed to be all about relaxation and guilty pleasures, along with counting your blessings and loving on friends and family.

Not this year.

Mallory Blue audibly sighed as she plopped into a chair behind the nurses’ station for the first time in hours. Her legs ached, her temples throbbed, and her throat was dry. She’d had no time to quench her thirst during this eight-hour ER shift. No time to hit the restroom either.

Finally, the halls were quiet enough for her to hear herself think, which might not be a good thing.

She took a steadying breath, inhaling the sterile aroma of bleach mixed with lemon.

This wasn’t home by any means, but she spent more time in this hospital than she did in her own house. Especially lately.

Popping open a can of Dr Pepper—her favorite vice when working long shifts—she reached for her iPhone and checked her messages.

Maddie: Have you considered what I said?

Mallory’s momentary peace fizzled like the carbonation in her soda can.

Her younger sister was referring to a conversation they’d had last week.

Ever since Nan had gone to live at Memory Oaks, the bills had been piling up.

These extra hospital shifts were the temporary answer, but Maddie was pushing the idea of selling their grandmother’s beloved community theater as the permanent solution.

Another text came through with a loud ping.

Maddie: You’re skipping Thanksgiving dinner tonight just to work overtime. You can’t do this forever. Sam and I miss you.

Sam was Maddie’s husband. They were newlyweds.

This afternoon, they were having turkey and all the sides with Mallory’s paternal grandpa, Charlie, who also happened to be a newlywed.

Mallory’s best friend, Savannah, might even stop by with her new husband, Evan.

Love seemed to be all around Mallory, and she felt like the Grinch choosing work over Thanksgiving with loved ones.

Her phone dinged a third time.

Maddie: The show must go on!

It was Nan’s favorite expression, which she had used at every opportunity.

A boyfriend broke their heart? The show must go on.

Their dog died unexpectedly? The show must go on.

Their absentee mom failed to show up for Mallory’s sweet sixteen birthday party, even though she promised? The show must go on!

In this circumstance, Maddie wasn’t implying that the theater doors remain open.

Instead, the show she was talking about was their lives.

She’d made it clear in their last conversation that her vote was to sell Bloom Community Theater.

And promise or no promise, Maddie also voted that Mallory not put on Nan’s annual Christmas play.

In fact, Maddie didn’t want to do any of the things she’d promised Nan.

They were supposed to go through the box of keepsake ornaments and read Nan’s journal, sharing the special memories that explained them.

“I don’t have time rolling around in the past, Mallory.

In case you haven’t noticed, my present is pretty different these days,” she’d remarked, talking about the fact that she had been recently in an ATV accident and was now paralyzed from the waist down.

“My future is far different from the one I imagined. That’s what I need to focus on. ”

Mallory empathized, of course, but Nan had raised them when their mom had walked away. Shouldn’t Nan’s wish be granted?

Maddie: Nan won’t even know if we keep our promise to her. She doesn’t remember us anymore.

It was true that Nan’s clarity of mind had been slipping away over the past year.

It was rare that she even recognized Mallory’s face, much less knew her name.

The “now” Nan wasn’t who Mallory and Maddie had made a promise to though.

They’d promised the Nan who’d been a mother to them all their lives.

The theater was Nan’s passion, and this play meant everything to her. And the town.

Nan had written the script herself, and the annual production of Santa, Baby had become a beloved town tradition. Last year, when subtle signs of forgetfulness had started to set in, Nan made Mallory and Maddie swear to carry on, no matter what.

It wasn’t even a huge ask. The cast was the same year after year except when cast members were sick or moved away.

The set was already built, requiring only minor touch-ups each season.

The script had evolved over the decades, but, like a fine wine, only for the better.

Everything was in place. All they needed to do was step into Nan’s shoes and make it happen.

Mallory: Ruby Corben dropped out of the play yesterday. There’s a part for you.

Maddie’s response was quick and expected.

Maddie: NO.

All caps with no pretenses or apologies.

Maddie: I don’t recall a wheelchair ramp leading up to the stage anyway.

Mallory: We could make one.

Maddie: My answer is still no. Theater was never my thing and you know it.

Yeah. Nan knew it too. Maddie liked the great outdoors.

