The Christmas Angel

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Hi, Luke, it’s Christina.” Her tone was somehow breathy and energetic at the same time. Though Sara didn’t mean to eavesdrop, she found herself listening. “Sorry I didn’t catch you in. I’m just working out my schedule for this week and wanted to make a date for our interview. Give me a call when you get a chance. You can call late. I’m a night owl, remember?”

  The caller laughed and Sara paused in her task, caught by the intimate note in the woman’s tone. Who in the world was Christina? She turned to look at Luke, but he was sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper.

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing you,” Christina added in her warm, velvety voice. “It will be great to catch up.”

  Finally, the mysterious siren hung up.

  Sara rinsed the last dish and shut off the water. “Who was that?” she asked.

  Luke kept his eyes on the paper. “Just an old friend, an old girlfriend, actually—Christina Cross. I mentioned her to you.”

  “No, I don’t believe you ever did. The name doesn’t ring a bell.” Sara winced inwardly at the jealous note in her voice.

  “Sure I did. Christina and I went out years ago. We totally lost touch, but she found me on the Internet or something. She’s writing a book and wants an interview.”

  “Oh, she’s a writer?”

  “She used to be a reporter, covered the courthouse. That’s how we met. She gave it up a few years ago. She’s doing a book now on cops who have left the force and what they’ve done with their lives since. She thinks the way I started a New Horizons center out here will make a good chapter.”

  “Yes, it definitely would,” Sara said evenly. She walked over to the armchair and sat down, facing him.

  This woman was going to devote an entire chapter to Luke in her book? That was going to take more than one get-together, Sara thought.

  Luke peeked at her over his newspaper. He patted the seat beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me?”

  She met his gaze but didn’t budge. “It’s nice and warm by the stove,” he coaxed her.

  She stood up, walked the short distance to the couch, and sat down next to him. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “See, I told you it was warmer.”

  She turned and grinned up at him despite herself. She rested her head against his shoulder and felt his fingers twine in her long hair, stroking it back from her cheek.

  “I’m sorry we had a fight,” she said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, too.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t think I’m too old for you, do you?”

  She looked up at him, surprised by the question. “No, of course not. That’s just . . . ridiculous.”

  He sighed and smiled again a little. “Okay. If you say so.”

  She settled her head on his shoulder again. She felt his strong heartbeat against her cheek, his warmth and strength enfolding her.

  “I love you, Luke. Please don’t be angry. I don’t want to lose you.”

  He didn’t answer for a long time, and she wondered if he had even heard her.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” he said finally. “You know me.”

  He leaned his head down and kissed her, a long lingering kiss that made everything feel right between them again.

  I do know you, Sara thought. She could depend on his love, his patience, his loyalty. He would wait for her to make up her mind, however long it took.

  He would wait.

  “SHE’S OFF THE OXYGEN NOW. SHE ONLY NEEDS TO WEAR THE TUBE when she’s sleeping,” the nurse explained. “It’s all right to pick her up. It’s good for a baby to be held.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why I came.” Emily’s gaze was fixed on Jane lying in her plastic hospital crib. She’d been cleaned up, was dressed in a pale yellow gown with a drawstring bottom, and wore a tiny plastic bracelet on her wrist.

  She was in a small room with four other such cribs. The glass wall that looked out onto the corridor had a few paper Christmas decorations taped on it, lending some cheer to the sterile environment.

  Some of the other babies were attached to monitors and machinery, probably with much worse medical conditions, Emily realized. The sight of so many sick children saddened her. It didn’t seem fair for illness to touch the young.

  Jane was lucky. It was only an infection, Emily reminded herself. She would be better soon and able to leave this place.

  “We try to cuddle them when we can. But we rarely have time,” the nurse admitted quietly. She picked up the baby in a knowing manner and handed her over to Emily.

  Emily took her in both arms and cradled her across her chest. She looked down at the baby’s small face. Jane stared back with big blue-grey eyes, a quizzical expression on her face. For a moment Emily thought the infant might cry, but she just lifted her fist and stuck it in her mouth.

  “It’s me. Emily. Do you remember me?” Emily asked in a small voice.

  The baby blinked and puckered up her mouth a bit.

  “Is she hungry?” Emily asked.

  The nurse checked the chart. “She could use a feeding. Here, sit in that chair. I’ll get a bottle.”

  Emily walked over to a comfortable-looking rocker. She sat down slowly, mindful of the baby as she sank into the cushions and eased into the rocker’s rhythmic motion. Soon she felt Jane relax in her arms.

  “Here you go. You know the correct way to feed her, don’t you?”

  Emily looked up at the nurse, embarrassed to admit that she didn’t really know there was a right way and a wrong way. Didn’t you just stick the nipple into the child’s mouth?

  The nurse leaned forward and demonstrated. “Try to keep the bottle at an angle like this, so she won’t be sucking in too much air. When she’s finished about a third or so, take a break and burp her.”

  Burp her? Well, I’ll worry about that when I get to it, Emily thought. She nodded and took the bottle.

