Chapter 7

“So… she wants to switch physical therapists?” Allen asked his supervisor, Mrs. Billings. Supplies covered her desk: mail trays, a phone, a stack of files, a computer and printer, and her half-filled coffee mug with an apple red heart in the center. 

A few inspirational quotes decorated the plain white walls, including the quote from Henry Ford. “If you think you can or can’t do a thing, you’re right.” The quote resonated with Allen every time he entered her office. Mrs. Billings didn’t usually call him to her office, but today was an exception because of the case of Heather Shaw.

“That’s what she said. She said no offense to you but she preferred someone else. Is there something you need to tell me?” she asked as she slid her cabinet file shut. 

“No, I did my job and she asked me to leave.”

Mrs. Billings pressed her glasses back on her face. “Yvette is on maternity leave and we already have a full load as it is here. What happened?”

“I only got through one exercise with her. She got flustered and asked me to leave.”

“You and I both know we have to be sensitive to the emotional needs of our patients.”

“I know and I was, at least that’s what I thought.”

“I’m sure you did. You’ve proven yourself in such a short amount of time. I suggest you try again.”

“I’ll get the job done, Mrs. Billings,” he said.

His supervisor sighed. “If it’s still not a good fit, then we’ll do a formal transfer for Heather.”

With a nod of his head, Allen returned to the hallway. Looking ahead, he saw a few patients shuffling along for their exercises. He rubbed the back of his head. He would finish his job, regardless of Heather’s attitude. When his cell buzzed inside his pocket, Allen looked to see his father calling. It wasn’t until he heard the request that he regretted answering.

“You want me to what?” he asked. Trying to process what his father asked him, he blinked.

“I need you to take my place helping with the Christmas festival. They need help building the Candy Cane Runway, the Twinkle Tunnel, and the hot cocoa station.”

Surely, Allen heard him wrong. “What in the world is a Twinkle Tunnel?”

“Look it up, son. I promise it exists. The kids eat it up for pictures,” his father said.

“Dad with work I don’t think—”

“I know you’re busy, but I can’t help this year. Doctor’s orders.”

A slight tenseness increased in Allen’s muscles. “Dad, I—”

“It would help me out, son.”

He couldn’t say no. Not this time. His father wouldn’t ask unless he needed him. “Who do I talk to?”

“I’ll give Diana your number and she’ll tell you everything you need to know,” his father said.

“Okay, Dad.”

***

Allen stopped by his house before walking through the doors of Maple Meadow High School. He passed the trophy case and the student-painted murals. He smelled the mix of paint and cleaning supplies. Passing the lockers, he came to the cafeteria.

Bright fluorescent lights hung overhead and rows of long tables with plastic chairs spaced out along them. There was laughter among the townspeople along with talking. Chairs scraped the floor as they maneuvered the decorations around. Was that a Gingerbread head-in-hole? They took Christmas seriously.

It was now or never. Allen pushed through the door scanning for a friendly face. He didn’t know what Diana looked like, but her voice sounded pleasant on the phone.

“You must be Allen,” the familiar voice said.

Allen waved at the woman with salt-pepper hair. She clapped her hands together and pulled him into a hug. “We’re so glad you’re here. You’re just in time.”

Allen took a step back, not expecting such a warm embrace. “Thanks Mrs…?”

“It’s Shaw, but call me Diana, please. Or Ms. Diana if you’d like.”

“Shaw? Are you—”

“Mom, where’s the rest of the garland?”

Allen cleared his throat spotting Heather sitting in one of the plastic chairs, with her leg propped up in one. Her crutch leaned against the wall. They locked eyes, and she dropped the garland in her hands.

“Heather, ask Abigail,” her mother replied. She turned back to Allen. “Now about the Twinkle Tunnel.” She looped her arm through his. “It will be in the far corner. For the hot cocoa stand, we want it close to the kitchen. I have the design plans from last year. Now for the candy cane lane—”

“Diana, we need the decorations for the tree,” a voice called out.

Diana tilted her head to the side. “And this is just the festival. I can’t wait until the tree lighting ceremony. I’ll be back.”

