The Doctor's Christmas Proposal

by Laura Iding

  Dr. Mitch Reynolds finally found the cafeteria

  Kids dashed from one side of the room to the other among a sea of red, white and green balloons. The familiar pang of longing pierced his heart. He was turning away, intent on putting as much distance between himself and the painful reminder as he could, when he caught sight of a petite brunette wearing a strange elf costume.

  Arrested by the image, he froze. The woman was pretty, in spite of the green tights and tunic. What held his attention was the way she tended to the child, smoothing a hand over the girl’s hair and smiling down at her with a caring, compassionate look. His gaze lingered on her legs, until he pulled himself together.

  Enough. The cute elf wasn’t his concern. In fact, if he were smart he’d stay far away from any hint of temptation.

  Dear Reader,

  Christmas is such a glorious time of the year. I love the fun of the holiday season, hiding gifts, baking cookies and spending time with my family.

  But what if you didn’t have a family? What if someone finds they’re alone during this holiday season?

  Family is a state of mind. We all know some families aren’t as integrated or as cohesive as others. But if you open your heart and your mind, Christmas can be a time when you become closer to the people whose lives you touch. I’ve been lucky during the course of my nursing career to have shared some special holiday memories with a few very wonderful patients and their families.

  Which is exactly how critical-care intensivist Dr. Mitch Reynolds and critical-care nurse Dana Whitney spend their Christmas Eve. Both Mitch and Dana are recovering from losing someone they loved during previous holidays, but listening to one small child’s Christmas wish, a new set of lungs for her mommy, they succumb to a contagious holiday spirit.

  In their efforts to make one little girl happy, they find themselves realizing we never lose the ones we love but hold a special place in our hearts for dear memories. Best of all, Mitch and Dana discover the ability to laugh, to cry and to fall in love.

  I hope you enjoy The Doctor’s Christmas Proposal. Please have a safe and joyous holiday season.

  Merry Christmas!

  Laura Iding

  P.S. I love to hear from my readers. Please visit my Web site at www.lauraiding.com and drop me a note.

  The Doctor’s Christmas Proposal

  Laura Iding

  To Mom and Dad. Thanks for all the wonderful Christmas gatherings at the Iding house.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  DANA WHITNEY HIKED her itchy neon-green tights up and tried not to grimace as the bells around her wrists and ankles tinkled merrily. So much for her attempt to get into the Christmas spirit. She felt ridiculous. None of the other ICU nurses were standing in the middle of Trinity Medical Center’s cafeteria dressed as one of Santa’s elves for the children’s Christmas party. Why in the world had she thought this would be a good idea?

  Because she’d made a promise to her mother before she’d died. Dana rolled her shoulders to ease the tension creeping along her neck accompanying the memories. Her promise to remember only the good times and not the sad times during the holidays was going to be harder to keep than she’d thought. Forcing off a wave of sorrow, she tugged on the green tunic that ended about mid-thigh and dodged a couple of kids running past her, chasing balloons.

  Keeping busy would be the key. And reveling in the true meaning of Christmas. Not the easiest thing to do while dressed as an elf. Luckily she was scheduled to work over the holidays so she wouldn’t be sitting home alone.

  A little girl tugged on her tunic. Dana glanced down.

  “Is it my turn yet?” the child asked.

  Realizing she’d lost track for a moment, Dana flashed a guilty smile. “Yes. Here you go.” Dana lifted the girl and sat her on Santa’s lap.

  “Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas!” Santa, who was currently being played by Dr. Joe Sansone gave a hearty chuckle. “So, little girl, what would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?”

  “You’re not really Santa.” The little girl stared at him with wide, serious blue eyes. “Are you?”

  “Well, now, you’re smart to figure out Santa is up at the North Pole, hard at work in his toy shop.” Joe winked at the girl. “But he needs helpers like me so that we can keep track of what each child wants for Christmas. What’s your name, honey?”

  “Wendy Kinkade. I’m seven.”

