A Family-Style Christmas and Yuletide Homecoming

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Glancing sidelong, he saw the Bible again.

  Why not? he thought, reaching for it. He had read it a couple of times since he came here. This time he flipped past the first books of the Old Testament and stopped at Isaiah, not really sure why. He skipped the first part with its woes and imprecations of doom for Israel.

  Then he saw it. “Comfort, comfort ye my people.” Isaiah 40. The words spoke to a part of him he hadn’t wanted to bring out in a long time. Comfort. Who had ever offered him that before? Counselors spoke of owning the problem, of acknowledging his part in what happened in his life, of taking charge and being in control. Foster parents spoke of letting down his guard and allowing people to care.

  But other than his adoptive father none of them had offered the comfort he had just read about.

  The words were familiar in an old way, he thought, tracing them with his finger. “The voice of one crying in the desert, prepare the way for the Lord.” He vaguely remembered hearing them at a church service with candles.

  Christmas, he realized as the memory returned. Christmas with Jake and Tom Steele, the widower who’d adopted them. The picture of the three of them sitting in a church pew slipped unbidden into his mind, the soft glow of candlelight as the minister spoke the words of Isaiah 40. The words of promise, of peace, of rest.

  Allowing even that small memory to come back created a sharp surge of pain. Simon swallowed, closing his eyes. Weakness, he thought. Dependence.

  Loss.

  He almost threw the book aside, but forced his eyes open, forced himself to get past the pain. He was alone out of choice. Simon pushed his memories aside and read on, determined to get past this.

  He got to verse 28 and read, “Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

  Simon read the words, his heart constricting. He had stumbled and fallen in so many ways. Reading the verses vaguely familiar to him made him look backward to memories he thought he had safely stored away, and by doing so, he compared them to his current life. The decisions he’d made that were so far from the ones he’d been raised to make.

  I had no choice, he reiterated to himself. I had to learn to take care of myself. No one else would.

  He willed the memories away, laying down the Bible. Mentally he cursed the disability that kept him here in this hospital. He needed to get out, to leave, to keep himself busy.

  He needed to outrun the thoughts that plagued him, reminded him of a different life and values.

  He didn’t want to look at himself anymore. Because when he did, he saw himself through Caitlin’s eyes and he didn’t like what he saw.

  * * *

  As Caitlin walked up the steps to the ward, she wished she could suppress the sense of expectation that lifted her steps. Much as she liked to deny it, deep within her she knew it was because of Simon.

  His behavior yesterday should have put her off, should have made her realize what kind of guy he was. So why did thoughts of him still make her heart flip?

  I’m really going nuts, she thought pushing open the door to the ward. Thank goodness she would be leaving in a few days. She needed to get away, see other places. Balance out the strangeness of her attraction to a patient compared to the lack of emotion she felt around Charles.

  Thank goodness it was her last day of work here. Once today was over, Simon would be part of her history.

  “Hi, girl.” Danielle already sat at the desk. “How was yesterday?”

  Val piped up from behind the desk, “Her boyfriend stopped by. What a babe.”

  Danielle gave Caitlin an appraising look. “What did Mr. Frost want?”

  Caitlin shrugged, pulling her purse off her shoulder. “To take me out.”

  “And...” Danielle said.

  Thankfully the charge nurse from the previous shift had come to the desk, ending the conversation.

  Caitlin checked on a new admission. Vitals had just been done so she would be okay for a while. With a flutter of trepidation, she stepped into Shane and Simon’s room. The crowd around Shane’s bed was noisy and boisterous. She only recognized Shane’s older brother, Matthew, out of the group of mostly teenagers.

  “You’ll have to keep it down a bit, I’m afraid,” Caitlin warned the group with a smile. “There are other patients in this room.”

  “We can do that,” Matthew said with a wink. The girl beside him noticed and turned to give Caitlin an appraising stare that wasn’t really friendly. He added, “If there’s anything else I can do for you...” He was cut off by an elbow planted in his midsection.

  “Give it up, Matt,” Shane joked, glancing quickly at Caitlin. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

  Caitlin didn’t bother to correct him.

  She gave them an inane smile and then stepped around the curtain to face Simon, suppressing a silly schoolgirl flutter at the thought of facing him again.

  The light was off above his empty bed, the sheets thrown back.

  Her heart stopped, then started again as she noticed a figure by the window, leaning on a pair of crutches.

  I never realized he was so tall, she thought. He stood sideways to her. Even in the subdued light from Shane’s bed, it wasn’t hard to make out his broad shoulders, long legs. He had thrown a hospital-issue dressing gown over his pajamas but even hunched over the crutches, he had a commanding presence.

