Her Miracle Man

by Nikki Duncan

  “I noticed you hadn’t gotten around to getting yourself one.”

  “It’s just me. What’s the point?”

  “You enjoy them. You need no other point.”

  He didn’t tell her it wasn’t just her, or say that he’d be around. He gave her no promise of such words and she wanted them. Wanting them scared her because she didn’t do emotion well these days. Shutting down the desire, she asked, “What makes you think I enjoy them?”

  “Because I watched you shop the lot. Then I watched you decorate to the last strand of perfectly placed tinsel.”

  “A tree without presents beneath it is a sad tree. I have no presents.”

  “It’s sadder still to have no tree.” He held a hand out. “Now, are you going to come decorate it or are you going to continue being a masochist?”

  “A masochist?” That’s one she’d never been accused of being before.

  “When it comes to your skill at denying yourself, at living in your grief, there’s no better term for you.”

  “Don’t sugarcoat your opinions there, Ryland.”

  “Doing so would waste my time and do you no favors.”

  The tone of his words suggested the favors he spoke of were something only he could give. “What exactly do you think your favors are doing for me?”

  “Getting you out of your grief-filled rut.”

  She stood, stalked to him in her robe and slipper-encased feet. “As if it’s your job to fix me. Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the man who hired you to plan several events. Who’s trying to make you see how much stronger you can be.”

  “And we don’t have another one planned for two days.” She walked around him, seething internally that she’d allowed herself to think they’d become more than business acquaintances. She’d respected him because he hadn’t flaunted his position. He hadn’t made it out like he was the better of the two of them. He hadn’t acted like Kris. Until now.

  “I don’t need your kind of favors.” She opened the door, gripped the knob until her knuckles hurt. “You know nothing about me. Take your tree and go save someone else.”

  “Jennalyn.”

  Shaking her head, not interested in anything more he had to say, she went inside and shut the door. Her chest ached. She didn’t like fights any more than she liked to know she’d misread Ryland. Expecting him to knock or try to plead his case, she watched through the peephole.

  He stood outside, looking like he’d been kicked. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to formulate words or decide his next move. Then his shoulders sank, he ducked his head and walked away.

  He left the tree.

  It was still snowing two days later when Jennalyn made her way from a parking garage to the hospital’s main entrance. Her blood heated with every step that took her closer, but it was too cold to remove her scarf or unbutton her coat. A few flakes slid beneath her scarf. The hint of cold was short-lived before her heated body melted them. Those few moments made breathing easier.

  Her anxiety hadn’t eased over her last visits to the hospital. The day they’d decorated the tree in Ronald McDonald House in the hospital, after wrapping up at the main house, had almost shattered her last barrier.

  It had been a long day for her, but everyone involved had seemed to enjoy it. The families coming in for food or an escape had appreciated the work. Jennalyn had been swamped with memories, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking at every red wagon she’d seen.

  She hadn’t seen the one she sponsored in Sabrina’s name and the blend of crushing disappointment and irrational relief began a new battle in the chambers of her heart as she approached the front doors. Crossing the threshold into electric warmth, Jennalyn scanned the lobby, half looking for red wagons. She saw one near the fountain. Her heart rose a beat.

  She saw the generic license plate on the back. Her heart sank back into its regular rhythm.

  “Jennalyn,” a perky voice, feminine to its saccharin core, interrupted her mental morass. “It’s so great to see you.”

  Friendly arms encircled her before she could compute what was happening, and almost before she recognized Rhea. The woman had been Sabrina’s day nurse and as well as they’d gotten to know each other, Jennalyn still stiffened in the embrace.

  The nurse’s touch stung like the prick of an incorrectly placed IV needle. She patted Rhea’s back. Once. Twice.

  Be nice and she’ll go to work quickly. “It’s great to see you.”

  Rhea, always undeterred by someone’s desire for space, squeezed her tighter. The sting penetrated more deeply. Almost to the bone. Blissfully unaware of the discomfort she caused, she released Jennalyn.

