by Kylie Key
IT HAD TAKEN ME THREE days to see Chase’s message, because the storms caused an electricity outage in the region, and my phone wasn’t charged. My heart leapt when I read it: Hi Angelina, just checking to see how you’re doing. I’m sorry I didn’t see you before you left. Hope you had a great 2nd Christmas with your family. Chase Masters.
It was such a sweet message that it made me cry, and Mom saw me furiously trying to blink back tears, which meant I had to fess up. And in my emotionally fragile state I blabbed—that the friendship bracelets I was wearing had been made by him, and how he held my hair while I threw up. I rambled on about his twin sisters and his love of cinnamon rolls.
Mom stroked my hair and said he sounded amazing.
“Actually, he’s not,” I said, forcing myself back to reality. “He was only volunteering because he was made to. And he made me untangle the Christmas lights. He left me to decorate the tree. He did a terrible job.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” I sniffed. “I don’t even know why he’d text me. Probably had to. Nurse May probably made him.”
“Maybe,” Mom said, doing weird things with her eyebrows. “Or...it could be he actually likes you.”
“I doubt it,” I said dismissively, though the memory of his kiss was still imprinted on my forehead.
Mom picked up my wrist, fingering the bracelets, the little bell jingling. A ridiculous smile—no, a smirk—covered her face. I frowned back.
“Angel? Baby? You like him, don’t you?” Mom wrapped her arm around me.
“Yeah, but—”
“But what?” Mom interrupted.
“But I have leukemia and—”
“And it’s in remission,” Mom stated.
“Well, he lives in Snow Ridge,” I argued.
“Which is only forty five minutes away,” Mom said smoothly.
“Well—” I could find excuses all day on why pursuing Chase Masters was the most outrageous thing I could ever do, but Mom was gently persuasive.
“It’s been a big year, Angelina, a tough year. And I couldn’t be more proud of the way you’ve dealt with everything. But you, my darling girl, have the biggest heart, and I think that now is the time that you open it up.” She tapped her fingers against my chest.
“But, what if—”
She kissed the side of my head and I leaned onto her shoulder. “You’ve been so brave, my Angel,” she said. “I say you keep on being brave.”
Opening my heart, letting Chase Masters in, getting close to someone was a risk. But I’d been fighting for every day, knowing each one was a blessing, a gift.
And for each precious day I had so much to be thankful for—
And so much living to do...
Chapter 14
Chase
SNOW RIDGE MISSED THE brunt of the second storm, the areas around us faring much worse with power outages and road closures. Toby and my friends were trapped up at his family’s cabin, but none of them were complaining. They were having the time of their lives, and yeah, there was a pang of envy seeing their videos on their snowboards, but my biggest devastation was missing Angelina.
I’d found the phone number of Smith’s Christmas Tree Farm, but the answerphone had said the farm was closed for Christmas maintenance and to leave a message after the beep. I didn’t, having an irrational fear that if her parents heard it, they’d refuse to let me talk to Angelina.
I checked out her social media, but none of her accounts showed any recent activity. Nonetheless, I sent a message, and it was just as well I didn’t hold my breath waiting for a reply—because I would have died from oxygen deprivation. Yep, there was nothing.
Still, I tried not to be too disheartened by that, and convinced myself it was all good. You see, completing my required volunteer hours before school started back was taking up all of my time anyway, and being grounded meant I wouldn’t be allowed to visit her if I’d wanted to.
So I implemented Plan B, which was to do nothing. Well, until my life returned to normal, and I could go and visit her in person. That is, of course, hoping that Angelina would want to see me again.
New Year’s Eve was going to mark my 44th hour of work, meaning it would be my second to last day at the hospital. May had marked it down as the date to take down the Christmas tree. Taking off the decorations was going to be a lot easier than putting them on.
But that morning Mom got into a tizzy. Her and Dad had already arranged to go to the city to some mayoral function, and Nene was down to babysit. But Nene had woken up with a sore throat and blocked nose, and didn’t want to expose the girls to her germs.
