The Wedding Date: A Christmas Novella (11 page)

His head popped out through his T-shirt. “I’ll be back when I can, okay?”

She put on a plastic smile, strove for casual while she was shaking inside. “Tomorrow’s the wedding, so, you know . . .” She let it peter out.

“Yeah, I know. I’m your date, remember?” He smiled, but doubt crept into it.

She flapped a stiff hand, did a phony chuckle. “That was for Brad’s benefit. You’re not on the hook for the wedding.”

He came toward her, unmistakable hurt in his eyes. “Julie. Honey, don’t do this.” He took her face in his hands, kissed her lips gently. She didn’t respond, and when he pulled back to meet her eyes, she looked down.

“Be careful,” she said. “It’s slippery outside.”

He let his hands fall. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he repeated. Then he took his jacket and went out. She heard his boots pound the stairs, the door thump below. And all was still.

She stood rooted in place as the sleet lashed the windows. Then a shiver ran through her from her head to her toes. She clasped her robe, but the cold came from within, wrapping around her throat, freezing her lips.

As her body chilled, her mind overheated. Her thoughts jumbled together, a montage of despair. Cody sprinting through the cold. Victims bleeding on the pavement. David sucking his last breath. The grisly images ran together, indelibly linked, engraved on her brain.

Like a fast-moving poison, panic spread through her veins. She clutched the counter like it was her sanity, watched her knuckles turn white with the strain.
This
was why she steered clear of doctors. They stirred up the past, stuck a knife in her pain.

She’d been doing just fine before Cody came along with his drawl and his smile. She’d made a mistake letting him get close, and she was paying for it now with angst and cold sweat.

But it was over, she was done with him. Tomorrow, she’d dish him off on Murph, send a text to let him know.

And even if it meant moving out of Beacon Hill, she’d make sure she never saw Cody Brown again.

Chapter Ten

“D
R
. B
ROWN.”
A hand shook his shoulder. He rolled away from it, burrowing into the pillow. “Cody.” A harder shake. “Go home.”

Those last words got his attention. He forced his eyes open, scrubbed his hands over his face. “What time is it?” The words crunched like ground glass in his dry throat.

“Almost noon.”

“Shit.” He swung his legs off the spare bed he’d crashed out on, worked up a half smile for Marianne and glugged the sludgy coffee she handed him. “You missed a hell of a night.”

“So I hear. It’s turned to snow, but there’s still ice underneath, so be careful out there.” She eyed his boots. “Better switch to L.L.Bean for the winter.” She laughed when he shuddered. “Have you hooked up with Julie Marone yet?”

He shrugged into his jacket. “Going to see her right now.”

Marianne looked surprised. “I know she’s dedicated, but showing condos on Christmas Eve?” She shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I suppose you’re in a hurry to get Betsy out here.”

“You bet.” Everyone at the hospital assumed Betsy was his girl. He’d never corrected them. It was simpler that way, at least for now.

Outside, snow fell in a white sheet. The pavement around the hospital had been plowed and treated, the main roads too, so footing wasn’t a problem there.

But when he crossed Charles Street and began the climb up into Beacon Hill, his boots might as well have been greased. “Fuck!” he yelled, skating backward toward the roadway.

By sheer luck, he snagged a light pole with one hand. Momentum wound him around it until he hugged it like a lover. Grateful to be alive, he dredged up a rusty prayer of thanks as the cars
shissed
past an arm’s length away.

He’d caught his breath and was considering his options, all of them embarrassing, when an off-duty cab pulled up alongside him. The cabbie lowered the window, looked him over. “Not from around here, are you, pal?”

Cody scratched his head like he was puzzled. “Can’t figure out why folks keep asking me that,” he drawled.

The guy chuckled. “Get in, cowboy.”

Letting go of the pole, Cody slid sideways till his hip bumped the door, then sighed profoundly when his ass hit the duct-taped seat.

The cabbie eyed him in the mirror. “Place a couple blocks up. Outdoor gear. Boots, gloves. That kinda shit.”

“Appreciate it,” Cody said, hoping Julie would appreciate the lengths he was going to get back to her. She’d been upset when he left, but in his experience, women often got upset when he ran out in the middle of sex. Most of the time, they were over it when he got back, and happy to pick up where they left off.

An hour later, tricked out for a moonwalk, he leaned on her bell and waited for her to come downstairs and make fun of him.

