Page 52 of The Forever Christmas Tree

Ethan was about to step forward and stop Cassie. The rest of them could act as wild as they wanted, but Cassie might twist her hip the wrong way, and it would be weeks of rehab before she was walking normal, or semi-normal, again. Funny, though, her limp didn’t show when she danced. He’d never realized that before.

Wendy stopped him by putting a hand on his upper arm and tugging him across the hall.

“But she might hurt—”

“She’s fine. C’mon. Remember when we used to do that dance?”

“Oh, yeah.” I remember that and a lot more.

“We did have moves.”

Seriously? You expect me to react to that? He just grinned.

“I was referring to the shag,” she chided him, but a cute blush tinted her face.

He could have pointed out that the word shag had more than one meaning, but he was being nice today. At least, that’s what he told himself.

When she closed the door behind them, he saw that there were a number of boxes about, both here and in the adjoining examination room, visible through the open pocket doors. “Packing up?” he asked.

“Yes, and about time, wouldn’t you say? The local clinic is going to take some of this stuff. The medical books can go to a needy doctor just opening a practice here in Bell Cove. And the rest, to a thrift shop, I suppose. Too bad I didn’t get to this sooner, I could have donated a lot of it for the church bazaar.”

“That sounds like you’re planning to sell the house?” There was a slight buzzing in his head at the thought, though why, he couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t as if Wendy had been here much at all for the past twelve years.

“No, nothing like that. Not yet, anyhow.”

The buzzing stopped instantly and relief flooded him. He would have to think about why, later.

“I’ve known for years that medicine isn’t in my future. So, this is a first step in that direction.”

He sank down into a low leather sofa and said, “About Cassie showing up here . . .”

“Right.” She sat down next to him, but not too close, so that she could turn and face him. Reaching to the coffee table in front of them, she picked up an old Pelican yearbook.

“Strolling down memory lane?” he teased.

“No, Ethan. This is your yearbook, not mine.”

“Huh?”

“Your daughter brought it here, with this page bookmarked.” She handed it to him, spread open to a page showing Wendy in a bathing suit, performing her trademark swan dive that had won her three state championships.

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s what she wants.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Cassie asked me if I could help her accomplish this.”

He was still confused. “The body or the dive?”

“Probably both. You have to realize that Cassie is at an age where girls first start to be aware of their bodies, and Cassie has been forced to be more aware than others because of her hip issues. When she looks at that picture, the body posed in a perfect position to show muscle definition and body toning, well, to her that’s an ideal she wants to reach.”

“Cassie won’t be having a permanent hip replacement until she’s fifteen, or sixteen. Until then, that,” he tapped the photograph, “would be an impossible dream.”

“She knows that. She’s a precocious little thing, isn’t she? It’s a long-term goal she’s setting for herself, but something she wants to start working towards now.”

“And you learned all that in . . .” He checked his watch. “. . . an hour and a half?”