“Chase,” she said, “is there any way you could stay home and watch the girls? Please. I know you’re expected in at the hospital, but could you take a day off?”
My most immediate concern was that if I didn’t go in May would have to find someone else, but I could see the worry etched on Mom’s face. She had already raided the medicine cabinet for cold and flu medication to take to Nene.
“What if the girls came with me?” I said. “I’ve got to take the tree down today, so there’s a bit to do.”
“Oh?” Mom gasped, as if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “I don’t know if May would agree to that. I guess I could see if Mrs. McDonald is free to babysit.”
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” I said, “the girls can help me.”
“Are you sure? I’ll ring May and check.”
Of course it was fine, and she flapped around filling bags with books, games, and snacks for the girls, and giving me instructions as if I wasn’t capable of looking after two seven-year-old girls. Well, was I? Probably two weeks ago you wouldn’t have thought so.
I introduced the girls to the kids who were in their rooms. I always checked to see if they needed anything, and yes, I was now regularly reading stories and playing card games with them. There were different kids from Christmas Day, so I figured the girls could make more bracelets later.
May had already brought out the cartons to store the decorations, so we got to work straight away, as arrangements had been made for the tree to be taken away later. Annalise and Karolina were very particular in wrapping each ornament in tissue paper and stacking them away tidily, banning me after seeing my first effort. They ordered me to remove all the ornaments.
May returned and called the girls over, telling them she’d made them a hot drink. From May’s wink, I got the impression I wasn’t included in the girly break. I shrugged and carried on, no doubt there was some obscure rule about seven-year-olds working anyway.
A throat cleared from the back of the room, and a voice said, “Do you need any help taking down those Christmas lights?”
My heart seized, and I swung around so quickly that my neck jarred. Leaning against the doorway was Angelina, dressed in a pale pink coat with a dark beanie on her head.
I opened my mouth to say her name, but nothing came out.
She smiled as she approached with a spring in her step, removing her gloves and stuffing them into her pockets. By that stage, my voice box had managed to work.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, not waiting for an answer as I took her in an embrace. Only as I inhaled her sweet scent and squeezed her tight did I wonder if it was a bit much. Oh well, too late. She was already in my arms, and I had no intention of letting her go.
She didn’t seem to mind, the moment lingering, a second becoming many. The smile on my face was making my jaw ache. That’s how insanely happy I was, my dream come true. Then a shiver of goosebumps chilled my spine.
“You’re not out of—?” I didn’t want to say the R word—remission—because I feared I would jinx the situation. I released her a tad, desperate to look into her eyes.
She smiled and shook her head. “No, I just had a blood test done.”
I blew out a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. Don’t scare me like that. Hey...” I took hold of her hands, my throat tightening. “I tried to get in touch. I sent you a message.”
“You know? You got it?”
She nodded, her eyes tracking down to the floor.
“You didn’t reply?”
“I didn’t know if it was real,” she whispered.
“What was real?”
“Your message. And the thing between us,” she said, bringing her gaze back to me. “I know you weren’t really volunteering, that you were serving some sort of punishment. So, I wasn’t sure if you came to see me because you had to, or if...”
“Yeah, no, I mean, yeah I stuffed up,” I said, fumbling over my words, “and yeah, I had to do fifty hours work, but that had nothing to do with why I came to see you. I wanted to see you.”
Angelina’s brow lifted, her gray eyes sparked with hope, and for once I spoke with complete clarity. “I missed you,” I whispered.
And her smile said it all. “I missed you too,” she said, and we fell back into a hug like we’d been doing this all our lives, comforting, yet blasting me into a whole other stratosphere. “And...I was hoping you’d help me with something.”
I pulled back, curious. “Anything. Name it.” And I would. If she wanted the stars, I’d deliver.
She looked down shyly and giggled. My heart burst with emotions I couldn’t imagine, an excitement, a thrill, nervous energy, an absurd thought that her request was going to be a kiss. No hesitation, I’d duly oblige.