But she didn’t come. He rang again. Then once more.

He snooped around, spotted footprints mostly covered with fresh snow. Maybe she’d gone to the store. Yeah. He could meet up with her, carry the groceries.

Sheltering under the tiny overhang, he punched her number into his phone. It rang and rang, finally went to voicemail.

He slumped against the door, stared out at the falling snow. And made himself consider that maybe—and he could hardly believe it—but maybe, after all that hot sex and cuddling and staring into each other’s eyes, she was blowing him off.

Or maybe not. Maybe she’d gone off to Amelia’s to do wedding stuff. Maybe she just forgot to leave him a note or a text or a voicemail to let him know.

It could happen.

He clomped off in that direction, cursing the storm that had dragged him out of her arms.

Ray answered the door in sock feet. “Hey, Cody. Come on in.”

Cody stomped off the snow and stepped into the hallway. He shook Ray’s hand. “Today’s the day. You ready?”

“I guess.” Ray checked his watch. “Four more hours as a bachelor.” He grinned. “Want a beer?”

Cody shook his head with regret. “It’d knock me on my ass.” He glanced over Ray’s shoulder. “Julie here?”

“She’s off with Amelia, doing stuff at the church. They’re getting dressed there too, so they won’t be back.”

“Where’s the church?”

Ray looked down at his socks. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”

Cody’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry.” Ray rubbed his toe on the tile. “Jules was pretty strong about it. Amelia tried to change her mind, but . . .” He shrugged.

Cody scratched his jaw. Three days growth, and counting. “I could beat it out of you.”

Ray’s eyes bugged. “Shit, Cody, you’d break me in half!”

“Yep. So why don’t we just cut to the chase? Tell ’em I roughed you up and you spilled your guts.”

Ray considered it. “Wouldn’t that leave, you know, bruises?”

“Say I went Jack Bauer on you. No marks, just pain.”

Ray perked up. “Remember that time he was gonna pop a guy’s eye out with a pen? Let’s say that.”

“You got it.” Cody nodded along. “Now where’s the fucking church?”

T
HE CHURCH WAS
small, more of a chapel. Grey stone walls, worn wooden pews. Statues in each corner of Jesus and Mary, Joseph and St. Francis. Votives flickered in red glass at their feet.

Amelia surveyed the modest altar, bordered with a double tier of red and white poinsettias. “A Christmas Eve wedding sure saves a bundle on flowers,” she observed.

“Mmm.” Julie didn’t look up. She looped a white bow over the end of a pew. Moved on to the next one.

“More money for heroin and hookers on the honeymoon,” Amelia went on.

“Mmm.”

“Less to regret during the inevitable divorce.”

“Uh-huh.”

Amelia walked up behind her, poked her in the side.

“AHHHHH!” Julie leapt four feet. “What the hell, Amelia!”

“Just making sure you weren’t replaced by a robot.”

Julie glared. “Very funny.”

“Seriously. It’s my
wedding day
and you’re not even
into
it.”

Julie had to give her that one. “Sorry. I’ll do better.” She grinned an extra-toothy grin.

Amelia rolled her eyes, relieved her of some of the ribbons. “You can make it up to me by telling me who you’re bringing to the wedding. I don’t know why it’s such a big secret.”

Julie plunked down in a pew, came out with the truth she’d been ducking all day. “Listen sweetie, I hate to disappoint you on your wedding day, but I’m not bringing a date.”

Amelia threw up a hand. “Not even Brad? For God’s sake, Jules, he’s perfect!”

Julie weighed her words. “He seems very nice. Good looking. Easy to talk to.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“He just . . . didn’t do it for me.”

Amelia put her hand on her hip. “Admit it. You want Cody.”

“No, I don’t.” Julie said it too quickly, felt heat creep up her neck. She turned her back on her sister and fiddled with the ribbons.

But Amelia wouldn’t drop it. “What if he wasn’t a doctor? What then?”

“It doesn’t matter. He
is
a doctor.”

“Jules—”

“It’s a deal breaker,” Julie cut in, “and it’s not negotiable.”

“But—”

“Enough!” Julie chopped a hand through the air. The long night dragged at her, both the good parts and the bad, fraying her patience, shredding her nerves. “You don’t understand, Amelia. You weren’t there at the hospital, in the doctor’s offices, the waiting rooms.”

