CHAPTER TEN
“YOU CAN’T BE working the entire Christmas holiday,” Lance insisted, following McKenzie to the hospital cafeteria table where she put down her food tray.
She’d gotten a chicken salad croissant and a side salad. He’d gone for a more hearty meal, but had ended up grabbing a croissant as well.
Sitting down at the table, she glanced at him. “I’m not, but I am working at the clinic half a day on Christmas Eve and then working half a day in the emergency room on Christmas morning.” She’d done so the past few years so the regular emergency room doctor could have the morning off with his kids and she liked filling in from time to time so she kept her emergency care skills sharp.
“When will you celebrate with your parents?”
Bile rose up in her throat at the thought of introducing Lance to her parents. Her mother would probably hit on him and her dad would probably ask him what he thought about wife number five’s plastic surgeon–constructed chest. No, she wouldn’t be taking Lance home for the holidays.
Actually, when she’d talked to her mother a few days ago, Violet had said she was going to her sister’s for a few days and spending the holidays with her family. She hadn’t mentioned Beau, the latest live-in boyfriend, so McKenzie wasn’t sure if Beau was going, staying or if he was history. Her father had planned a ski trip in Vermont with his bride and a group of their friends.
“We don’t celebrate the holidays like other folks.”
“How’s that?”
“We’ll meet up at some point in January and have dinner or something. We just don’t make a big deal of the day. It’s way too commercialized anyway, you know.”
“This coming from the winner of the best costume in the Christmas parade.”
She couldn’t quite keep her smile hidden. The call from the mayor telling her she’d won the award had surprised her, as had the Christmas ornament he’d dropped by the clinic to commemorate her honor.
“Cecilia is the one who should get all the kudos for that. She put my costume together.”
“But you wore it so well,” he assured her, giving her a once-over. “You wear that lab coat nicely, too, Dr. Sanders.”
She arched a brow at him and gave a mock-condescending shake of her head. “You hitting on me, Dr. Spencer?”
“With a baseball bat.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men, always talking about size.”
He laughed.
“Speaking of size, you should see the tree my mother put up in her family room. I swear she searches for the biggest one on the lot every year and that’s her sole criterion for buying.”
“She puts up a live tree?”
“She puts up a slew of trees. All are artificial except the one in the family room. There, she goes all out and insists on a real tree. There’s a row of everg
reens behind my parents’ house, marking Christmases past.”
McKenzie couldn’t even recall the last Christmas tree her mother had put up. Maybe a skimpy tinsel one that had seen better days when McKenzie had still been young enough to ask about Santa and Christmas. Violet had never been much of a holiday person, especially not after McKenzie’s father had left.
“She wants to meet you.”
McKenzie’s brow arched. “Why would she want to do that? For that matter, how does she even know about me?”
“She asked if I was seeing anyone and I told her about you.”
Talking to his mother about her just seemed wrong.
“She shouldn’t meet me.”
“Why not?”
“Mothers should only meet significant others who have the potential for being around for a while.”