Allen took off his coat, placing it on a table. He would have been lying to say he didn’t enjoy seeing Heather again, despite her attitude towards him. Judging from her frown, she wasn’t excited to see him.

***

Heather checked all the lights around the garland. Her plan was to call and apologize to Allen. Why was he here? He didn’t do Christmas, not from the way he felt about the Sawyer’s Christmas party. Her shoulders slumped as she avoided eye contact with him. There was no harm done, right? She wasn’t rude to him, only unpleasant. 

She sighed. Her mother taught her better manners than that. He was only there to help. He was doing his job, and she practically threw him out of her house. 

Not wanting to drag out the issue, she lifted her chin and waved him over. At first, he glanced around as if wondering if she meant him. She did. Allen made his way across the room.

“You need something?” he asked.

“Have a seat, please,” Heather said.

He pulled up a chair and sat down. Heather handed him a piece of the garland.

“What am I doing with this?”

“Checking to see if all the bulbs work.” She leaned over and plugged it into the wall. “We’ve had it for years but we always check in case we need to replace it.”

Allen nodded.

“The last time we saw each other…. I was rude.”

“I understood.”

“No, I was rude. I’m truly sorry.”

“Is that why you asked for another therapist?”

Heather’s chin dipped low. “I’m sorry about that too. Apparently, you’re the only one available.” She faced him once more.

“I can help you. The question is, will you let me?” he said.

His voice lowered then, making the hairs on the nape of her neck rise.

“Ms. Heather! Look! Look!” a child’s voice interrupted.

Heather diverted her gaze to Emily, one of the six-year-old twin daughters of Abigail Campbell. “You did it!”

Emily held up her snowflake Heather had taught her to make. The pig-tailed girl with rosy cheeks then turned to Allen. “You like it?”

Allen squinted his eyes and inspected Emily’s artwork. “I think… it’s perfect.”

“Are you Ms. Heather’s friend?” Emily asked.

Allen looked over at Heather. “It depends on her.”

“Be his friend Ms. Heather,” Emily said. “He’s nice. He likes my snowflake.”

The moment was sweet. Heather's lips parted to answer just as Allen whispered something in the little girl’s ear. Emily giggled and skipped away to her mother. 

Heather folded her arms across her chest. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her I would be your friend if you let me.”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Why do I think there’s more to this?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Allen?” Her mother called out. “We need you over here.”

Allen waved to Heather’s mother as he stood from his seat. “I’ll see you for our next session.”

Heather had no response. She needed to go home. Stealing furtive gazes at the handsome physical therapist across the room was only a distraction. Did he stare back a few times as he worked on the hot cocoa stand? 

A few more townspeople came and helped with the decorating. Even Abigail brought sandwiches for the parents and children to eat. Heather avoided Allen for the next hour but noticed him sitting with a few of the fathers at a nearby table. His smile was captivating, but she dropped eye contact. She’d seen smiles on handsome men before. This Allen guy was no different.

When her mother called it a night for the volunteers around 8:30 PM, she was more than ready to go. If she had been able to run, she’d have dashed out the door. Instead, Heather carefully moved her braced knee to the floor, then grabbed her coat and reached for her crutches.

“Heather, wait,” her mother said, with a warning in her tone.

Heather could grab her crutch. She wasn’t helpless, but when her crutch plopped on the linoleum floor, she gritted her teeth. 

“I got it,” Allen said.

Heather steadied herself on one foot and took the crutch from him to keep her balance. “Thank you.”

Allen’s eyes grew firm, with intense contact. “You’re welcome.”

Did her skin flush? Did a smile build on his lips?

“Oh, dear,” Heather’s mother said, interrupting the moment. “Your sister needs a ride home. Her car won’t start.”

“Okay let’s go.” Heather hobbled past her mother.

“I’m taking you home first. You need to get off that leg. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into bringing you here.” Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Mom, I’m fine. Let’s go get Sonia.” Heather needed to get away from Allen. Whatever was brewing between them, she didn’t like it.

