“And to you,” James said.
Recently, at the age of seventy, Frank had sold his plumbing business to two longtime employees. Driscoll Plumbing trucks were still a frequent sight on the streets throughout the county and beyond.
Marilee Driscoll bent to kiss Fern’s cheek. A few years younger than Frank, she wore a knee-length winter coat and a hat trimmed in fake fur. “How are you, dear?”
“I’ve been better,” Fern admitted.
“You’re still coming tomorrow?” Marilee asked.
“Of course. The boys wouldn’t miss your wonderful sweet potato casserole.”
Marilee patted Fern’s shoulder, then turned to greet her grandsons, giving them each a hug, to their red-faced chagrin.
James was next in line for a hug, which he welcomed. “Merry Christmas, Grandma.”
“Fern doesn’t look well,” she whispered. “Is there anything—”
“Her new meds haven’t kicked in yet. I’ll see if I can get Fern to go to the doctor early next week.”
“Thank you.” Concern shone in Marilee’s eyes even as she gave James an encouraging pat on his arm. “I’m so glad she has you.”
As James and his family joined the Driscolls and the rest of the congregation filing inside, the scent of fresh evergreens and the sound of the organ playing “O Come, All Ye Faithful” filled the church. Fir boughs tied with red ribbon decorated the end of each wooden pew. Handmade ornaments created by children adorned a Christmas tree near the pulpit, and dozens of red poinsettias were arranged in front of the choir.
James sat in the pew next to Fern and took her hand. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Her loving smile nearly took his breath away, yet he could see tears glistening in her eyes, and they broke his heart.
“Merry Christmas to you, my love,” she whispered.
Back home after the church service, Anabelle took off her gloves and shrugged out of her coat. As much as she had enjoyed the singing and the minister’s uplifting message of God’s love, she was anxious to see how her little scamp of a puppy had fared in her absence.
She opened the door to the mudroom and out he shot. He raced around the kitchen, sniffing every inch of the room.
Crouching, she held out a treat for him. “Come here, scamp. Look what I’ve got for you.”
He galloped to her, all four feet flying and one floppy ear flapping. His behind wiggled with sheer jubilation as he took the treat and ran off again.
She laughed. What an adorable boy he was.
“Anabelle, I think you should come see this.”
At Cam’s stern tone, her laughter came to an abrupt halt. He stood in the mudroom doorway, his expression dark and brooding.
A sense of impending doom arrowed into her chest and she drew a painful breath. “What’s wrong?”
He tipped his head toward the room behind him. “Come take a look.”
She stood, hesitant at first and then with dread as she stepped past him.
Before they’d left for church, she’d covered the floor with newspapers, which were now all wadded up at one end of the narrow room. Coats had been dragged off their hooks, rain boots strewn around the room. The doggie bed she’d bought for the puppy was now upside down on top of a pile of newspapers and old magazines set out to be recycled. Bits and pieces of the Christmas ribbon she’d tied around the puppy’s neck dotted the room like confetti.
Cam picked up one of his rubber work boots. “That dog of yours has been busy.”
Dismayed, she said, “We were only gone two hours. How could he—”
Cam showed her the boot, its toe chewed all the way through.
“Oh, Cam, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t say a word. He simply tossed the boot aside and walked into the house.
Anabelle’s stomach clenched and threatened rebellion. What on earth was she going to do with that puppy?
The thundering footsteps of Gideon and Nelson racing down the stairs woke James early on Christmas morning.
He groaned and rolled over to find Fern smiling at him in the dim light of dawn.
“They’ve done that every Christmas morning that I can remember,” she said, her voice thick with sleep, her words slurring.
“And I’ve done this.” He kissed her soundly, then rolled out of bed. “You’d think the boys wouldn’t get so excited about Christmas at their age.”
Fern managed to sit up on the side of the bed. “Oh, I don’t know. You had a twinkle in your eye when you found out there was a box under the tree for you.”
