Chapter 13
Garrett
When we’re upstairs in Rory’s room, she flings my shirt onto the bed.
“Close your eyes,” she says, which is ridiculous, because I’ve seen her naked on a daily basis for more than a decade.
Instead, I shut the door and lean back against it. “Bechdel Test?”
“It’s like a safe word for mother daughter relations.”
“Ah.”
She peels off her PJ pants and digs out a pair of leggings. “What’s the temperature today?”
“Just above freezing. Maybe two degrees?”
“These are fleece-lined, I think I’ll be okay.” She tugs them on, then glances back at me. “You didn’t close your eyes.”
“I can see you naked with my eyes closed, too. I’ve got a whole collection of Rory highlights.” I snag the green flannel shirt off the bed. It smells like her, warm and sweet, so I pull it on over my t-shirt. “Reclaimed.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you ready to go over to the tree lot?”
“Yep.”
“Then go.” She crosses her arms over her tank top-clad chest. “I don’t need an audience for putting on a bra and finding a sweater.”
But the audience would really enjoy that. Except I can’t tell her that. “All right, you win. See you out there.”
By mid-morning, the tree farm is already packed with families. I’m lazily doing laps of the skating trail, which is cooler than the sunny lot, where the snow from yesterday has already melted. No white Christmas for Pine Harbour after all.
But on the trail, where the sun can’t really break through the dense trees and the ice stays frozen, there’s a certain Polar Whimsy in the air.
Kids are wearing oversized elf hats on their helmets and parents are dancing to songs that would be right at home on Rory’s playlist.
A group of teenagers blows past me, laughing and showing off. I recognize a few of them. They’re good kids, just excited about the holidays.
I round the first curve into the forest when I hear the distinctive sound of blades catching wrong, followed by an ominous thud, a body landing hard on the ice.
Panicked voices immediately follow. “Oh shit, oh shit!”
I pump my legs hard, shooting around the bend to find a teenage girl sprawled on the ice. Her friends are clustered around her, their faces all tight with fear.
Shit. Injuries are a fact of life, and skaters need to sign a waiver, but still. Fuck. Bad vibes on Christmas Eve.
I’m on the radio as I stop next to them. “This is Garrett at Turn One, standby for an incident report.”
Then I drop to my knees beside her.
She’s conscious, but looks dazed, blinking up at me with unfocused eyes.
“Hey there,” I say gently. “What’s your name?”
“Emma,” she whispers.
“Hi, Emma. I’m Garrett. Don’t try to move yet, okay? Can you tell me what hurts?”
“My arm.” Tears leak from the corners of her eyes. “I can’t move it without—ow.”
My radio crackles. It’s Rory. “Roger. Standing by.”
I smile reassuringly at Emma. “We’re going to get you some help, then. Did you know that there’s a doctor who moonlights here doing Christmas tree sales?”
She doesn’t laugh, but her friends do.
“I’m serious.” I look at her most anxious looking friend. Kids like him need a task in an emergency. Sure, I have the radio, but I might as well let him help. “Can you go backwards on the trail—you won’t get in trouble, I promise—and meet Dr. Minelli there and show her where we are?”
He takes off like a shot.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I hop on the radio again. “Roar, meet a kid at the skate hut. Bring the first aid kit. I think you’ll need a sling.”
I turn back to Emma. “You’re going to be in very good hands soon. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.”
“Good. What day is it?”
“Christmas Eve.” She tries to smile, then winces. “My mom’s going to kill me.”
“Is she here?“
“Yeah. She wanted to…” Emma sobs. “Surprise my dad with a real tree.”
I get back on the radio and manage to relay to Cassie who we’re looking for.
By the time that conversation is over, Rory’s coming around the corner. She makes quick eye contact with me, then looks back at the kid skating along beside where she’s walking at the edge of the trail. She’s listening to him, but her sharp gaze is taking in the scene.
She’s wearing the same Pine Harbour Little Tree Farm puffy vest that I am, over a fluffy cream sweater.
“Hi, Emma. I’m Rory. I understand you fell on your arm.” Her voice is all business, cool and competent. She touches my shoulder as she kneels down, guiding me out of the way. “Does anything else hurt?”
After doing a quick check on Emma’s head and legs, she glances around.
“Let’s move everyone out of the way a bit.
Can someone go and find Emma’s boots for me, please?
Emma, I want to get you sitting up. Then we can slide your coat off and get your arm in a sling to go to the hospital.
” She shrugs out of her vest and lays it on the ground beside the ice.