  “I’ve been hoping you would come back.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Everyone is talking about A Month of Miracles. About a few of the things you and Ryland have done so far.”

  “Speaking of Ryland.” Jennalyn stepped with one foot in the direction of Ryland’s office. The hint failed to register along the tangling pathways of Rhea’s brain.

  “You’re here for the concert today, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” A step toward Ryland’s offices and still Rhea continued.

  “The kids are really looking forward to it. They’re so eager to see who the surprise guests are.”

  “The wait is almost over.” Jennalyn took two more steps toward Ryland’s office with Rhea still following.

  “It’s driving them crazy. Has them all playing guessing games.”

  “Anticipation is half the fun.” Jennalyn put her hand on Rhea’s arm before the chattering busybody could go on. “Before we can get set up and started I need to talk to Ryland.”

  She had to apologize for her behavior. For being so shut off she’d gotten defensive when he’d only been being kind.

  “You two are great together.” The woman, old enough to be Jennalyn’s mother, patted her hand. “You go talk to your man.”

  Jennalyn almost ignored the last statement. If she’d thought for a moment Rhea wouldn’t go gossip with more of Ryland’s staff she’d have let it go. Professionalism was too big a deal to her though. “He isn’t my man.”

  “You’re getting very close.”

  “We’re working together. When the month is over our time together will end.” Each word became a domino tumbling emotion after emotion. Tumbling with emotions she couldn’t separate came two truths. She meant what she said. Yet, she didn’t want them to be the truth.

  Ryland wasn’t in his office when she finally broke away from Rhea. She left a message with his admin that she’d like to speak to him and then she went to oversee the setup for the concert.

  Despite the weather they’d decided to hold the gathering in the courtyard outside the library. In the early days of the hospital it had been a circular drive. Now it was a large courtyard surrounded by the building. As a concession to the cold they’d brought in a tent and several heaters to keep everyone warm. Stepping through the flaps, Jennalyn was pleased at the warmth waiting. Patients would need no more than a light robe to stay warm.

  The stage had been set at one end with large speakers on either side. A platform had been placed in the middle where a camera sat. They would do a live stream of the concert into the patient rooms so the kids who couldn’t come down could still see the concert. To make everyone comfortable while making sure they could see, risers of varying heights had been brought in. A ramp led to each one for wagons and wheelchairs and there would be plenty of chairs, so no one stood.

  In the middle of the space was a throne-like chair where a professional Santa would sit. After the concert he would stay until he’d talked with every child.

  At one end of the tent was a stage. Behind the stage was another section of tent that would hide the guests until the right moment. The only guest who would be kept separate was the child receiving today’s miracle.

  Things were in great shape, but there were still AV checks to be done, as well as
other last-minute confirmations. Then the special guests would arrive and with them a host of other chores she’d lined up volunteers for. Several hours had passed. Ryland stayed too busy wherever he was to come see her. The longer she waited the higher her blood pressure rose. She hadn’t decided what she would say to him, but she knew she had to apologize. The longer she waited the more her hateful words burned.

  Her phone rang. It was Ryland’s office. She swallowed, choking down the bitter taste of crow she hadn’t eaten yet. “Hello.”

  “Jennalyn, it’s Blanche.” Ryland’s grandmotherly assistant.

  “Yes, Blanche.”

  “Your guests have arrived. Mr. Davids will be coming down with them in a few minutes.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.” He couldn’t call to tell her that? By the time she got to see him they’d be surrounded by guests and patients. The time to talk would be gone. Disappointment was a masked phantom behind the haze of mounting frustration. The man was making an apology impossible.

  As she was hanging up, the tent flaps opened. Two men stepped in, dressed as toy soldiers. They held the flaps open for four elves and Santa. Plastering on a smile she didn’t feel, Jennalyn greeted the newcomers and led them to their seats.