“Well,” she said, “the cinnamon roll bake-off between my Mom and me, the score is equal. Dad, Noah, Sam and Nana voted for Mom’s, and Phillip, James, Gramps and Mr Pina, our neighbor, voted for mine.”
“I’m the casting vote?”
“Depends,” she said. “If you vote for Mom’s I might have to ask Nurse May or Nurse Jeffrey.” She giggled again, her cheeks full and rosy, and I was sure I was in love. I had to be. Seeing her like this was addictive, it was spell-binding.
“Bring it on,” I said. She took me by the hand and led me down to the staff kitchen.
“Mom wants it videoed, otherwise she’ll say it was a set up,” she said. “You don’t mind?”
“That’s a lot of pressure on me,” I said, swallowing with unease.
“Just be honest, that’s all I ask,” she said.
“Give me a hint,” I murmured as we neared the door. But Angelina shook her head and grinned.
Angelina’s father was a big, stocky man with a full beard, and her brother Phillip, who was almost as tall as me, greeted me with a hint of suspicion. Understandable, I guess. They stood protectively next to Angelina, who made me sit down at the table, a plate of two cinnamon rolls presented before me. May, my sisters, Nurse Jeffrey and Mrs Lark had all assembled.
Phillip moved to the end, holding his phone up. He signaled that filming had started. The rolls were labeled A and B.
“You want me to judge on appearance, or is it just taste?” I asked.
“The whole experience,” Mr Smith said. “Mama will want your full reaction.”
Who knew food critiquing would be my thing? I described the texture of Roll A as being fluffy with a delicately spiced aroma, and the taste scrumptious, but the frosting was slightly too sweet and sticky. Roll B was soft and creamy, and had a stronger cinnamon fragrance, which hinted at coconut. It was topped with a light cream cheese frosting, but it was the layers which set it apart, a burst of cinnamon and coconut with every bite.
My legs jiggled under the table as Phillip moved in my direction, holding the screen up so I could see a woman in an old-fashioned apron, her brown hair tied in a high ponytail.
“Hello Chase,” she addressed me with a cordial smile. “Which roll did you choose?”
“Hello Mrs Smith,” I replied nervously. “Uh, I choose Roll B.”
And then she put her hands to either side of her head and cried, “NOOOOO!!!! My winning streak has ended! Congratulations, baby, you beat me fair and square.”
Angelina pumped her fist, and threw her arms around her father. It was precious to watch. She revealed coconut milk as being her secret ingredient. My sisters cheered, claiming Angelina’s victory like it was their own, and Mr. Smith brought out a box of more rolls for everyone else to share.
I felt kind of special right then—that Angelina had wanted me to select the winner, and I offered up a silent prayer of thanks that I’d chosen her one. Though I had a feeling there would be no hard feelings if her mother had won.
As everyone enjoyed the rolls, I was able to slip Angelina back to the lounge to finish the tree. Mr. Smith had offered to take the hospital tree back to the farm for recycling, but he had a few jobs to do in town first. He said he’d be back shortly, giving us a little more time together. I knew I had to make the most of every minute, because I wasn’t sure when I would see her again.
“How often do you come into Snow Ridge?” I asked, the two of us removing the last of the ornaments.
“It depends. Dad comes in once a week usually. Why?”
I hung my head sheepishly. “Just wondering. It’s just that...you know, I wanna ask you out, but I’m actually grounded at the moment.”
Her cheeks unexpectedly flushed. I liked that. “You’re grounded? Is that still a thing?” She was mocking me. I liked that too.
“Apparently.”
“What did you do?”
“Something stupid. I started a firebomb,” I said, embarrassed by how juvenile it sounded, a junior high prank at best. “But no one got hurt,” I added quickly.
Her eyelashes fluttered in surprise. And disappointment. I needed to redeem myself.
“I know, I know, not one of my finest moments,” I admitted, “but...if I hadn’t done it and been forced to volunteer at the hospital, I would never have met you.”
“True.”