She slapped the ribbons down on a pew. “You didn’t smell the horrible smells. Medicine and antiseptic and vomit and shit. You didn’t see the hope live and die in David’s eyes every time some doctor offered him a lifeline that broke as soon as he grabbed it.”

Anger boiled over into tears. They spilled down her cheeks. It was the worst time for a breakdown, but she couldn’t stop.

“The doctors,” she raved, “they walked in and out of our lives like . . . like waiters or doormen or the salesclerk at Store 24. We were just customers to them. They showed up for ten minutes and they got paid, live or die. They didn’t even care which it was!”

She was sobbing now, overtired and babbling, making no sense because her thoughts no longer made sense, even to her. “Don’t you see? The doctors, they’re all about suffering, and dying, and playing golf at their country clubs. They can’t really do anything, they just want people to think they can so they can take their money and leave them with nothing.
Nothing.
”

Amelia had her by the shoulders. She pulled her into a hug, stroked her hair. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

Julie shook in her arms, throat hitching, nose streaming. “Cody reminds me,” she got out. “He reminds me how it was. I can’t go there again. I can’t do it.”

“It’s okay, baby,” her sister crooned. “You don’t have to see him. You don’t have to see Cody ever again.”

“Like hell she doesn’t,” boomed a voice from the back of the church. “I’m damned if I’ll take the heat for every fucked-up doctor and incurable cancer in the whole fucking world.”

Cody strode down the aisle, long legs eating up the distance at ten times his normal pace. Snow fell in clumps from his shoulders, flew off the hood he shoved back. His eyes burned, his teeth showed, and the set of his hard, scruffy jaw said he was madder than hell.

Watching him come, Julie didn’t know what to do. Fear and desire and guilt and grief all did battle in her head and her heart. Unable to choose between fight or flight, she froze like a rabbit, while Amelia, brave Amelia, stepped in front of her.

“Cody—”

“You should go to Ray,” he said. “I had to beat the church out of him.”

Amelia’s mouth formed an O. Her fists balled at her sides. “Ray’s half your size! If you hurt him . . . If you hurt my sister . . .”

“I’ve never hurt a woman and I’m not starting in church on Christmas Eve. Now go help your man before it’s too late.”

“Jules, come with me.” She gripped Julie’s arm.

“Just go,” Julie said, knowing it was a ploy. Cody’d never hurt Ray. What he might do to her, she didn’t know, but any pain he inflicted wouldn’t be physical.

She faced off with him as Amelia fled. “Have your say, tough guy,” she said, finding her nerve. “And then go away. You’re not invited to this wedding.”

He advanced on her till he was glowering down. She held her ground, wiped her nose on her sleeve. Nothing like having it out without a tissue in sight.

“You ran out on me,” he growled, a menacing drawl. “I went through hell and high water to get back to you, and you ran out on me.”

“Funny, I remember
you
leaving
me
.”

“People were hurt. They needed me. I got home as soon as I could.”

He didn’t notice that he’d called her place home, but she did. It made her want to reach out and hold him.

She dug in her heels. “Listen, Cody.” Her voice lacked force. She bucked it up. “You’re a nice guy—”

“No I’m not.” He leaned in. “I’m all kinds of trouble. And I won’t walk away and make this easy. You’re a mess, Jules, a fucked-up head case.”

She flinched like he’d slapped her. His lip curled up. “I told you I wasn’t nice. But I
am
honest. Which you’re not. You want to blame all the shit in the world on the men in white coats, even though you know it’s bullshit.”

His words stung, but she fell back on her usual retort. “You don’t understand—”

“The hell I don’t. I just stood over a twelve-year-old girl who won’t see Christmas this year. I had to tell her mother, who punched me right here with her fist.” He slapped his chest. “You want to hit me, Jules? Will that make you feel better?” He spread his arms. “Take your shot. It won’t change a thing.”

She shook her head, backed away. Nothing made sense when he was near.

He lowered his arms, took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle.

“I know you want to blame somebody. You want to find a reason for the whole shitty thing. I can’t help you with that. I can’t tell you why David died, or why anyone dies. Most of the time, it seems pretty random. But I can tell you this.
Another
twelve-year-old girl is alive right now because I went to the hospital last night. I saved her life.
Her
mother didn’t lose a daughter.”