Island Christmas

by Kimberly Rose Johnson

  “I think I can remember. Thanks.” She stepped into the aisle and followed the crowd into the foyer.

  Someone touched her elbow. She turned and grinned at Chris. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “I am, but I have a quick question. Will you be coming back next week?”

  “We might.”

  He smiled. “Good. See you.” He turned and walked toward the exit.

  She found her way to Jason’s class and watched him playing with another boy until he noticed her.

  “Mommy!” He jumped up and ran to her.

  “Hi, buddy. Put the toys away you were playing with, and then we can go.”

  Her son quickly cleaned up and placed the Mr. Potato Head on a low shelf.

  There were two adults in the room—one male, one female. The female handed him some papers. “Don’t forget your lesson, Jason. If you memorize the verse and come back next week and tell it to me, you will get to choose from the prize box.”

  Jason’s face lit with excitement.

  The male teacher turned to Rachel. “Jason is quite verbal. I would never have guessed he’s only three.”

  “It comes from being around adults all the time. Plus my parents are grammar sticklers and have been working with him since he was old enough to talk. I hope he wasn’t a problem.”

  “Not at all. We enjoyed him.”

  Rachel held out her hand to him and thanked the teachers before walking away.

  “I had fun, Mommy. Can we come back again?”

  “We’ll see.” If the people there found out about her past, they might reject her and her son. One thing was certain, no one could find out about her past, if she decided to go back.

  “But I want a prize from the box,” he whined.

  “I said we’d see.” Her firm tone brooked no room for argument. She guided him outside and to the parking lot. “Tell me about what you did.”

  “We sang songs, played games, listened to a story, colored, had a snack, and at the end we got to play with toys.”

  She opened the passenger door, and he scrambled inside. After making sure he was secure she got behind the wheel and headed home. Maybe going to church was a good idea. It gave her a break from her mom duties, and she really did enjoy the song time. She didn’t exactly recall what the preacher had to say, since her mind wandered most of the time, but Jason seemed to have gotten a lot out of his class.

  “Did you know Jesus walked on water?”

  “He did? I had no idea. Tell me about it.” She glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

  “Well there was a storm, and his friends were out on a boat. He walked out to them and told them to not be afraid. Jesus is God’s son. Did you know that?”

  “Yes. I’ve heard.” She grinned at him through the rearview mirror. “It sounds like you learned a lot today.” She wasn’t sure what she thought about all of this, but she was open to looking more deeply into Christianity. It wasn’t like she didn’t believe there was a God, she simply hadn’t given Him much thought. Maybe it was time to make a change, at least for Jason’s sake.

  They went home and dropped off Jason’s stuff. She changed into jeans and a sweater then grabbed the fudge from the fridge she’d made to take over to the B&B. “Let’s go, Jasie.”

  “I’m playing,” he said from his bedroom.

  She found him in the middle of his room building another block tower. “How about you pick out three small toys to take with us and put them in your backpack.”

  A short time later they pulled into the B&B parking lot. This place felt like a second home, more so than her parents’ house.

  Her parents were supportive and had given everything to help her and Jason, but she knew they didn’t approve of her life choices. They’d made that abundantly clear with thinly veiled hostile remarks. She shook off all thoughts of her parents and unstrapped Jason from his car seat. She waited for him to grab his backpack then they went inside.

  “Hello,” she called out.

  “In the kitchen,” Zoe said.

  They sauntered into the room. “Mmm. Something smells heavenly.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I brought fudge.”

  Zoe’s head whipped toward her, eyes widening. “I love fudge.”

  “Good.” She grinned.

  “Have a seat. Lunch won’t be ready for a bit. Jason, Nick is downstairs. Would you like to go down and watch a video?”

  “Okay.”

  Rachel followed and quickly settled him on the couch then went back up to the kitchen.

  “I saw you sitting with Chris this morning.”