“Well, that’s different. When I get excited, I don’t stomp down the stairs shaking the whole house and waking everybody for miles around.” He pulled on his terry cloth bathrobe and slipped into his wool-lined slippers. “I always sneak downstairs very quietly.”
She laughed, and James helped her into her pink velour robe and carried her downstairs.
The boys already had the tree lights on and the packages sorted for the respective recipients. James turned on the radio to listen to Christmas music while they unwrapped their presents.
Gideon’s favorite present was a new iPod that came with a gift certificate to download songs. Nelson seemed pleased with his new video game and a graphing calculator to use in math class.
When he opened his last present, he uttered an astonished, “Wow! A whole book of Shakespeare’s comedies.”
Fern beamed at his reaction to her gift. “You seemed to be enjoying your school play so much, I thought you might be interested in other works he wrote.”
He flipped through some pages. “Listen to this. Much Ado About Nothing. Don John says, ‘I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage.’” Nelson raised his voice with a question mark before continuing. “‘If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me.’ Boy, that barely makes sense.”
“There are footnotes to explain some of that,” Fern said. “That will help you understand the meaning.”
Nelson glanced at the book again. “Looks like I’ll need it.”
“Can we get off of Shakespeare and get on with the rest of the presents?” Impatient, Gideon handed his brother the next wrapped box.
Nelson closed his book and set it aside. “Okay, Dad. Your turn. This is from Mom.” Nelson handed James a large box with a big, premade red bow on it.
He shook the box. Nothing rattled. “Guess it’s not a new marble set.” James still had his father’s collection of marbles he’d acquired as a kid, including a couple of unusual agates. The marbles had value as collectibles, but for James it was the sentimental value he cared about.
He pried open the box. Not sure at first what he was looking at, he lifted a navy blue velour robe out of the box.
“Ah, a robe!” he said.
“About time,” Gideon said.
“What do you mean, about time?” James fingered his terry cloth robe. “This has lots of wear left in it.”
“James, dear, you’ve worn that old thing bare at the elbows. You’ve needed a new robe for years.”
He checked his elbows. The terry cloth was worn so smooth, only a few threads were holding it together. “Hmm, maybe you’re right.”
Standing, he shed his old robe and tried on the new one.
“Very elegant and handsome.” Fern smiled up at him.
“Uh-oh,” Nelson warned. “They’re gonna start kissing again.” He rolled his eyes in mock horror.
Laughing, James did exactly what Nelson had predicted. He kissed Fern and thanked her.
He got another kiss when she opened his present, a warm cardigan sweater woven with bright, variegated yarn.
Finally, Fern opened her present from the boys. The slender box contained a CD. She looked to the boys for an explanation.
Gideon said, “We scanned a lot of the pictures in the family scrapbook and turned them into a screen saver for your
computer.”
Nelson handed Fern’s laptop to Gideon.
“It’ll take just a minute to upload this.” Gideon tapped a few keys, slid the CD into a slot and tapped some more keys.
He handed the laptop to Fern. “It’s like a slide show.”
James leaned close to Fern. A photo of one-day-old Gideon in Fern’s arms appeared. That was followed by Fern holding Gideon’s hand as he toddled across the living room. A few pictures later, Nelson appeared, first as a newborn, then toddler and then kindergartner. Vacation shots of Lake Michigan materialized on the screen and another trip to the Chicago zoo.
In every photo, Fern looked happy and energetic. She glowed with good health.
A lump formed in James’s throat. MS had taken so much from her.
He glanced at his wife and saw tears running down her cheeks. She, more than anyone else, knew how much MS had cost her and her family.
Pulling a tissue from the pocket of her robe, Fern wiped away her tears. “Thank you, boys. This is the best present you could have given me. It makes this Christmas Day very special.”
“I told you she’d cry,” Nelson whispered to Gideon.
