Susan Carlisle - Hot Docs On Call - His Christmas Wish

She had to run.

Had to.

Yet, try as she might, nothing was happening.

Run, McKenzie, run before…

Before what?

She wasn’t sure. There was nothing to run to. Was she running from something?

She turned, was shocked to see Lance standing behind her.

Again, she tried to move her feet, but nothing happened. Desperation pumped through her. She had to get away from him. Fast.

She glanced down at her running shoes and frowned. Gone were her running shoes and in their place were concrete blocks where her shoes and feet should be.

What was going on?

She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Lance was casually strolling toward her. He was taking his time, not in any rush, not even breaking a sweat, but he was steadily closing the gap between them.

Grinning in that carefree way he had, he blew her a kiss and panic filled her.

People were all around, watching them, gawking, pointing and staring.

Run, McKenzie, run.

It’s what she did.

What she always did.

But she’d never had concrete blocks for feet before.

Which really didn’t make sense. How could her feet be concrete blocks?

Somewhere in the depths of her fuzzy mind she realized she was dreaming.

Unable to run?

People everywhere staring at her?

That wasn’t a dream.

That was a nightmare.

Even if it was Lance who was closing in on her and he seemed quite happy with his pursuit and inevitable capture of her.

“The radiologist just called me with the report on Edith’s CT and D-dimer.” McKenzie stood in Lance’s office doorway, taking him in at his desk. His brown hair was ruffled and when his gaze met hers, his eyes were as bright as the bluest sky.

“She has a pulmonary embolism?” Lance asked.

“He called you, too?”

“No, I just figured that was the case after listening to her last night and the things you said.”

“That doesn’t explain the blood she spat up. She shouldn’t have spat up blood with a clot in her lungs. That doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re right. Makes me wonder what else is going on. Did they get the sputum culture sent off?”

“Yes, with her first morning cough-up. Her pulmonologist is supposed to see her this morning. Her cardiologist, too.”

“That’s good.”

Suddenly, McKenzie felt uncomfortable standing in Lance’s doorway. What had she been thinking when she’d sought him out to tell him of Edith’s test results?

Obviously, she hadn’t been thinking.

She could have texted him Edith’s results.

She’d just given in to the immediate desire to tell him, to see him, to share her anxiety over the woman’s diagnosis. She really liked Edith and had witnessed Lance’s affection for her, too.

“Um, well, I thought you’d want to know. I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, taking a step backward and feeling more and more awkward by the moment.

“Thank you, McKenzie.”

Awkward.

“You’re welcome.” She turned, determined to get out of Dodge as quickly as possible.

“McKenzie?”

Heart pounding in her throat, she slowly turned back toward him. “Yes?”

His gaze met hers and he asked, “Dinner tonight if I don’t see you before then?”

Relief washed over her.

“If you do see me before, what then? Do I not get dinner? Just dessert or something?”

He grinned. “You do keep me on my toes.”

Since he was sitting down, she didn’t comment, just waited on him to elaborate.

“Regardless of when we next see each other, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight, McKenzie. As you well know, I’m also good for dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she answered, wondering why she felt so relieved that he’d asked, that they had plans to see each other after work hours. He’d been asking her for weeks and she’d been saying no. Now that she was willing to say yes, had she thought he wasn’t going to ask?

“Great.” His smile was bigger now, his dimples deeper. “We can discuss what we’re going to wear for the Christmas parade. I’m thinking you should be a sexy elf.”

“A sexy elf, hmm?” she mused, trying to visualize what he was picturing in his mind. He’d make a much sexier Santa’s helper than she would. Maybe he should do the sexy-elf thing. “I haven’t agreed to be in the Christmas parade,” she reminded him.

“It’ll be fun. The mayor’s float is based on a children’s story about a grumpy fellow who hates Christmas until a little girl shows him the true meaning of the holidays. It’s a perfect float theme.”

“I get to do weird things to my hair and wear ear and nose extensions that make me look elfish for real?” she asked with false brightness.

“You do. Don’t forget the bright clothes.”

She narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “And you’re going to do the same?”

“I’m not sure about doing weird things to my hair.” He ran his fingers through his short brown locks. “But I can get into the colorful Christmas spirit if that makes you happy.”

This should be good. Seeing him in his float clothes would be worth having to come up with a costume of her own. After all, she had a secret weapon: Cecilia, who rocked makeup and costumes.

“Well, then. Sign me up for some Christmas float happiness.”

Cecilia really was like a Christmas float costume secret weapon. A fairy godmother.

She walked around McKenzie, her lips twisted and her brow furrowed in deep thought.

“We can use heavy-duty bendable hair wires to wrap your hair around to make some fancy loops.” Cecelia studied McKenzie’s hair. “That and lots of hair spray should do the trick.”

“What about for an outfit?”

“K-I-S-S.”

“What?”

“Keep It Simple, Stupid. Not that you’re stupid,” Cecilia quickly added. “Just don’t worry about trying to overdo anything. You’ve got less than a week to put something together. The mayor may not be expecting you to be dressed up.”

“Lance says we are expected to dress up.”

Cecilia’s eyes lit with excitement, as if she’d been patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask but had gotten distracted at the prospect of having her way with McKenzie’s hair and costume makeup. “How is the good doctor?”

“Good. Very good.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened. “Really?”

McKenzie looked heavenward, which in this case was the glittery ceiling of Bev’s Beauty Boutique. “I’ve kissed the man. That’s it. But, yes, he was very good at that.”

Cecilia let out a disappointed sight. “Just kissing?”

Her lips against Lance’s could never be called “just kissing,” but she wasn’t going to point that out to Cecilia.

“What did you think I meant when I said he was very good?”

“You know exactly what I thought, what I was hoping for. What’s holding you back?”

McKenzie shrugged. “We’ve barely been on three dates, and that’s if you count the community Christmas show, which truly shouldn’t even count but since he kissed me for the first time that night, I will.” Why was she sounding so breathy and letting her sentences run together? “You think I should have already invited him between my sheets?”

“If I had someone that sexy looking at me the way that man looks at you, I’d have invited him between my sheets long ago.”

McKenzie shrugged again. “There’s no rush.”

“No rush?” Shaking her head, Cecilia frowned. “I’m concerned.”