  “Yes, he showed me where Jason’s class was, and by the time we got into the service, it had started. I didn’t want to walk up to where you and Nick were sitting. I hope you don’t mind.”

  A twinkle lit Zoe’s eye as she poured them each a cup of coffee. “Not at all. So what did you think?”

  “I really enjoyed the singing, and your pastor has a pleasant voice. Jason loved it and begged me to take him back next week.” She shrugged and stared into her coffee. “We’ll see.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  Should she tell Zoe how she really felt? Her friend could be trusted and wouldn’t judge her, that much she was sure of, but did she want her to know? It wasn’t like she was that person anymore. Then again, confession was good for the soul, so maybe talking about it would help. She sat at the island and cradled her coffee cup. She took a bracing breath then met Zoe’s curious gaze. “I feel like a fraud when I’m there.”

  Zoe frowned. “I don’t understand. Did someone say something rude to you?”

  “No. Everyone was very nice actually.” Rachel took a long sip from her cup and set it down slowly. Her mind raced for an appropriate response. “I don’t belong there with all of you perfect people. I’m too messed up.” Zoe of all people should understand why she felt this way. Her friend knew a little of her past.

  Zoe’s brow scrunched. “Only one perfect person ever walked on this earth, and it certainly wasn’t anyone at any church. Where is this coming from, Rachel?”

  Chris sat at the dining room table in the B&B eating a club sandwich he’d purchased at the general store. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but Zoe and Rachel’s voices carried through the quiet house. What did Rachel mean about being too messed up? Other than her spiritual life, she seemed to have it together.

  He chuckled softly when Zoe asked her the same question. He could clearly hear Rachel’s response “You don’t know me all that well, Zoe. Before we met I was wild. My parents said I was sowing my wild oats. I was rebellious and only lived for a good time. Getting pregnant with Jason sobered me up. He changed everything. I suddenly had a choice to make, and I wanted to make the right one. Then when my husband, Jason, died two weeks after we were married, fear put me on the straight and narrow.”

  She’d named her son after her husband. He half wondered why she hadn’t added the junior part, not that it mattered.

  Rachel continued. “My son needed a parent, and I didn’t want my parents raising him because I was too high or drunk to take care of him after a party. I couldn’t continue with the lifestyle I’d been living. I’m clean and sober, all the time now, but the things I used to do… let’s just say, you don’t want to know.”

  He tuned out Zoe’s reply. His appetite dulled. This must be what he sensed Rachel was hiding. The woman Rachel described was nothing like the person he’d gotten to know over the past few weeks. The woman he knew was responsible, caring, put her son before herself. He hadn’t seen any drug paraphernalia or an ounce of liquor in her home, nor did he ever smell it on her breath.

  Rachel had a past—everyone did, but hers was sketchy at best from the sound of it. He felt torn between anger, denial, and hurt. Not hurt for himself, but for her. He could only imagine the unspeakable… no he wouldn’t go there—couldn’t. He cared about Rachel as a friend, and as such he would support her, but as a man he wasn’t sure he could ignore her past ac
tivity. He was angry that she had engaged in that kind of behavior. She was smarter than that.

  Then again she had been young and stupid. Lots of young people partied and turned out fine. Clearly Rachel fell into that category. He rested his head in his hands, hurting for her, for them. She’d lost her innocence. Sure she’d been married and had a child, but what she lost was a different kind of innocence, and it grieved him.

  He tuned back in to the conversation in the kitchen. “Rachel, I want you to listen to me when I tell you this, because I know what I’m talking about. Your past is in the past. My parents lived the life you described, except when they had me, they didn’t love me enough to change their ways. I’m proud of you for getting clean and sober. How did you do it? When you were here that summer I saw no sign that you had a substance problem.”

  “I wasn’t an addict or alcoholic, but I knew how to party. It was good that Jason had asked me to come find the ring for him, because it got me away from my old friends and their influence. I was away long enough that they forgot about me, and no one bothered me once I went home to live with my parents. In spite of evidence to the contrary, I’m not a stupid person. I knew what I was doing to myself, and I didn’t care, but I could not do that to my child, whether I kept him or not.”