Fern’s parents lived just outside of town, no more than ten minutes from the Bell household, unless the roads had not been plowed.
The modest, three-bedroom house was set back from the road on a half acre of land that included an oversized garage that had housed Frank’s plumbing trucks and the heavy-duty tools of his trade before his retirement.
The only remaining vehicles were Frank’s extended cab pickup and Marilee’s aging Buick.
Arriving at one o’clock for Christmas dinner, James parked his van in the driveway. Anticipating Fern would be using her wheelchair, the concrete walkway to the front door had been cleared of snow.
The boys hopped out of the van just as Marilee and Frank stepped out onto the front porch, quickly followed by Beth, her husband Joe Ungar and their two children, Andrew and Kim.
Marilee waved. “Merry Christmas to you all!”
Fern raised her hand in response.
The boys knew the routine. Gideon unloaded the wheelchair and both boys helped her get into it. Gideon pushed it to the steps.
Beth hurried down the steps to greet her big sister. Younger by three years, Beth had the same wavy brown hair as Fern but was slightly taller with a more athletic build.
“Hey, sis.” She hugged Fern tightly. “High time you showed up. Dinner’s practically ready. I had to peel all the potatoes myself.”
Fern laughed. “Exactly what I had in mind.” She started to get out of her chair. “If you’ll give me a hand—”
“Stay put, Fern.” Frank came down the steps, moving as agilely as if he were fifty instead of a bit past seventy. “If one of these strapping young men will give me a hand, we’ll hoist you up and set you down as gently as a newborn babe.”
“Dad, you don’t have to—”
Gideon beat James to the task. Frank and his eldest grandson carried Fern, chair and all, to the top of the steps, where her mother welcomed her with a hug.
Frank turned to Nelson and gave him an attaboy pat on the back. “How are you, W9DOY?” he asked, using Nelson’s amateur radio call sign, a hobby he had mentored his grandson in while helping Nelson get his ham license.
“I’m good, Grandpa. Haven’t had much time for radio lately though.”
Frank chuckled. “Wait ’til you’re an ol’ duffer like me. You’ll have lots of time then.”
James had always been struck by what a gentle giant Frank Driscoll was. He doubted that Frank had ever raised a hand or his voice to his two children; he was forever patient with his grandchildren.
Beth lingered back beside James. Her brown eyes met James’s. “She’s worse, isn’t she?” Beth whispered.
It hurt to have others recognize what James knew all too well. “She’s on a new med. It hasn’t helped yet.”
The sheen of tears appeared in Beth’s eyes, and she pressed her lips together. “I hate MS.”
“So do I.”
Together they walked up the steps to the porch. Frank extended his hand to James. Almost as big as a baseball glove, Frank’s palm was still rough with calluses from his years as a plumber, his grip as strong as ever.
Joe, an auditor with the state government, shook James’s hand. About James’s height, he had the slender build of a distance runner. “How’s it going?”
“We’re hanging in there.”
James got a hug from Kim, a cute ten-year-old who was into gymnastics. Her brother Andrew, the same age as Nelson and on a fast academic track, chose to shake hands.
The smell of turkey roasting in the oven and the scent of freshly baked rolls filled the house.
They all went into the living room, which was filled with overstuffed chairs and a couch. A curio cabinet in the corner of the room displayed Marilee’s collection of porcelain teacups and saucers. In the opposite corner, a small Christmas tree circled by a miniature electric train sat on a low table. The train’s route took it past a snowy Midwestern town in miniature.
“How long ’til dinner, Grandma?” Gideon asked. “I’m starved.”
“About an hour,” Marilee said. “I put out some nuts and crackers and cheese to nibble on, but I don’t want you to spoil your appetite.”
James chuckled. “Gideon can eat anytime, anywhere, Marilee. I think he’s secretly feeding an entire platoon of his ROTC buddies.”
“Andrew’s the same way,” Beth said. “I’ve tried to get Joe to buy a dairy farm so Andrew could have all the milk he wants.”
