had seemed to her in that brief moment of watching that he was everything to everybody.
The last thing he needed was a second visit from her.
By the time she ended the call with her sister it was dark outside.
The apartment felt emptier and quieter than ever.
“Christmas never used to be my best time of year when I was growing up.” She tipped food into the bowl for Teddy, the dachshund she was fostering for the local animal shelter. She loved dachshunds. They were lively and playful and unusually devoted. She adored Teddy’s affectionate nature, his silliness and the way he burrowed under her bedcovers. She even loved the way he stubbornly refused to go outdoors when it was raining. “You know how some people love it? It’s their favorite holiday and they can’t wait for it to come around. They start decorating right after Thanksgiving and they love everything that goes with it. That’s not me. Growing up, I always dreaded it. Do you have any idea what school is like for people who can’t sing or talk fluently? Nightmare. Instead of daily humiliation among the small group of people I mixed with, I had giant public humiliation. Worst of all was the year I had to sing ‘Silent Night’ as a solo. It should have been renamed Stammering Night.”
Teddy put his ears forward and tilted his head, sympathizing.
The great thing about dogs, Harriet thought, was that they always sympathized. It didn’t matter what the problem was. Teddy might not understand the words, but Harriet knew he understood the sentiment. She’d often wondered how it was that dogs could be so much more sensitive than humans.
“It wasn’t everyone. Mostly it was Johnny Hill. He was captain of the football team and he made my life hell.”
Teddy thrust his nose into her palm and gave her a comforting lick.
“Fliss punched him. She had to have eight stitches in her head and she was suspended for a while. She was always protecting me. Which was great, but I guess it stopped me learning to do it for myself.”
Teddy whined.
“Tomorrow you’ll be going to your forever home.” She stroked his silky fur, telling herself it was for the best. For Teddy, at least. “And that’s fine. I’m good with that, I really am. I just want what’s best for you and this is definitely what’s best for you.”
Teddy put his head in her lap, looking sorrowful. She could almost convince herself he understood every word she was saying.
“You’re going to be the perfect Christmas gift for them. The family has a weekend home upstate with forty-two acres. Imagine what you can do with that after living here with me. You won’t have to pee on the same tree twice. You’ll be able to dig, and we both know how much you love digging. And I’m going to be fine. After a day or two, I won’t even notice you’re not here.”
She was even lying to the dog now.
What was wrong with her?
Teddy looked at her and she dropped to her knees, wincing as pain shot through her ankle.
“Give me a hug, you lovely thing.”
Teddy launched himself at her chest and she cuddled him, comforted by the warmth of his body. The people adopting Teddy were one lucky family.
“The doctor said I need to ice my ankle. Fancy watching some TV on the sofa? How about Gilmore Girls?”
Teddy wagged his tail.
One day, Harriet thought as she limped to the sofa with him in her arms, she was going to snuggle on the sofa with someone who didn’t have four legs and a wagging tail. Someone as caring and sympathetic as a dog, but with more physical appeal.
Maybe even a gorgeous doctor with blue eyes.
She rolled her eyes. Why did she keep thinking about him? He’d had physical appeal, that was undeniable. But there had been something remote and inaccessible about him, as if he’d drawn a barrier between himself and his patients.
Hot he might be, but he wasn’t her type at all.
A FEW DAYS later Ethan was woken by his phone.
He reached out to grab it and knocked it on the floor.
Emitting curses learned from years in the ER, he retrieved it from under the table and answered it.
“Black.”
“Ethan?”
“Debra?” Recognizing his sister’s voice, he tried to force himself awake. “Everything all right?”
“No.” Her voice sounded thickened. “There’s been an accident.”
“Who? Where?” He sat up, still in that state of disorientation that followed being woken from deep sleep.
“It’s Karen. She’s been hit by a car.”
“What?” Ethan stood up, fully awake now. He was used to delivering bad news. Less accustomed to receiving it. His niece, Karen, was in her first year of college in California and had been having a great time. He adored her, probably because he’d long since accepted that he was unlikely to have children of his own. His sister was ten years older and the birth of her daughter, Karen, when he was sixteen years old had been a highlight. In some ways he was more like an older brother to her than an uncle. “What’s her condition? Do you want me to call the hospital and talk to the medical team?”
“I’ve already spoken with them. They’re discharging soon but she won’t be able to put weight on her leg for a couple of weeks. Mark is still in the Far East. He’ll fly straight to San Francisco but it will take him a long time to get there. I need to leave today. I’ve booked a flight for this afternoon.”
Ethan glanced at the time. “I’ll come with you.”
“You can’t do that. You’ll be working.”
It was true. “Family is more important. I’m coming. I’ll make it work.” He tried not to think about the colleagues he’d be letting down or the research work that was waiting for him. If his sister needed him, she needed him. As far as he was concerned, that was the end of it.
“I can do this on my own, but you have no idea what it means to me that you offered.”
“Debra—”
“No. I mean it. I can do this.”
“If you don’t want me to come with you, what can I do? There has to be something.”
There was a pause. “Is that a genuine offer?”
“Of course.” Ethan checked the time and decided it wasn’t worth going back to sleep again. “What do you need?”
“I need you to take Madi for a few days. Maybe more than a few days. It could be a week or more before we’re home.”
“Madi?” It took Ethan a moment to work out who she was talking about. His sister only had one child. “You mean the dog?”
“I suppose Madi is