  “That’s right. I remember you weren’t sure what you were going to do with your baby. Any regrets?”

  “Not even one. I love Jason more than anything in the world. I would have hated myself if I’d given him up. Not that adoption is a bad thing, but it would have torn me up inside. Once I realized my parents would support me and help me get on my feet, I knew I would keep him. The money from the ring helped to partially finance culinary school, and my parents gave us a home rent free until I could save up enough to get Jason and me a place of our own.”

  “I’m proud of you, Rachel, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up over your past. The people at church don’t need to know how you used to be, and even if they find out, I don’t see that they’d have an issue with you. It’s no one’s business—I happen to know there are people at church who have their own pasts they deal with. I hope you will continue to come to church and learn about the Lord. I have a Bible I’d like to give you. I think the people written about in there will surprise you. They are not only imperfect, but several of them did some pretty rotten stuff, and you know what? God loved them anyway.”

  Way to go, Zoe. Guilt pressed in on him for eavesdropping. He shouldn’t have paid attention to what they were saying, even though he’d been compelled to know why Rachel said she was messed up. He wrapped the remainder of his sandwich and tossed it into the garbage can. He didn’t want to be caught sitting here if Rachel left the kitchen.

  One thing was certain though, he had some soul searching and praying to do. He’d thought that the only thing between him and Rachel was her not being a Christian, but her past was now an issue as well.

  It wasn’t fair of him to hold her past against her, but what if she had an STD or what if she relapsed and went back to her old ways? He shook his head, working to shove the thought away. If the Lord should bless him with a relationship with Rachel then it would mean she belonged to Him and she was redeemed.

  What she did in her old life wouldn’t matter because she would have a new beginning. God would forgive her, and who was he to judge? It wasn’t like he was perfect. Sure he’d never felt the desire to party or do the things Rachel had, but he was far from perfect. What do I do, Lord?

  A peace washed over him. He didn’t have to decide now. All he had to do was trust.

  Rachel snuggled into the arm of the couch late Sunday evening with Zoe’s Bible cradled in her hands. Zoe had marked several spots she thought she should read. The story about King David mesmerized her. The man was a scoundrel, and his actions did not come without consequences, but God loved him anyway. Astounding. Maybe He could love her, too. But she felt that David was special. Surely God didn’t love everyone who messed up like that. She’d have to keep reading to find out, but it was getting late.

  A moan from Jason’s room drew her attention. Before she tucked him into bed, he’d complained that his tummy hurt. Had it gotten worse? She hurried into his room and placed a hand on his forehead. Worry turned her stomach. His skin was warm to the touch.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Chris awakened to the sound of his cell phone buzzing. He rolled over and pulled it off the nightstand. “Hello.” He cleared his gravelly voice.

  “Chris, it’s Rachel. I can’t get hold of Nick, and there’s something wrong with Jason.”

  He shot out of bed. “What’s wrong with Jason?”

  “I’m not sure. He has a bad stomachache, and his belly is swollen.”

  His mind shot to the past. His brother had had similar symptoms and had died from a ruptured appendix. He glanced at the clock—three in the morning. “Does he have a fever?”

  “I didn’t take it, but he feels hot. Hold on a minute.” Her voice wobbled.

  His pulse thrummed in his ears. Should he wake Nick or tell Rachel to take her son to the hospital? He didn’t want her to have another hospital bill if it turned out to be a stomachache and trapped gas.

  “It’s one hundred and one.”

  He ran a hand through the hair at the base of his neck. “Don’t freak out, Rachel, but it sounds like appendicitis to me.” He didn’t want to tell her about his little brother or she would lose it for sure.

  “Will you get Nick please?” She sounded like she was crying.

  “On my way.” He threw open his door and raced down the stairs. He pounded on Nick’s apartment door.