She loved long hikes, mountain climbing, and cycling, anything that required sunshine and adrenaline.

Or, at least, she had enjoyed those things.

Since the four-wheeling accident had left her using a wheelchair, life had changed.

Maybe it was wrong of Mallory to expect Maddie to get onstage in front of the entire town right now when she was still adjusting to her new normal.

Mallory reached for her Dr Pepper, preparing to take a long sip when the sound of a woman clearing her throat stopped her.

“Sitting down on the job?”

Wanda Boswell stepped up to the counter with a snide expression.

Wanda was also a nurse at Bloom Memorial, and she loved to catch others doing things wrong.

Not that taking a break after eight hours of walking up and down the halls, delivering medication and helping patients to the restroom, was wrong.

Mallory offered a reluctant smile. “Actually, my shift was technically over half an hour ago. I never had a break or lunch. So yes, I’m sitting down on the job, technically, but the floor is quiet right now.

” For the first time in hours. The Thanksgiving shift was notorious for cooking injuries.

Turkey fryer burns. Family brawls. The winner of this holiday shift went to the man who’d actually been attacked by the turkey that was supposed to be today’s guest of honor.

And by the looks of the guy when he’d come in, moaning, the turkey had won.

Wanda glanced around. “I love working the holidays. It makes me grateful that I don’t have family to worry about. It all seems so unnecessary, if you ask me.” She looked at Mallory a moment. “I guess we’re the same in that way.”

Mallory’s lips parted as she tried to decide if Wanda was insulting her or paying her a compliment.

“You volunteered for this shift, right? There’s no ring on your finger.” She shrugged. “No judgment from me. I think you’re a smart girl.”

Overtime pay and feeling like a third wheel weren’t the main reasons Mallory had chosen a shift over dinner at Maddie’s.

Her main reason was Nan. Thanksgivings were never small with Nan in charge, even after Grandpa Mickey died.

Nan cooked enough for an army, inviting anyone who needed a place to go.

With Nan at Memory Oaks Nursing Care this year, the holidays would be different.

While Maddie didn’t want to entertain the past, Mallory was stuck there.

“We just got a new arrival in curtain 12,” Wanda said. “I got him settled while you were checking on the hypoglycemic in curtain 2.”

Mallory nodded, taking note and wishing her coworker didn’t call patients by their diagnosis.

“And since it’s quiet on the floor and my back is killing me,” Wanda continued, “I think I’ll clock out early. You don’t mind, do you?”

Wanda didn’t wait for Mallory to argue. Instead, she continued walking down the hall, whistling loudly, which would undoubtedly wake the patients and ensure that Mallory was back on her feet until the next shift’s nurses arrived.

Picking up her phone, Mallory tapped out another text to her sister.

Mallory: Happy Thanksgiving. Save me some turkey and…

The sound of barking erupted down the hall, grabbing her attention. Barking? Either someone had the TV volume too high or one of the patients had a therapy dog. Therapy dogs were typically quiet. Well trained. They knew not to bark unless… something was wrong.

Mallory got up and moved quickly in the direction of the sound. While it was usually a patient’s buzzer that alerted her that a patient was in distress, maybe this time it was a loud, barking dog. After ten years of nursing, nothing surprised her anymore.

She followed the yellow-tiled hall to open curtain number 12 and yanked it back, pausing as her brain tried to make sense of the sight in front of her.

Wanda hadn’t mentioned that the new patient was Hollis Franklin or that he had his dog with him.

Hollis was lying on the hospital bed, his face pulled in a painful grimace as he clutched his left leg to his torso.

On the floor beside him was his chocolate lab, Duke, barking anxiously.

“Hollis? What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Stupid question. “Where’s your pain?” Her gaze moved to Hollis’s shin, where a long, open gash poured blood.

“I don’t think this should hurt as bad as it does, but…” He groaned. “I think I must have hit a nerve with my fall. That dog knocked me right off my feet.”

Mallory eyed his gentle giant dog suspiciously. “Duke hurt you? Do I need to call security? Animal control?” She didn’t even think hospital policy allowed a dog in the ER, but Hollis had a charm about him that made it hard for people to tell him no.