  She no sooner had the Christmas crew settled when the flaps were again opened by the soldiers. Filing in, a little timidly though clearly excited, were the first of the patients. She worked with the nurses to get everyone in and seated. The whole time her gaze sought Ryland.

  He should be down with the guests, but he’d stayed out of sight. The longer she was in the hospital without seeing him the more her irritation grew. She’d missed him. She hadn’t missed any man ever, but she missed Ryland.

  She checked her watch, impatient for the time to pass so she could have a few moments alone with Ryland. They were supposed to begin in just a few minutes, so he had to be in the holding room with their guests. Patients, staff and too little time stretched the distance. Edging around the crowd, Jennalyn made it less than halfway to the stage before their MC for the concert entered from the back flaps of the tent. Ryland’s gaze met hers through the opening. In the instant before the flaps fell back into place a chill more intense than the freezing temperatures outside blasted her.

  She needed to come up with an amazing apology.

  Whatever the MC said that got the crowd laughing and then cheering was lost on her. Her own anticipation at seeing select members of the Glee cast failed to penetrate. A corner of her brain registered that Kurt was on the stage, and another part registered that he sang his rendition of “Blackbird”.

  Jennalyn had anticipated the moment, but even the pure beauty of his voice failed to touch her as it so often did. Kurt—Chris Colfer—wrapped up. The applause swelled and then subsided. More cast members came out and sang more songs. Each time the kids cheered. Each time Jennalyn wished it was the last because each carol lost more cheer with her desire to speak with Ryland.

  The MC returned to introduce the next song. The Glee members stepped aside as his words penetrated a little more deeply than before.

  “Some of you know our next guest since she’s been a patient here. I’ve been told stories about how she would walk through the halls singing.”

  Jennalyn’s head rose a little higher.

  “Her favorite song was ‘Brave’ by Idina Menzel.”

  Tears puddled along Jennalyn’s lower lid. She’d heard a girl walking the halls and singing on several occasions. A quiet power had carried the impactful lyrics beyond doors closed for privacy. Even beyond the wretched wails of loss.

  “A girl who stayed brave in the face of a kidney disease that almost killed her is here to sing for us today. Help me welcome Rachel Saltzman to our stage.”

  The MC stepped back as a young girl, maybe fourteen, came into the tent. Her skin looked impossibly pale against her midnight hair, but a healthy blush hued her cheeks. Joy, and a wisdom beyond her years, gave her gaze an eerie punch.

  Rachel.

  Jennalyn hadn’t realized the girl on her list who liked to sing was the same girl she’d heard in the halls. The girl who’d walked the halls while Jennalyn had waited for Sabrina to draw her last breath. She’d never seen the girl, but the sweet voice had come back to her often.

  “Rachel was lucky enough to receive a new kidney, and she’s doing great. And just as her singing in the halls reminded patients, family and staff that every life—however brief—is a blessing, your presence today tells us the same.”

  The puddles of tears at Jennalyn’s lower lids deepened.

  The MC handed Rachel a microphone and thanked her for joining them.

  “Thank you.” Her sweet voice had matured with a strength that rang with hope as she spoke. “Riley and the friends I found here gave me the courage to fight my illness.”

  “Did you ever think you wouldn’t get better?”

  “How could I not when I spent more time in the hospital that I did at home?” Rachel looked at the kids in the room in a way that could make every one of them believe she addressed them directly. “No matter how tough the roughest day was, no matter how overwhelmed I became, I couldn’t let despair rule. The second I gave in to it was the second I lost.”

  “It’s important to fight.”

  “To our last breath, whenever it comes.”

  Freely, like a river swollen from a heavy rain, the tears flowed from Jennalyn’s eyes. The girl’s maturity awed her. Knowing what would come next for the girl was just as awesome.

  “To celebrate that fight for life we have a surprise for you, Rachel.”

  At the back of the stage, Ryland opened the tent flaps. The Glee cast members on stage applauded. Rachel turned. She gasped. Then giggled.

