Chapter One

“OKAY, JAMIE, who else are we inviting onto the ark? We have a Tyrannosaurus Rex named Gerry and a Pterodactyl named Suzy.” Noah gently flexed the little boy’s ankle and tried to distract his patient from the stretching discomfort. “I don’t think we’ve invited a Stegosaurus to live on Noah’s Ark.”

He glanced toward Jamie’s dad, who was standing off to the side, watching his son with a worried smile. Jamie was healing nicely, and this was his last appointment. Noah would miss the little guy, but not having his father hovering nearby watching his every move. Noah did a quick check, scanning the room to make sure nothing was out of place.

The little boy with brown curly hair and light brown eyes grinned. “Can we name it Henry?”

“Sure. Henry’s an awesome name.”

Noah exhaled, trying to steady his nerves as he flexed Jamie’s foot. Normally a parent being close by wouldn’t bother him. But this was Dane Prescott, the owner of Seattle’s Major League Soccer team, the Seattle Emeralds.

Granted, Dane stood by, observing their session with approval and hadn’t questioned any of the exercises Noah put his son through to rehabilitate his ankle. It was a serious sprain with a tear in his tendon, but Jamie had the advantage of youth and would be back on the soccer field in no time. Any worries Noah had about Jamie being pressured into playing the sport quickly vanished. Jamie eagerly expressed his enthusiasm for his favorite sport at every appointment. Today Jamie arrived wearing a Seattle Emeralds’ jersey. He limped through the door and turned around, stretching his little arms to point at the name on the back of his jersey.

“Look, Dr. Noah, Nick Anderson signed it for me. He said he would if I got a good report card and I did and he did,” Jamie exclaimed, turning back around with a big grin on his face.

“That’s great, Jamie, but remember, I’m not a doctor, just a physical therapist.”

“But you make people better, like a doctor.”

Noah took the compliment. He didn’t have the heart to argue with the little boy gazing up at him with the solemn wisdom only a six-year-old could have. It was that childlike wisdom that made Noah want to work with kids.

Noah could have been a doctor, but he’d decided against it because medical school would have aggravated his condition. He’d worked hard to carve out a career that he loved with a level of stress that he could manage.

He carefully taped Jamie’s ankle and turned to his dad. “Jamie has made an excellent recovery, but he should take it easy when playing indoor soccer. It’s best if he starts with short sessions of ten or fifteen minutes and gradually builds up to a full game.”

“Got it. I’ll let his coach know. The holiday break will give him extra time to heal. There aren’t any games or practices until after New Year now.”

“Aww, Dad. Can’t we practice a little?”

Dane ruffled his son’s curls. “We’ll see, kiddo.”

“Okay, Jamie.” Noah lifted Jamie off the table and dropped to his knee so he could be at eye level with his patient. “As much fun as we’ve been having, I think you’d rather be playing with your team than coming here, right?” Jamie nodded. “Then I need you to listen to your dad and your coach and take care of your ankle.”

Noah let out a little grunt when Jamie threw his arms around his neck with a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Dr. Noah. I don’t want to come back, but I still want to be your friend. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Jamie.” Noah hugged him back, blinking back tears. If only everyone could love as unconditionally as a six-year-old. Jamie didn’t care if Noah had to keep his supplies organized by size, color, and sometimes texture. “Have a great Christmas, Jamie.”

Jamie pulled back and put his little hands on Noah’s cheeks. “Are you going to have a good Christmas?”

Noah glanced at Jamie’s father. These conversations could be awkward, but Noah didn’t hide who he was. “I’m not going to celebrate Christmas. I’m Jewish, so I celebrate a holiday called Hanukkah.”

Jamie’s face lit up. “Like my friend Eli.”

“Like your friend Eli,” Noah said with a note of relief.

“Are you going to play dreidel with your friends?”

“I sure will,” he lied.

“Come on, Jamie, we’ve taken up enough of Noah’s time. He’s got other kids that he needs to make better,” Dane said.

Jamie went over and grabbed his dad’s hand. Dane held out his other hand to Noah. “Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to take care of Jamie.”

“Don’t let Holly hear that—or her husband—or you might lose one of your star players.” Noah shook his hand.

Dane laughed. “True. Children’s Hospital is lucky to have both you and Holly.”

“And the Emeralds are lucky to have Nick Anderson.”

“Anytime you want tickets, let Nick know, and we’ll make sure to hook you up.”

Noah blew out a sigh of relief after Dane and Jamie said their goodbyes and left. Dane was an easy parent to work with, but it still made Noah nervous having the owner of the Emeralds watching him. Noah was surprised when Holly, his coworker, declined taking the case even though her husband, Nick Anderson, played for the team. However, Holly insisted Noah should handle it instead.

His partner in crime was waiting for him when he returned to his station.

“How did it go?” Holly perched on Noah’s desk, her hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate.

“It went well. Jamie will be back on the soccer field after the holidays.”

“Speaking of holidays.” Holly folded her arms in front of her. “What are you doing for Hanukkah this year?”

“Nothing.” Noah shrugged.

Holly frowned. “What about going home?”

“We’ve talked about this, Holly. I love my family, and they love me, but we… stress each other out. I’m hyperaware of everything I do, and my parents are overprotective, constantly hovering, expecting me to have a meltdown at any minute.”

