Page 25 of The Nutcracker
He reached into the pocket of his coat and handed me a candy cane.
I laughed.
He pretended to be offended. “Hey, what’s so funny? It’s my Christmas schtick. Doctor Caine and his candy canes. Get it?”
I laughed even more. “I get it.”
He bit his bottom lip and blushed. “It’s corny, I know.”
“No, I love it. Really.”
“Well on that embarrassing note, I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy your Christmas morning together. I hope you have a Merry Christmas.”
As he turned and left the room, Grandma nudged me with her elbow. “He seems rather charming, don’t you think?” She added a wink to her remark.
“Yes, he does,” I agreed, suddenly thinking to myself… everyone deserves a wish.
I hurried out the door and called down the corridor after him. “Doctor Curtis.”
He turned and smiled when he saw me. “You want another candy cane?”
“No,” I grinned. “I was hoping… maybe sometime… you might like to catch up.”
He paused. “To talk about your grandmother?”
“Um, actually, I thought being new in town and all, you might like to go get a drink sometime. Do you like eggnog?”
He gave a chuckle. “I love eggnog.”
“I thought you might.”
Chapter Twelve
As the autumn leaves swirled and danced through the air, I guided Curtis by the hand to the storefront on the corner of Main and Partridge.
“Keep your eyes closed. Don’t open them yet. No peeking, swear it.”
“I swear I’m not peeking. Just please don’t let me trip again.”
“I won’t. But if you do fall I’ll kiss it better, I promise.”
“Now you’re making me want to trip over on purpose.”
I grinned. “Just a few more steps.”
For the past nine months Curtis and I had gone from getting-to-know-each-other to falling-in-love. Grandma loved being at Cedar Village and feeling as though she was the doctor’s favorite. Her memory had improved with the help of several programs Curtis had implemented. She had even patched things up with pumpkin-pie-recipe-stealing Mrs. Pritchard. At the same time I had managed to work from home on a few freelance jobs with a couple of engineering firms in Chicago and New York.
The money I made had gone into funding my new dream: renovating Mr. Hanover’s old toy shop.
“Okay stop. Face this way. And… open your eyes.”
Curtis did as I told him and his handsome face took on an expression of pride and surprise. “Oh wow! I knew you had something wonderful in mind, but this is amazing!”
Christmas lights shone in the window of the once empty toy shop, illuminating a busy, brightly-coloured display of dozens and dozens of shimmering toys and glittering ornaments. Above the door hung a sign printed in gold and framed in flourishes of holly and pine cones that readThe Nutcracker.
As he stared in awe at the window, we heard the voice of Mrs. Clements as she made her way hurriedly toward us. “He’s been working very hard fixing this place up,” she told Curtis. “I’ve been noticing.”
“I’ve noticed you noticing, Mrs. Clements,” I said politely. “I’ve had to wipe your nose print off the window more than once.”