“Allen, would you be a dear and take Heather home?” her mother asked.

His lips parted. “Ms. Diana I—”

“I don’t know him.” Heather pointed to Allen as her eyebrows shot up.

Her mother dismissed her comment with a raised hand. “I know his father and that’s good enough for me. Besides, he’s the reason you made it to the hospital after your accident. I know I can trust him.” She averted her gaze to him. “Will you? Everyone else here has to get their children home.”

Heather stared at her mother. “Mom, I don’t think Allen wants—”

“Sure. No problem.” Did he agree? Why?

Heather sucked on her bottom lip. Her mother kissed her cheek and headed out the door.

Allen gestured for them to follow. “Shall we?”

For a minute, Heather shook her head. “Fine.”

The walk to his truck was a silent one. When they came to the passenger door, Allen opened it for her. She handed him her crutch.

“I’ll help you up.”

“Thanks.” She forced a smile.

“Are you always like this?” he asked.

“Like what?”

His mouth slackened. “Nothing. Will you let me help you up?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Heather lifted her bad knee and grabbed the handle above to pull herself up. Allen’s hand touched the middle of her back for support and her breath hitched. She coughed as a reaction and settled into the passenger seat. 

He handed her crutch to her and closed the door. Her palms sweated as she waited for him to join her inside. Once she gave him directions to her house, Allen pulled out of the school parking lot.

 Heather swallowed. “So how are you liking Maple Meadow?”

“Not bad.”

“You thought it would be?”

“Sometimes change takes time. You always liked it here?”

That was an understatement. “I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Maple Meadow is a great place to grow up.”

 ”It’s just you and your sister?”

“Yes.”

 “You two close?”

“She’s my best friend. What about you? Any brothers?”

“No, only child over here. My cousin Desmond is like a brother, so that counts for me.”

“Desmond as in Desmond Anderson?”

“My dad is his mom’s brother,” Allen said.

“Wow.” Heather’s lips parted.

“I know. He’s a character.”

She giggled. “Yeah, I think that sums it up. He and Morgan are made for each other.”

“I’m glad he met her. She keeps him grounded.”

“You seeing anyone?” Heather’s eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth. What did she care if he was involved with someone? Did she see a ring? What did it matter? “Sorry. You don't have to answer that.”

“To answer your question, no,” he said. He turned the corner into her neighborhood. “What about you?”

“No.” Heather tucked some loose hairs from her ponytail behind her ear.

“So this town goes all out for Christmas?”

“Best time of the year I think. Not your thing?”

“It used to be.”

“What changed?” Another prying question. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He didn’t look at her. “It’s not a big deal.”

Heather nodded as he pulled into her driveway. She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “I can get out on my own.”

Allen hurried to her side and helped her down. With his hands at her waist, she slowly descended until her good foot met the ground. Heather licked her lips as she looked up at Allen. His hands fell from her waist. She inhaled his manly scent once more only to clear her throat.

“Okay. Well, thank you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re welcome.”

“So… I’ll see you…”

“Tomorrow.”

She waved as she walked to her front door as best she could. She didn’t look back.

***

Allen returned to his truck with a faint grin on his face. What a night. Nothing could have prepared him for putting together a hot cocoa stand or little Emily who took to him and asked him random questions throughout the night. One in particular, “are you married?” Thankfully, her mother called her over to help her with the candy cane painting. He still wasn’t used to it. Would he ever be?

Then Heather’s mother volunteered him to drive her daughter home. He didn’t argue with Ms. Diana. In fact, he welcomed the challenge. He could tell Heather was a firecracker. She said what was on her mind but was still compassionate enough to admit her mistakes. When she called him over to talk, her apology took him aback. 

On the ride to her house, he avoided her gaze on purpose. Her eyes sparkled to the point he could stare all day. Pulling up to her house, he didn’t shrink back and asked if she needed help to get inside. 

When she waved from the window, he waved back. He would see her soon enough. He looked forward to it.

Then he shook his head. No way. She was a patient, and he was only there for her therapy. Allen needed to keep that in mind. He tried his best as he drove home.