  Santa nodded. “And I’ll bet you’ve been a very good girl this year, too. What would you like for Christmas, Wendy?”

  “New lungs for my mommy.”

  Huh? Dana wondered if she’d misunderstood but, no, Wendy’s earnest gaze never wavered from Santa’s face.

  “New lungs for your mommy?” Joe caught Dana’s gaze and lifted a questioning brow.

  Dana gave a helpless shrug and swept a glance around the area. Sure enough, there was a woman wearing oxygen seated in a wheelchair off to the side of the group of rambunctious kids. In addition to appearing pale and drawn, the woman looked familiar. Dana wrinkled her brow, trying to place her.

  “Yes.” Wendy bobbed her head. “My mommy’s on the transplant list, but we’ve been waiting a really, really long time.”

  “I see.” Santa cleared his throat, and Dana suspected Joe was hesitant to promise something that would likely take a medical miracle. Of all the various transplant lists, waiting for lungs took the longest. A wave of compassion swept over her.

  “Please? I know it’s asking for a lot, but I don’t need any toys and neither does my brother, Chad.”

  “Come on, Wen.” Her brother rolled his eyes and looked around as if embarrassed. “Hurry up already.”

  “I promise to pass your request on to Santa, but he can’t make new lungs in his toy shop,” Joe cautioned.

  “I know. But Santa is magic, so I’m sure he can get my mommy a new set of lungs without having to make them.” Wendy smiled, revealing a gap from her missing front tooth. “Thanks, Mr. Santa’s helper.”

  Chad walked up to lift his sister down from Santa’s lap then turned away, obviously too grown-up to take his turn on Santa’s lap. “Geez, Wen. I can’t believe you didn’t ask for the latest Glo-doll or a new bike. Santa’s not going to be able to help Mom move up on the transplant list.” With a snort of disgust, he reached for her hand. “Let’s go. Mom’s waiting.”

  “Wait. Don’t forget your gift.” Dana pulled herself together long enough to grab a gift stocking out of her bag for Wendy. “Do you want one, too, Chad? There’s candy inside.”

  The boy looked as if he might refuse then gave a jerky nod. “Thanks,” he muttered when she handed him another stocking. He tugged on his sister’s hand, steering her through the crowd to where the woman in the wheelchair waited patiently. Finally her memory clicked.

  “Jessica Kinkade.” Dana snapped her fingers as she recognized the patient who’d been admitted off and on to the ICU. Dana looked at Joe. “Wendy’s mother has pulmonary hypertension. She’s admitted to the ICU when it flares up and she can’t breathe.”

  “She’s young and pulmonary hypertension is a good reason to be on the lung transplant list. Hopefully, she’ll do better than most.” Joe shook his head, then straightened his beard when it slipped. “Poor kids. I hope their mom gets a chance at a second life soon
.”

  “Me, too.” Dana didn’t have time to say more as the next child was already climbing onto Joe’s lap.

  One of the kids stepped on her foot. “Ouch.” She reached down to massage her toes through the felt elf shoes. “No fighting with the balloons,” she warned, using her best stern voice as two boys set out to knock each other silly.

  The boys stopped batting each other long enough to glance up at her, then went at it again. Feeling a headache begin to throb along her temple, she motioned for one of the other elves, Susan from Physical Therapy, to take over the job of keeping the kids in line and handing out the gift stockings. Then she inched over to where Jessica sat near her children.

  “Santa is, too, magic.” Wendy looked close to tears as she stared mutinously at her brother, tiny hands propped on her hips. Dana’s heart went out to the little girl. “He can so get Mommy a new set of lungs.”

  “You’re such a baby,” Chad argued in a dismissive tone. “Stop talking about it. You’re upsetting Mom.”

  Dana was willing to bet that it was listening to her kids arguing rather than anything Wendy had said that was causing the strain on Jessica’s features. She stepped closer, ready to intervene. “Hi Jessica. Are these your children? I can’t believe how much they’ve grown since I last saw them.”