  Standing in the opening was Idina Menzel, the original singer of Rachel’s anthem. The woman who commanded a Broadway stage, the big screen and small screen with equal aplomb moved to Rachel. With a wide smile, she embraced the girl.

  Together, sitting on stools side-by-side, they turned “Brave” into a stunning duet. Neither held back as they sang about being brave even when life was daunting. They reminded Jennalyn of Sabrina’s request that she be brave.

  Being brave meant more than going to work each day.

  Refusing to wait for a perfect moment, Jennalyn left the tent and circled back to the smaller section were Ryland was.

  He turned, looking striking and powerful as he had the night at the zoo. The words she wanted still evaded her. She could only raise her hands before her and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  Ryland came to her, as he had that night, and stood before her. Gazes locked. “Never apologize to me for your feelings.”

  “I was rude.”

  “You were hurting.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Sorry I’ve been too busy to see you before now today.”

  “Make it up to me.”

  “How?”

  She smiled, felt it in her heart. He made being brave easy. “Help me decorate my tree.”

  Chapter Ten

  Pine, cinnamon and cocoa scented her living room. A guitar, lovingly strummed and backed up with other stringed instruments, accompanied a gorgeous version of “No Day But Today”. It was a divorce from the traditional Christmas songs that had been playing, but it suited the mood as Jennalyn stepped back from hanging the last ornament on the tree.

  Ryland flipped the wall switch, casting the living room in a soft white glow. Returning to Jennalyn, he wrapped his arms around her. With her back to his chest they inspected their work.

  “I had you pegged as a colored lights kind of girl.”

  She allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. A deep sigh slipped free, but it didn’t feel sad. He viewed it as a positive sign.

  “People always said that when I decorated my tree. Most of them then argued that clear lights are cold. As if they think of me as cold.”

  “There’s nothing cold about a Christmas tree. Or you.”

  “Then where does the expectation c
ome from?”

  “From your passion. The clear reflects your love of organization.”

  She snorted. Not a laugh. No, it was a full snort. “Until Chrissy got her hands on me I was the most unorganized person you could’ve known.”

  “No way.”

  “Oh yeah. I’ll prove it.” She pulled free of his arms and motioned for him to follow.

  He raised a brow, but didn’t argue as he followed her to her bedroom. “An unmade bed doesn’t count.”

  She shook her head and headed up the stairs. “If only that was the worst of it.”

  “Are you going to show me your skeletons?”

  “There could be a few of those too.” She crossed her room and grasped the handles of the double closet doors. A silent dare, her gaze met his over her shoulder. “If you’ve a weak constitution…”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “I haven’t allowed Chrissy to see this. She’d have a stroke.” With a shrug, she tugged on the doors.

  The closet was nearly as big as her room, which was a pretty good size. Hangers filled every row. Some held clothes. Some didn’t. All of them were stuffed so tightly they didn’t actually fit. Shoes were jammed two and three layers deep onto shelves until they spilled off and onto the floor. The floor was a whole other situation. What looked like three piles of clothes had bled into one larger one. Neatly hanging on two door hooks was her “I Believe in Santa” robe. Sabrina’s was on a hook beside it.

  Ryland looked back at Jennalyn. She stood with her chin high, her shoulders back. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated and wrinkle free.

  “How long does it take you to get dressed in the morning?”

  “Not as long as it takes to find the clothes. And then iron them.”

  The lady was an organized shell with a messy center. That she put herself through a crazy routine every morning when she knew the value of organization made her more endearing. It was an imperfection he liked.

  “You are shattering my illusions, JJ.” He’d only called her JJ twice, but somehow it seemed to suit the moment.

  “What illusions?”

  “That you’re perfect.” Three short strides carried him to her. “You’re always so put together on the outside.” He traced the pressed seam of her sleeve. “Professional.” He fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, tugging lightly. “Organized.” His gaze engaged hers. Held her prisoner. “In control.”