“Actually it’s probably the best punishment I ever had,” I said, playfully nudging her elbow, and when she rolled her eyes and smiled that thing happened again—an out-of-control heart beat, a rush of adrenaline, and a shot of courage. “So,” I reached up to remove a strand of tinsel, “do you think you’d want to go out some time?”
“When you’re not grounded?” she teased.
“Yep, when I’m not grounded.” I draped the tinsel around her neck. “Which will be next year.”
She giggled. “Next year? You mean tomorrow?”
“Yeah, when winter break is over.” The intoxicating scent of cinnamon was drawing me closer to her.
She suddenly turned away from me to pull a star off the tree. “Are you sure?” she whispered. I saw her body tense, and I suspected that she was overcome with doubt and apprehension. “You know, I’m still having treatment, Chase...” She paused, and I understood that her illness was her burden, that it weighed her down.
I hated that.
“Hey,” I said, guiding her watery eyes back to mine, tenderly threading my hand through her hair. I wanted to say something comforting, something reassuring, but you already know words fail me at the worst possible moments.
My thumb slid over her cheeks, swiping stray tears. She drew in a shaky breath, an apologetic look in her eye.
I wanted to take it away.
Her fear, her worry, her insecurity, her disease.
I knew I couldn’t...
But I wanted to be there for her, with her, through it all.
And with that, my lips reached for hers, my spontaneity surprising her, causing her to
gasp,
and pull back.
But then she smiled.
And we laughed.
And drawing her in, we kissed again, our lips pressing together in sweet harmony, a touch that brought hope and happiness and the promise of things to come...
Angelina, my Christmas Angel.
IT WAS GOOD TO BE BACK at school with all my friends. Catching up with everyone and not being grounded, my freedom restored.
My parents and Nene said they were very proud of the way I’d completed my volunteer hours, and May Taylor gave me a little speech on how grateful she was for my
contribution, and the Borellis hugged me fiercely, as did Mrs Lark who said having a youngster around was so refreshing. And before I knew what was happening, I had agreed to continue on as a volunteer on Tuesdays after school and on Sunday once a month.
Mom and Dad were beyond thrilled, saying it would be an asset to my college applications, of which deadlines were looming. Toby, Ronan and Beau mocked my sudden endeavor into altruism, and were shocked to hear I wouldn’t be snowboarding with them on the weekend.
“You’re not coming up to the cabin?” Toby couldn’t hide his disbelief. “My folks won’t be there. It’ll just be us.”
“Man, I thought you’d be dying to hit the slopes,” Beau said. “I mean, it’s been two weeks.”
“What about your new board? You haven’t used it yet,” Ronan said.
“Yeah, I’ve got plans already,” I said.
“Plans? What plans?” Toby asked, eyeing me suspiciously with a narrowed gaze.
I hadn’t wanted to mention too much to my friends, not yet anyway, but I was unable to suppress a smirk. “Just say I have myself a date,” I said.
“What? Whoa! Who?”
As expected, they razzed me, wanting all the details.
And I kind of couldn’t keep Angelina a secret. “I met a girl at the hospital.”
“Is she a nurse?” Beau asked, shoving me in the ribs. Raucous laughter ensued.
“No, she’s not a nurse,” I said, rolling my eyes at them.
“Another saintly volunteer?” That, too, was apparently funny.
I shook my head. “Angelina’s a cancer patient.”
The impact of my words silenced the boys as quickly as if the Principal was making an unexpected appearance in the classroom. Their mouths hung open.
“What do you mean, Chase? A cancer patient?” Toby asked.
I knew it was a big revelation. In our circle of friends, none of us had faced adversity or challenges of any substance. Being grounded was considered off-the-scale, and not getting next-day delivery, or Poppo’s running out of Spicy Jalapeño corn chips was regarded as a tragedy.
I told the boys how Angelina was from Worsford, that she was having chemo treatment for leukemia, and was in remission. Their lack of comebacks meant they were affected, but I didn’t want it to sound like all doom and gloom.