Everyone laughed sympathetically.
The three boys went out with Frank to mess around in his garage, which always provided a treasure trove of interesting tools and mechanical devices. In contrast to James’s father, who’d worked for a cement company and wore a hard hat, Frank seemed endlessly patient and rarely critical of anything his children or James’s boys did.
James suspected part of his father’s problem had been because his parents were both over forty when he was born. His dad wasn’t used to kids and demanded too much. Or maybe it was because he was simply more comfortable working with men who earned their living by hard physical work.
Either way, James had disappointed his father when he joined the army. His father had served in World War II. Like so many other veterans, he’d suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and wanted nothing to do with the military.
But James had joined the army to be a medic and earn enough money to pursue a nursing career. His dad had had a hard time understanding James’s decision, that nursing was his calling.
The women, including Kim, vanished into the kitchen to make final dinner preparations while James and Joe chatted about the state of government.
When they all sat down at the dining table loaded with enough food for an entire army, they clasped hands while Frank said grace.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for the bounty this day has brought us and ask Your blessing on our family both here and elsewhere. Continue to give us strength to face the challenges in our lives and the faith to know You are beside us each day. Teach us to love as You have loved us. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
They all echoed his amen, and James squeezed Fern’s and Marilee’s hands. The warmth of Fern’s family filled him with love. Once again he counted his blessings that he had found Fern, who had given him two terrific sons and a pair of exceptional in-laws.
Chapter Thirteen
THE MONDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS, JAMES HAD TO WALK through six inches of snow in the hospital parking lot to get to the entrance. The city plows had cleared the major streets in town, but the private contractors hadn’t been able to keep up with the snow the current storm had dumped on the area.
The wintry weather had worked in Gideon and Nelson’s favor. They shoveled several of the neighbors’ sidewalks over the weekend and hoped to stir up more business this morning. Their wallets were growing thicker by the day. Pri
de in his boys made him smile. Good kids, both of them.
James had stayed home to be with his family for the holiday weekend. Now it was back to work, and the Scouts’ camping trip was less than two weeks away.
One thing for sure, if this weather continued they’d have plenty of snow. The kids would earn their badges.
He was also confident he’d spend a lot of the trip worrying about Fern. The Christmas festivities had left her more exhausted than ever, and that troubled James. But she wouldn’t hear of him not going.
“Mother and Dad only live ten minutes away if I need something,” she had reminded him. “And Gideon will be home. He’s becoming a very responsible young man.”
All true, James agreed. But that didn’t minimize the unease he felt at being two hours away from her.
He changed into his scrubs in the locker room and headed for the second floor. Just as he arrived at the nurses’ station, Elena burst out of the elevator.
“Oh good! You’re all here.” Breathless, she paused at the counter.
Seated at the computer, Anabelle looked over the top of her glasses. “Whatever it is, I can’t do it. I’ve got an out-of-control puppy to deal with.”
James suspected the new dog had shredded more of Cameron’s slippers by now. If not worse.
“What’s on your mind, Elena?” Candace asked.
“When I was at church Christmas Eve, I was praying like crazy about the pay cuts and what we could do about them. And I got this really great idea.”
James grimaced and Candace groaned. Anabelle’s attention remained riveted to the computer screen.
“Come on, guys. Give me a chance to explain my idea.” Elena looked hopefully from James to Candace in search of an ally. “Let’s meet for lunch at the Corner. I’ll tell you about my plan while we eat. I’ll even treat, if you’ll just listen to me.”
The Diner at the Corner was a popular place for hospital employees when they needed a break from the hospital. James wouldn’t mind eating lunch there, but he was skeptical about Elena’s newest brainstorm.
“I’ll let you buy my lunch,” Candace said. “The cafeteria’s daily special is tuna and noodles, not one of my favorites.”
Strength in Numbers Page 11
