“You sound like you know a lot about it.”
She set the coffee in front of him with an amused quirk to her lips. “I should. It’s my third year chairing it. Cream? Sugar?”
Chad shook his head. “Wow. Sounds like a lot of work.”
She grabbed a K-cup from the rack for herself and popped it into the machine. “It is, but it’s a cause near and dear to my heart. Several of my students and their families have benefitted over the years. Plus, who doesn’t love shopping for kids for Christmas?”
“Fair point.” He sipped at his coffee. “Does everything come back to the fountain in this town?”
The fountain at the center of the town green dated back to just after the Civil War. Fed from nearby Hope Springs, it featured heavily in local lore and even heavier in the marketing campaigns currently drawing tourists to town. It had certainly been brought up when he’d been recruited by the hospital here.
“Pretty much.”
“Do you buy into the hype? The whole make a wish, and it’ll come true business?”
Mary Alice brought her drink—spiced cider from the smell of it—to the table and sat across from him. “I’m a local.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
She wrapped her hands around the mug and sighed, the picture of contentment. “It’s always been there, in the background. But I guess I’ve always been too afraid to test the theory.”
“Afraid that you’ll get what you wish for? Or afraid that you won’t?”
A rueful smile curved her mouth. He really liked the shape of that mouth.
“Maybe some of both. There’s this whole implication that the wish has to be made with a pure heart.”
“From where I’m sitting, you look like the poster girl for pure of heart.”
Color bloomed in her cheeks, and she bent to her drink. “Well, the things I thought about wishing for were a little too self-serving to risk.”
Had she thought about making a wish about her relationship with Judd? If he’d had the option back with his ex, would he have risked it to try and save their relationship? No. If she hadn’t loved him the way she should on her own, wishing wasn’t going to change that. He wondered if Mary Alice had come to the same conclusion.
“So instead you spend your time making other people’s wishes come true with your charity.”
Mary Alice twitched her shoulders. “Something like that.”
Beautiful, charitable, and modest. Exactly the kind of woman he’d like to spend some more time with outside of work. “Are you looking for more volunteers?”
She paused, the mug halfway to her lips. “Are you serious?”
“I came to a small hospital because I wanted to be involved in the community, so that my patients were more than just folders and vital signs.” Even as he said it, he felt like an asshat because he hadn’t even asked after her cousin.
“We can always use more volunteers. The next meeting is Tuesday at seven, at the community center.”
“Speaking of patients, how’s Finn? You didn’t come back, so I assume she survived the night.”
“No other signs of concussion. She’s still hung over today, though probably a lot less than she would be without your help.”
“I feel like death warmed over.” This came from the doorway that led into the hall. Finn stood in pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tail, and her eyes were shadowed. The bruise at her temple was livid. “Little Mary Sunshine here keeps forcing water and painkillers and soup on me.”
“Which is probably what’s keeping you from feeling like death stone cold,” Mary Alice retorted.
“Rehydration and rest is the best thing for you,” Chad told her.
Finn turned bloodshot eyes on him. “I’d thank you for making a house call, but clearly you weren’t here to see me.”
Busted.