  The baby never missed a beat in her sucking, she noticed. Soon her big eyes drifted closed, her thick brown lashes curling softly against her cheek. She was so beautiful, Emily thought, such a darling.

  “You’re a gorgeous girl,” Emily whispered. “A real showstopper. I wish Dan could have seen you the other day.”

  Dan. She had left a message but hadn’t spoken to him directly. He hadn’t called on her way to the hospital, and she had shut her phone off as soon as she entered the nursery. Well, she would call him on her way back to town, or explain when she got home if he wasn’t already asleep.

  She looked down to see that the bottle was more than a third empty. Emily scolded herself for not watching more closely, though she guessed this baby-care business wasn’t an exact science.

  “My, you’re a speedy one, aren’t you?” she asked the infant.

  She set the bottle aside and lifted the baby to a sitting position. Jane looked a bit confused and put out to have lost her bottle, Emily thought.

  “Time for a little burp. Nurse’s orders, sweetie,” she added kindly.

  She sat there a moment, wondering how to get the baby to burp, when the nurse breezed by again. “That’s it, sit her on your knee and just pat her back a bit. Toward the bottom is good.”

  The nurse gave Jane a gentle pat or two, producing instant results.

  “Wow, that was fast.” Emily stared down at the baby. “You get right down to business, don’t you? I’m like that myself. A job begun is a job half done, I always say.”

  The nurse breezed by again. She smiled at Emily. “Having a nice conversation?”

  Emily nodded, moving the baby back into feeding position again. “Yes, we are. A very nice little visit.”

  Jane quickly consumed the rest of her bottle, had her appropriate burps, and promptly fell asleep in Emily’s arms.

  Emily sat with the baby resting against her chest for a long time. Jane seemed so peaceful, Emily was afraid to shift her arm or even breathe too deeply for fear of disturbing her. Yet she liked being
the baby’s soft resting place.

  Visiting hours had ended, and the lights on the floor were dimmed. Emily hummed and rocked and found that she, too, was nearly falling asleep in the darkened nursery.

  Finally, the nurse returned. “She probably needs to be changed and then I’ll put her back in her crib,” she said in a soft voice.

  Emily looked up and forced a smile. She really didn’t want to give the baby up quite yet. But it was probably best for Jane to return to the crib and take her oxygen again, she reasoned.

  She followed the nurse back to the crib, where she changed the baby’s diaper with quick efficiency, wrapped her in a blanket, and had her back in the crib in no time flat.

  “How long will she stay here, do you think?” Emily asked the nurse.

  “Hard to say exactly. She’s doing well. A few days more. Until the end of the week, I’d guess.” She looked up at Emily. “Will you come back to see her again?”

  “May I?”

  The nurse shrugged. “You can check with Mrs. Preston, but I don’t see why not. Volunteers come through here all the time. You’re good with her, nice and calm. Do you have any children of your own?”

  Emily hesitated before answering. “One daughter. She’s grown up now though. She’s twenty-four.”

  The nurse looked surprised. “You must have been a young mother.”

  “Yes . . . I was,” Emily admitted.

  “You ought to come visit again,” the nurse said. “We can always use the help.”

  “I’ll call Mrs. Preston to make sure it’s okay. I’m the one who found her.”

  The nurse smiled knowingly. “I know. I read about it in the newspaper, and I recognized your name when you signed in. You can stay with her until she falls asleep if you like.”

  “Thanks. I will stay.” Emily smiled at the nurse as she walked away.

  Then she stood by the crib alone, looking down at the baby, watching her breathe. The nurse had inserted plastic oxygen tubes in her nose, but the sound of her breathing was still a little raspy, a bit labored, she thought. The poor little thing. Hadn’t she had enough struggle?

  Emily reached out and touched Jane’s soft, wispy hair with her fingertips. It felt like feathers, like an angel’s wing.

  The closest I’ll ever get to one in this lifetime, Emily thought with a small smile.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EMILY RETURNED FROM HER RUN ON WEDNESDAY MORNING TO find Dan sitting at the kitchen table in his usual pose, sipping coffee from a big mug and paging through the morning papers. He subscribed to three and read them all quite thoroughly.

  She’d married a newshound . . . and a handsome man, she noticed, though not for the first time. Even unshaven with his hair rumpled and still in his blue plaid bathrobe, he was awfully cute. Long and lean, a few inches over six feet, his height and build suited Emily fine. At five-ten herself, she often felt self-conscious, towering over many of the men she knew. Dan’s hair had remained full, a straw blond color that had gone mostly silver grey complemented by a complexion colored by the sun and wind during hours spent aboard his beloved sailboat.

  She leaned over as she passed his chair, put her arm around his shoulder, then kissed his cheek. “So what are you up to today?”

  “The library in Salem. Research for the book.”

  Dan was writing a book about local history, the shipbuilding industry mostly, but it included the histories of famous families and folklore of the region. It was the second book he had worked on since his retirement. He finished the first last year, just before their wedding. That book was going to be published soon.

  “I’ll probably stay in Salem and meet up with a buddy of mine for dinner,” Dan explained. “We worked together on our first newspaper jobs. I won’t be home until about ten or eleven.”

