before touching the door. She encountered resistance in pushing it open and found Clancy with one hand on the wooden surface as if he’d gotten tired of waiting.
“You can’t go in there. She has the flu. They’re taking precautions to keep it from spreading.”
“Damn. I asked her to get her flu shot. I thought she did, but maybe not.”
Ava had always been the free-spirited, independent one in their group. Even so, she’d been devastated when the baby’s father had decided he couldn’t do the whole parental responsibility thing. As if to prove that fact, he’d found someone else almost immediately after they’d broken up. “You know about the dad.”
He gave her a searching look before nodding. “Yeah, he made her promises he never intended to keep. He should be ashamed.”
Had Clancy aimed that jab at himself? They’d shared a kiss that had been pretty hot and heavy, but a week later he’d become someone she hadn’t recognized. All he’d said was that the kiss had been a mistake, showing up with another girl soon afterward. And another one a few weeks after that. It had been a slap in the face and had proved that bad boys did not make good marriage material. Even Jacob had commented on the way Clancy had been acting.
While she’d still been stinging from Clancy’s rejection, Jacob had asked her out, and she’d accepted. At first it had been a way to get back at him. But slowly, over the course of six months, she’d realized she and Jacob actually had a lot in common and when he’d proposed, she said yes. She’d loved him, but that spark of passion she’d felt for Clancy had never been there.
At first she’d thought it was because she’d over-romanticized that kiss and the connection she thought they’d shared. That feeling had gotten worse when Jacob seemed to distance himself emotionally. Initially, she’d chalked it up to her imagination. But a year before he died, that apathy had become marked, and her request to start a family as a last-ditch attempt to put things right had been met with a chilly response. She’d been crushed, and a seed of inadequacy had sprouted. First Clancy and then Jacob. Was there something about her that drove away people she cared about?
All but Ava. They’d remained close, but she’d never felt comfortable sharing her problems with Clancy or Jacob with her. Clancy was her brother. And Jacob...well, he’d been one of Ava’s friends too.
In the end, Clancy hadn’t even come to their wedding, something that had hurt both her and Jacob.
The funeral had actually been the first time she’d seen him since getting married. That had been five years ago. It might as well have been a lifetime.
Ava was whisked out of the room and down the hallway, reminding Hollee what was really important right now—and it certainly wasn’t her melancholy thoughts. Or things she could no longer change.
Clancy’s face was a tense mask, and she gripped his arm, the warmth of his skin making her realize how cold her own hands had become. Ava had a big team of staff with her, and Clancy had no one right now, and she ached for him. “Come on. Let’s grab a cup of coffee. And then we’ll sit and wait for news.”
“I want to be in there.”
“You can’t, Clance. You know that. Ava needs to concentrate and so does her team. And the last thing you need is to carry the virus into one of your surgeries.”
“Hell, how did I not know she was sick?”
She smiled. “Are you serious? Ava is one of the strongest people I know. She’s also the most stubborn. ‘Show no weakness’—remember?”
That had always been the de Oliveira siblings’ motto.
The flexing of muscles made her realize her fingers were still clutching his upper arm. She released him in a hurry.
“I can’t believe she didn’t come in sooner.” He dragged a hand through his hair.
“I’ve been checking on her periodically but, honestly, she probably didn’t even realize she had the flu. We get sick, and we wait it out. It’s the way humans are geared. She had a pretty high fever, which is probably what triggered labor.”
He leaned a shoulder again the wall. “She wants this baby. Despite everything.”
“Of course she does.” Hollee would have too, had the situation been reversed. But it wasn’t. She swallowed away the sudden lump in her throat and inclined her head to point down the hallway. “The sooner we hit the cafeteria, the sooner we can come back and wait for news.”
“Are you on break?
“I actually worked the night shift. I just got off about fifteen minutes ago, but I heard the noise and decided to see if I could help.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you were here. I might have gotten myself tossed out of the hospital before I’d been in town a week.”
“That would be unfortunate. Especially with the Appalachia trip coming up.”
And why had she even brought up the relief mission? The last thing she needed to be thinking about right now were those two weeks. Not when she hadn’t quite figured out how she felt about being there with him.
They made their way to the first floor, and as the elevator doors opened she was met with the hospital’s Christmas trimmings that had gone up in the last couple of days. Three festive trees were clustered to the side of the huge glass entry doors, the sparkle of silvery tinsel catching the light. On the other side stood a life-sized animated Santa, his bag of toys thrown over one shoulder, his head swiveling from side to side as if looking for his sleigh.
Above them, glittery snowflakes hung from fishing line, the climate-control system making them dance.
She’d always loved this time of year. “The hospital does a great job decorating.”
“Hmm...”
The sound was so noncommittal that it made her laugh. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s just different from the places I’ve worked.”
Of course it was. “The military doesn’t decorate for the holidays?”
“They do, it’s just not normally so...” He paused, as if searching for the right word. “So extravagant.”
Hollee looked with different eyes and could see how he might think that. “I’m sure where we’re going, then, you’ll feel right at home.” Then, wondering if that sounded pompous, she added, “It’s not the decorations that make Christmas special. It’s the spirit behind it. Arlington Regional has a lot of children who walk through those doors. And sometimes they need a little bit of hope—a little bit of magic.”
“I never thought of it that way. I guess I’m used to dealing with cynical adults whose deep pockets only give up funds for other things.”
“Things that save lives.” She smiled. “But you’re right. I think it all depends on its target audience.”
If things went as planned she would be here to help out on at least one of the hospital’s “Staff Santa” afternoons in the next couple of weeks, when they handed out gifts in the pediatric ward. It was always fun to
