Page 16 of Doctor Holliday
Callie turned to her as the hostess wandered off, presumably checking to make sure a table was free.
“Mac got into UCLA.”
Mac—Amy MacKenzie, Callie’s best friend since fourth grade—probably got a softball scholarship for UCLA. While Lucy was thrilled for Mac—the kid was like a second daughter—the thought of Callie being all the way across the country made her shiver. Lucy didn’t even like thatMacwould be so far away. She would miss her nearly as much as she would miss her own daughter.
“That’s so far away,” she mumbled.
“See? So if I go to Notre Dame, I’m that much closer.”
“Thirteen hours is not close.” Lucy sighed.
The hostess appeared and motioned for them to follow her.
“But closer than UCLA,” Callie said sweetly. “And there are planes, Mother. It’s not like I’d have to drive thirteen hours to get home when I want to come home.”
“You got airfare?” Lucy asked as she scooted into the booth the hostess indicated. “Plane tickets aren’t cheap.”
“My mom’s a doctor,” Callie answered, eyes now on her open menu.
“What’s wrong with Boston? It’s a great school.”
“Can I get a margarita?”
Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head.
It was almost as if this conversation was scripted, because they played it over and over again.
“How about a Shirley Temple?”
“Mac’s mom doesn’t want her to go.”
Lucy shrugged behind her own menu.
“Imagine that.”
She swept her gaze over the menu and then closed it and put it down. To her right, she heard a young voice chattering away about a science experiment. The low-timbered voice that answered made Lucy turn her head.
Keaton Thatcher and his daughter sat in a booth just across from them.
Chapter 8
Sunday,December 10th
Keaton
“Well, Mr. Charvat said his dad had lung cancer,” Ruby announced. “He said it makes him love teaching this unit, but he also sounded sad.”
Keaton nodded as he sipped his iced tea. If Ruby’s science teacher lost his dad to lung cancer, that made sense. After all, educating kids about the dangers of smoking and vaping would be about all one could do in hopes that kids would say no. But Keaton couldn’t imagine standing around every day talking about something that had killed one of his parents.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” Keaton agreed, “but Mr. Charvat thinks it’s important, too, or he wouldn’t be spending so much time on this unit.”
“Keaton?”
He snapped his head to the left, surprised to see Lucy Holliday in the booth across the aisle from them.
“Hey.” He scooched back a bit and turned some in the booth to look at her. Assuming the girl across the table from Lucy was her daughter, he offered her a smile and a nod. “Lucy. How are you?”
“Good.” She glanced at her daughter with a laugh. “This one wears me out every year when we Christmas shop. We always stop here to refuel.”