  “Oh? That’s fine.”

  Emily poured herself a cup of coffee while her two cats, Lucy and Ethel, twined around her legs, begging for their breakfast.

  With Dan out until late she was free to visit the baby again. Yesterday she had called Nadine Preston to ask about Jane’s condition, and the conversation soon evolved to more than a simple update.

  She knew she had to fill Dan in on the news. During her run, she had thought about just the right way to begin, but though she drummed up her courage and adrenalin outdoors, now that she was back in the house she seemed to have lost her nerve.

  But Dan wouldn’t be home tonight, and this conversation really couldn’t wait.

  She turned and sat down at the table across from him. “Can you put down the paper a minute, Dan? I want to ask you something.”

  “Oh?” Dan folded the paper and stared at her curiously. “This sounds serious. What have I done now?” he teased her.

  “It’s just something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Something important.” She folded her hands on the tabletop. “You remember that I went to visit the baby at the hospital on Monday night, right?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Well, I spoke to the social worker yesterday, Nadine Preston. I called to see if I could go see Jane again—”

  “Again?” Dan stopped himself. “Go on, I’m listening. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “We got to talking about what’s going to happen next to Jane. After she’s released from the hospital, I mean. Mrs. Preston told me that she’ll be released in a few days and the court will appoint a temporary guardian.”

  “A foster parent, you mean?”

  “More or less. Of course, they want to find the mother. That’s their primary focus. But they’re also looking for any relatives now, any family who can take the baby. That should take about a month. In the meantime, she’ll be placed with a temporary guardian until they either find her family or someone to adopt her.”

  Dan folded his glasses and slipped them into the case. “What does this have to do with us, Emily? Or dare I ask that question?”

  He was still almost smiling, but she sensed he was terrified of her answer.

  “Nadine Preston asked me if we would be interested in applying. To be the baby’s temporary guardians, I mean.”

  “And what did you say?” he asked in a guarded tone.

  “Well . . . I said yes.” Dan’s eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. Emily swallowed and plunged ahead. “But I told her that I had to discuss it with you first, of course.”

  “Well, thanks. I’m glad you remembered that I exist.” The words came out with a sharp edge.

  “Dan, please? Can’t we just discuss this calmly without getting into an argument?”

  Dan rose from his chair and tossed the newspaper on the table. “What is there to discuss? You know how I feel about this. We agreed when we got married: no children. You have Sara and I have Wyatt and Lindsay. We’re past that stage of our lives.”

  “We’re too old, you mean,” she finished for him.

  “I wasn’t going to put it that way but since you did, yes.”

  “I’m not too old. And neither are you. I’m only forty-four. And a half,” she added, since she would be forty-five at the end of May. “Women my age are having children every day.”

  Dan pressed his hand to his forehead. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. We have to sign the papers and send them back today. Most of it’s done, just routine information. But there are still a few things to fill in—”

  “You’ve already started the paperwork? Without even asking me?” Dan’s voice rose on every word. “How could you do such a thing, Emily?”

  She took a breath. He didn’t understand. He didn’t want to. He was thinking only of himself, not about the baby at all.

  “I had to. The social worker said we had to apply right away. I was afraid she would find another couple.”

  “There, don’t you see? That means that there are lots of highly qualified couples willing to take this child.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the case,” Emily corrected him.

&nbs
p; “Whether or not it is, is beside the point. I can’t understand how you could rush ahead like this without me. That isn’t at all fair, Emily.”

  “I agree. It was impulsive and not fair to you,” she admitted. “But I was afraid if we waited to talk about it, we would argue. Like we’re doing now. And then we would miss out.”

  “This isn’t like you,” Dan said, “this jumping-in business. Is this what I can expect for the rest of our marriage? You’ll feel free to make these major decisions without consulting me whenever you think I will disagree?”

  He had a point. She would feel the same way if the situation were reversed. She was too used to political life, perhaps. She had cleverly circumvented her husband and, in doing so, had undermined her cause.

  Emily sighed. “Dan, please try to understand. I admit I got a bit carried away, asking her to send the forms before talking it over with you. But this is something I want very much. So much . . . I can hardly express it. I didn’t even realize how I really felt until she asked me.”

  She looked up at her husband, everything she was feeling welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. Dan might even suspect she was using tears to persuade him. But she could barely hold them back.

  He stared at her and then looked away. “I know this is hard for you, Emily. It’s only natural to feel involved, to feel responsible for the baby, especially being the kind of person you are. Your empathy, your compassion—those are some of the things I love about you most,” he added quietly. “But I just can’t see it. How would we ever manage to take this on?”

  “We could do it. And it wouldn’t be forever. We’ll just be taking care of her until the investigation is completed. Mrs. Preston said that would take about a month. If a close relative isn’t found, the baby will be placed with adoptive parents.”

  “That could take a very long time,” Dan pointed out. He sighed and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Try to think logically about this, Emily. Why would we ever take on this commitment? It’s just insane. You’re in an office all day and at meetings most nights. Who’s going to take care of this baby—me?”