  “Yes, they’re…growing like weeds…every day.” Jessica had to pause often to take a breath, but she appeared grateful for the interruption. “You’re cute…as an elf…Dana.”

  “Guess my disguise isn’t working real well, huh?” Dana flashed a rueful smile as she gave the tights another subtle hike. She turned towards Wendy and Chad. “Are you two hungry? There’s cookies and punch over there.” Dana gestured to the other side of the room, where a group of kids had gathered in front of a long table laden with treats.

  “Cookies?” Chad’s attention was successfully diverted to food. “Cool. Do you want one Mom?”

  “No, thanks…You both…go ahead.” Jessica watched them run off.

  “How are you really feeling, Jessica?” Dana noted the dusky tinge around the woman’s mouth with concern. “Have you been seen in the clinic lately?”

  “Yes. I was…just admitted…yesterday…to a room…on Four West.” Jessica sighed. “I’m hoping…they can adjust…my meds…so I can go…home soon.”

  Jessica didn’t look well enough to be discharged but before Dana could say anything more, there was a muffled cry from halfway across the room. She turned in time to see the two rowdy boys hit Wendy hard enough to knock her backwards, off her feet.

  “Hey!” Dana rushed over to Wendy, giving the boys a stern look. “I already told you, no fighting.”

  She set the girl on her feet, and to her surprise Wendy wrapped her arms around Dana’s legs and buried her face in the green fabric of her tunic.

  “What’s wrong, Wendy? Did those boys hurt you?” Dana gently stroked Wendy’s hair.

  “No.” Wendy shook her head, then peered up at Dana through tear-tipped lashes. “Do you think Santa is magic?”

  “Ah…sure I do.” Was she wrong to encourage the child to believe in magic and miracles when she didn’t believe in them herself? Maybe. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to wipe the blatant hope from Wendy’s bright eyes.

  “Really?” Wendy’s lower lip trembled. “Or are you just saying that because you’re dressed like an elf?”

  The mere mention of the annoying elf costume made her legs itch. She subtly rubbed one leg over the other, then bent down to smooth a hand over Wendy’s bright silky red hair. “Sweetheart, I think there is all sorts of magic in the world. Love is just like magic. You love your mother and she loves you. There’s nothing more powerful than that.”

  For a moment Wendy clung to her legs, then finally her expression cleared and she let go. Dana took her hand and walked her back to where her mother waited. Chad joined them soon afterwards and once the boy had stuffed the last bit of cookie in his mouth, he promptly took charge of his mom’s wheelchair.

  “Bye, Jessica. I’ll come up to visit before I start my shift.” Dana waved as Chad wheeled his mom away.

  Dana watched them walk off, the kids acting very adult-like as they took care to make sure Jessica’s wheelchair didn’t hit anything. The knot in her belly grew as she suspected there wasn’t enough magic in the world to ensure Jessica received a lung transplant as a Christmas present.

  Poor Wendy. Dana couldn’t stand the thought of the little girl being so upset and disappointed, especially during the holiday season.

  Dana straightened her shoulders. Finding the holiday spirit would be difficult to do for her own sake, but she could support Jessica’s kids. Maybe she couldn’t give Jessica a new pair of lungs, but she could remain positive enough to help boost holiday morale for her patients and their families.

  And in doing so, she’d fulfill the promise she’d made to her mother.

  After making two wrong turns, Dr. Mitch Reynolds finally found the cafeteria, but the place looked like a war zone. Kids dashed from one side of the room to the other among a sea of red, green and white balloons. The familiar pang of longing pierced his heart and his appetite evaporated. He was turning away, intent on putting as much distance between himself and the painful reminder as he could, when he caught sight of a petite brunette, wearing a strange elf costume, hugging a child who’d wrapped her arms around her legs.

  Arrested by the image, he froze. The woman wasn’t classically beautiful, but pretty, in spite of the neon-green tights and tunic. What held his attention was the way she tended to the child, smoothing a hand over the girl’s bright red hair and smiling down at her with a caring, compassionate gaze.