“I’m going to brace your arm against your body, and Garrett is going to help get you up, okay? ”
Emma’s eyes flare wide in alarm. “It hurts to move.”
“Let’s wait for your mom, then. We can cut your coat off if need be.”
“No, don’t…” Emma’s face screws up, tears welling.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Rory lowers her voice, whispering to the girl, until her panic subsides. “That’s it. Just keep breathing.”
“Oh my God, Emma!” A woman comes running along the trail. “I’m her mother.”
Rory introduces herself.
“I’m okay, Mom,” Emma says, though she looks far from it.
Rory repeats the options about the coat, and explains that the arm will hurt less once it’s in a sling.
“And you know what? Once you get to the hospital and they get it in a cast, the pain will almost completely go away. Casts are literally magic. Science magic. So the sooner we can get you up, the sooner you’ll feel better. ”
“I…” Emma looks up at us and starts crying again.
Rory patiently explains how she would brace the girl’s arm, minimizing the movement as much as possible.
And finally, Emma agrees to let us lift her up to sitting.
Rory uses her own arm like a firm splint, and I put my arms behind Emma’s shoulders and legs. On three, we lift her up and sit her on Rory’s vest.
Silent tears spill down her face as I ease her coat off her uninjured arm first, then Rory slides it off her almost-definitely fractured forearm next.
“Garrett, can you hold her arm against her body just like this,” Rory says. “I’ll put a sling on you, Emma, and then we’ll get your coat back on you, I know it’s cold.”
“I’m okay,” the teenager says between tightly pinched lips.
“You’re being so brave. Almost done.” Rory ties off the fabric at Emma’s neck, then deftly pulls her coat around her shoulders.
“Let’s get your skates off, and your boots on, and then you’re going to very carefully walk out of here like a rockstar, with this big entourage around you to make sure you’re safe. ”
Once she’s up on her feet, between Rory and her mom, I go to the skate hut with her friends to return everyone’s skates, and get my own boots on as well.
By the time I get to the tree lot, Emma is in the back of her mom’s car.
“I’ll call the hospital and let them know you’re coming,” Rory says. “Keep me posted. And I’ll come sign your cast tomorrow if you’re up for a visitor.”
Then they pull away.
Emma’s friends melt away, finding their families in the crowd.
“Well done, Dr. Minelli,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes.
Except it is impressive to watch her work.
She walks away from the crowd as she searches for the hospital phone number.
I follow because I have nothing else to do at the moment, and I’m still carrying her puffy vest. Silently, I hold it up. Do you want this back?
She shakes her head. In the sun, it’s quite warm now, and after that blast of excitement, I’m warm, too.
As she waits on hold to be transferred to the emergency department, I hang both of our vests up on a hook on the tree sales hut.
“How’s business?” I ask Cassie.
“Jules is telling every customer that their aura is calling out for a very specific tree, so she’s moving an average of two per household.”
Her sister jogs over. “Just sold four more.”
“Auras?” I ask.
She grins wickedly. “Yep.”
“You’re evil.”
“This is business,” she says with savage delight. “And also, I’m hungry and want to go to the bakery.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll be sold out within the hour,” Cassie says dryly.
I give them both a high five, then go to give the good news to Rory.
“That’s right,” she says into the phone as I approach. “Briefly dazed but is now alert and well-oriented. Possible concussion, but her helmet was on properly. Yep, sounds good. Thanks.”
“All good?” I ask after she ends the call.
“Yep.”
“Your sisters seem to have the tree sales under control.”
“Mm-hmm.” Rory glances around. “Are you heading back to the skating trail?”
“I think they’re okay without me. You want to get a hot chocolate?”
She shakes her head, then flicks her gaze over the tree lot.
“Do you want to walk the lines and do a tree count?” I guess.
Her cheeks turn pink. “How did you guess?”
“It’s Christmas Eve. You and your dad are both creatures of habit.”
“Are we?” She looks genuinely delighted at that. “That’s a very nice way to say dogmatically hyper focused.”
“That’s a very critical way to say creature of habit.”
“Touché.” She starts counting, and it doesn’t take long. “Eight! We only have eight trees left!”
I’m laughing as she jumps up and down in excitement.
And then suddenly she’s right in front of me, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to catch her in my arms and twirl her around.
When I set her down, my arms stay around her and her hands stay on my chest.
“This is exciting,” I manage to say.
She nods, her eyes bright. “Yeah. I should go tell my sisters.”
But neither of us moves.
The air around us might be hovering just above freezing, but with Rory’s body pressed against mine, it feels like I’m on fire.
“I want you to have a good Christmas,” I say thickly.