  A moment later it opened. Nick stood there looking tousled, but alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “Rachel needs to talk with you.” He thrust his cell phone at Nick and took a step back.

  “No. The ferry doesn’t run this early. Your only option is Wildflower Hospital. I’ll meet you there.” He tossed the phone to Chris. “Thanks.”

  “Do you think it’s appendicitis?”

  Nick nodded before closing the door.

  Now what? He couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Rachel’s son was in trouble. He showered and dressed. The walls of his room felt like they were closing in, but going to the hospital right now would be futile. Rachel and Jason would be in an exam room or having tests run. He’d be pacing the hospital waiting room alone.

  Lord, please don’t let Jason die.

  Memories of the day his little brother died flooded his mind—the worst day of his life. If only Rick had said something, maybe they could have gotten him help in time. But his little brother was stoic and had rarely complained about anything, much less not feeling well.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Pacing the hospital waiting room had to be better than this. As he drove to the hospital it struck him—Rachel’s past, though painful, should not and would not come between them. Life and death situations had a way of bringing clarity. He knew without a shadow of doubt that Rachel’s past didn’t matter to him anymore. She wasn’t the person she used to be.

  He pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and raced inside, hoping he’d delayed enough to give Nick or whoever time to determine exactly what was wrong with Jason. Who would have thought a three-year-old would spend so much time as an emergency patient? They were all becoming too familiar with the facility.

  A vending machine that distributed coffee, tea, and hot chocolate stood near the entrance. He slid in the exact amount of money and purchased a hot chocolate and a coffee, unsure which one Rachel would want, then went to the reception desk. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Rachel and Jason Narrelli.” Just then Rachel walked into the waiting room from the direction of the exam area. She looked ready to drop. He rushed to her side. “Coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “Coffee. Thanks.” She sipped it and made a face. “It’s awful.”

  He gently took the coffee from her hand and gave her the other option. “How’s Jason?”

  �
�They did an ultrasound.” Her voice hitched. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “His appendix hasn’t burst, but they must do emergency surgery. They are sedating him and prepping him for surgery.”

  “They do that kind of thing here on a child?” His brother had been taken to a children’s hospital because they needed the right sized equipment.

  She nodded. “Apparently, after a child died because they didn’t have the proper equipment to treat him, Nick convinced the hospital board that they should be more prepared for young children. The ferry hours make transportation to a pediatric hospital impossible from ten P.M. to six A.M. This place actually has a tiny pediatric wing.”

  “That’s amazing. Nick’s foresight might have saved your son’s life.” He guided her to a set of nearby seats.

  She paled. “I hadn’t thought about the possibility of him dying.” Her hands shook so badly he was afraid she’d drop the cup.

  He carefully took the cup from her and placed it on the floor. “Jason is in good hands.”

  She looked at him with haunted eyes. “He’s all I have. What if they don’t get to it in time, and his appendix ruptures?”

  He draped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t think like that. Many people have survived even a ruptured appendix.”

  “Right. Positive thoughts—like that will do any good.”

  He had to agree with her. Positive thoughts wouldn’t affect the outcome of the surgery, but one thing would. “May I pray with you for Jason?”

  Her eyes teared up, and she nodded. He bowed his head. “Lord, Jason needs Your help. Please guide the surgeon and help him take care of Jason. And Lord, please comfort Jason and give him Your peace. I also ask for Your comfort and peace for his mom. Thanks. Amen.” He dropped his arm from her shoulder and sat back. Jason had to be okay. He just had to be. He couldn’t die like Rick had.

  Chris gazed around the pleasant looking waiting room decorated in earth tones. A huge fish tank with several colorful fish hummed nearby. A fake Christmas tree stood in one corner and garlands with colored lights decorated the reception desk. Funny, he hadn’t noticed any of that when he’d first come in. As a rule he hated hospitals, but this one had gone to great lengths to make the place appear pleasant.