“Oh, Noah.” Holly gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Holly was one of the few people Noah confided in about his childhood struggles with anxiety and his obsessive-compulsive disorder. Adverse reactions to some medications he’d first been put on created manic moments that scared Noah as much as it did his parents. His siblings also had to live with Noah’s constant doctors’ visits, mood swings, and the need to create order in his world. They were unconditional in their love, like his parents, but his struggles took their toll. Noah didn’t lie when he said he loved his family. He did, but it hurt too much knowing how much stress he caused them. Phone calls and emails were fine, but in-person visits were better kept at a minimum. They would all gather at his childhood home in Portland for the holidays, but Noah wouldn’t be there.

“Do you want to—”

“Be a third wheel? Thanks, Holly, but no.”

“You wouldn’t be a third wheel. Nick’s family is coming out again, and Noelle and Hugh, and Joy and Jason. We’ll all be together, and you’re welcome to join us.”

Noah’s heart squeezed. “I appreciate the offer. I really do. We’ll be together at Christmas.”

They both volunteered to work over Christmas for their own reasons. Working with Holly on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day was something Noah looked forward to.

“I don’t like thinking of you sitting at home alone, knitting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with knitting.”

“No, of course not,” Holly scoffed. “It’s the sitting home alone part. What about that guy who works in patient intake? Maybe he needs a date for Hanukkah.”

“Scott?”

“Yeah, that guy. What about him?”

Noah shook his head. “He’s not my type.”

“Why not?”

Scott was cute, and that was the problem. He reminded Noah of a giant blond teddy bear with his blond curly hair and big brown eyes. He had those round cheeks that would turn bright pink when he blushed or spent too much time in the sun. Looks weren’t everything, and it was the fact that the guy always seemed so happy that sent Noah running in the opposite direction. There was nothing wrong with being happy, but he had too much energy for Noah. He needed a partner who would be content to sit quietly.

“He’s… too much for me. I need someone who is okay with being in the same room but not having to talk.”

“Oh, I get it. You like dark and brooding.”

“I suppose so.”

Holly tapped her finger against her lips. “We can work with that.”

“Whoa.” Noah put his hands up. “I am not a project. I’m perfectly happy with my life and don’t need to be set up.”

“Fine,” Holly said with a huff. “But you still need to do something fun for yourself for Hanukkah.”

She was right. An idea popped into his head. A few days in a cozy cabin wouldn’t be a bad idea. Cross-country skiing and evenings by the fire knitting would be nice. He remembered the cabin he’d rented last summer in a small town called Blink in the northeast part of the state. He’d spent a long weekend hiking and paddleboarding on a small lake with turquoise-blue water fed by a glacier. It would be as charming in the winter as the summer. As soon as his shift was over, he’d check and see if the place was available.

“I promise I’ll treat myself to something fun.”

Hanukkah at a cabin in the woods sounded perfect. He wouldn’t be able to get away for all eight nights, but if the cabin was available for the first three days of the holiday he had off, it would be a nice way to celebrate.

That night Noah curled up on his couch and pulled up the rental site on his laptop. He grinned and clicked the booking button without hesitation. He put his laptop aside and picked up his planner. Knitting and his planner helped keep him from getting overwhelmed. The rhythm of creating stitches eased his anxiety, and writing everything down in his planner kept his OCD from taking over. There were two things Noah would always splurge on: yarn and planners.

Last Hanukkah, he’d treated himself to a new planner with a brown leather cover. He opened the planner and wrote in the dates for his stay at the cabin and then turned to the section where he kept lists and started a new packing list. When he finished, Noah picked up his phone. Taking a deep breath, he called home.

“Honey, is everything okay?”

Noah winced. His mom didn’t realize that she’d stopped answering his calls with a simple hello a long time ago. It wasn’t her fault. It was his.

“Everything’s fine, Mom.”

There was a sigh of relief before the routine of questions began. How was work? What knitting projects had he made lately? Was he seeing friends? Was he dating? Was he eating enough? And….

“Are you sure you’re doing okay without meds?”

“Mom, the skills I’ve worked on in therapy are working well for me. I know I gave you a hard time, especially when I was in high school, but I’m twenty-seven, and I think I’ve shown that I can do okay on my own.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. Are you coming home for Hanukkah this year? We’d all love to see you.”

Noah glanced at the picture on his bookshelf from the last family gathering he’d attended, Passover, two years ago. Both of his brothers and his sister were a mix of their parents, with his mother’s dark curly hair and brown eyes, and Dad’s sun-kissed skin from his Sephardic heritage. In the picture Noah stood opposite his siblings, next to his mother. Noah’s light ginger-blond hair, blue eyes, and freckles, stood out from everyone else in his family. His great-grandfather’s DNA made a sudden appearance when Noah was born. It was one more thing that set him apart. His OCD and anxiety only widened the breach.

“I don’t know yet. I’m not sure about my schedule,” he lied.

A beat of silence followed, his mother’s disappointment palpable on the other end of the line. “Well, we’ll miss you, and if you change your mind… you don’t have to call, just show up.”

“I will,” Noah said, even though he knew he wouldn’t. “I’ve mailed presents. They should be there in the next day or two, if I don’t make it.”

“I’m keeping yours here in case you do.”

It was the same stalemate every year and the reason Noah stopped expecting to receive anything for Hanukkah.

“I’ll check in next week. Love you, Mom. Tell Dad I love him too.”

“We love you too, sweetheart.”

Noah hung up and reached for the mitten he was making to finish the pair. The soft fuzzy yarn that swirled in a mixture of blues and purples slipped through his fingers, and the rhythm of the classic stockinette stitch soothed him. As the mitten took shape, his anxiety eased, and he daydreamed of his Hanukkah in the woods, alone.