  The perfect cameo of a mother. He closed his eyes for a moment, then, when he looked again, he realized the brunette elf was leading the girl towards a woman seated in a wheelchair. Soon a boy joined them and the two kids pushed the woman in the wheelchair towards the elevator, leaving the elf behind. The woman in the wheelchair and the two kids all shared the same bright red hair.

  Apparently the cute elf wasn’t the girl’s mother.

  He shook off the ridiculous thought. What difference did it make? Meeting women wasn’t high on his list of priorities at the moment. He definitely wasn’t in the market for another woman or a family. Bells jangled at the elf’s wrists and ankles when she walked over to break up a fight between two boys who kept swatting at other kids with their balloons. His gaze lingered on her legs, until he pulled himself together.

  Enough. The cute elf wasn’t his concern. In fact, if he were smart he’d stay far away from any hint of temptation. Abandoning the cafeteria, he headed for the deli on the other side of the hospital. Someone had mentioned the deli wasn’t fully operational on the weekends, but there were cold sandwiches available in the various vending machines. To his mind, vending-machine food was a far better option than facing the crowd of kids in the cafeteria.

  Mitch sighed and jammed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. The chief of pulmonary/critical care medicine, Dr. Ed Jericho, had recruited him to Trinity Medical Center from Kansas City University Hospital. So far, the change of scenery had been good for him. Milwaukee was surprisingly nice, a combination of big city and small town packed into one. If not for the holiday decorations haunting him at every turn, he’d feel better about his decision to move, to start over after two of the worst years of his life.

  The bitter taste of anguish lingered on his tongue. Although he’d had two years to work his way through the maze of grief, the holidays were always the hardest to face. A constant reminder of everything he’d loved and lost. But the holiday theme would have been a problem no matter where he worked. At least the job here at Trinity Medical Center was a good one. He loved the challenge of critical care and with this position as an assistant professor he could take care of patients and teach new residents.

  Starting over, creating a new life for himself.

  He found the deli much quieter than the cafeteria. After feeding
a couple of dollar bills into the slot of a vending machine, he took his sandwich and sat at one of the empty seats. The ham and swiss on rye tasted like rubber, but he wasn’t all that hungry anyway. Glancing at his watch, he figured he had at least another ten minutes before he needed to get back up to the ICU. He’d finished making rounds, but still needed to write daily progress notes on all the patients under his care.

  “Code Blue, Four West. Code Blue, Four West.” The overhead announcement propelled him to his feet.

  Four West? He tossed the remains of his ham on rye in the garbage on his way out the door. He had a vague idea where the Four-West wing was, and even though his residents would respond, he wanted to be there to supervise his first emergency situation here at Trinity.

  Adrenaline kicked in as he ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. Breathless, he reached the landing, then followed the rest of the Code Blue responders as they dashed toward a patient’s room, where a crash cart was being rolled inside.

  “Wait! Don’t intubate her yet.” A female voice rose in agitation above the din. “She has pulmonary hypertension. Just bag her for a few minutes.”

  Mitch entered the room, and somehow wasn’t shocked to find the brunette elf holding off the anesthesiologist, who appeared very annoyed.

  “What’s going on?”

  The elf turned toward him. “Jessica Kinkade has pulmonary hypertension and is on the lung transplant list. If you intubate her, you’ll never be able to get the tube out. I really think we should try a non-invasive method to improve her oxygenation first.”

  “And who are you?” Mitch moved to the patient’s bedside, recognizing the woman in the wheelchair from the cafeteria earlier. A quick glance around the room ascertained her two children weren’t sitting there, watching the commotion.

  “I’m Dana Whitney, one of the nurses in the ICU. I know Jessica. She’s been admitted several times.”

  “Hold off on the intubation,” Mitch directed the anesthesiologist. “Dana is right. We need to try a bi-pap mask first.”