  “Hi, there,” she said unable to think of anything else to say. “How did you get out of bed?”

  “Determination,” he said, still looking out the window. “What can I do for you?” His voice held the same mocking indifference she had come to associate with him.

  “I just came by to see how you’re doing. The usual shift-change stuff.” She clasped her hands in front of her and lifted them in his direction. “According to Trevor’s report, you’ve been working quite hard today. You should have waited until someone could help you out of bed,” she said carefully, striving to keep her voice neutral.

  “I had to try myself. I figure the further I progress, the sooner I’m out of here.”

  It was what she had thought as well, but hearing him articulate it gave it a sense of finality.

  “I’ll be by later to check on you and help you back into bed. Don’t overdo it, okay?”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Caitlin,” he said quietly, still looking out the window. “I’m sure you don’t when you’re out of this building.”

  If only you knew, Caitlin thought. But she wisely said nothing and left.

  The evening moved along with painful slowness. Once visiting hours were over a quiet settled onto the ward. Danielle managed to convince Simon to sit in a chair.

  Caitlin had checked on the patients after all the visitors had left. Some were sleeping, some were reading.

  Simon now sat in his chair, reading, as well.

  Caitlin walked closer, her pulse quickening as he looked up at her.

  “You should let me help you back into bed,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “I’ve spent too much time in that bed already,” he said, looking down again at the book on his lap. With a start Caitlin recognized the Bible from his bedside table.

  She wanted to say something, to acknowledge what he read, but she felt suddenly tongue-tied and self-conscious.

  But he didn’t seem to be so afflicted. “So what is it about this book?” he asked, turning a page and looking up at her. “Why am I reading it so much?”
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  Caitlin took a casual step nearer, encouraged by his questions, the change in his attitude. She wished she could figure him out. “What are you reading?”

  Simon looked up with a wry grin. “Isaiah.”

  “Why did you choose that book?” she asked, surprised. Most people looking for encouragement chose the Psalms.

  Simon gave a careful shrug. “I’ve been going through a bunch of them. Did some of the Psalms, but this fit.”

  “Fit what?”

  “My life.” He ran one finger along the gilt edge of the pages, a frown pulling his dark eyebrows together in a scowl. “You know, the wayward, stubborn people.”

  “But Isaiah holds out hope, as well,” Caitlin said. “That was the whole purpose of all of the prophets. To point toward the hope of the Messiah, the hope of reconciliation with God.”

  “The only reconciliation I do is at year end.” Simon tilted his head up to her, still frowning. “Did you learn everything you know from Sunday school?”

  “Amongst other things.” Caitlin recalled the different Bible studies and classes she had attended. “I didn’t always enjoy them, but now that I’m older I appreciate the tremendous heritage and wealth of Bible knowledge I’ve been given by my parents and teachers.”

  “I went when I was younger,” Simon said. “Used to like it.”

  “Used to...” Caitlin prompted. Simon gave out so little of his past, every bit he handed out made him more real, more accessible.

  “Just used to,” he said with finality, closing the Bible. Caitlin heard the weariness in his voice.

  She knew he would say nothing more tonight so she reverted back to her own job. “According to the physiotherapist, you spent the requisite amount of time sitting. You don’t want to overdo it.”

  “I’ll be okay.” He shifted his weight and grimaced. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to be alone,” he said without looking up. He was pushing her away again, she realized with dismay. He had shown her too much.

  “Buzz someone when you want to get back into bed,” she said softly, hesitating a moment yet. But Simon said nothing and she left.

  Chapter Nine

  As Caitlin looked over the inventory in the supply room, she couldn’t keep the picture of Simon as he sat in his chair reading the Bible out of her mind. She wondered if he gained any comfort from it, if it made him think. What was he seeking there?

  She knew he wouldn’t ask. She knew Simon well enough by now to know that, to him, asking was a sign of weakness.

  When she was done she glanced at her watch. This was crazy. It didn’t matter anymore what he wanted to prove, she had to get him back into bed.

  As she passed the desk, she dropped the inventory sheet off and kept walking to Simon’s room.

  His light was still on and as she came around the curtain dividing the two beds it was to see him staring out the window. The Bible no longer lay on his lap.

  He turned his head when she came in and this time, instead of indifference, she saw sorrow.

  “How are you doing, Simon?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  “I’d like to get back into bed now.”

  “I’ll call Danielle to help.”

  “No. I got out by myself. I could probably get back in by myself...” His words drifted off and Caitlin wondered what he was going to say. But he kept silent.

  “But you’re tired now.”

  He simply nodded and Caitlin took it for acquiescence. “Just put your arm around my shoulder and lean on me when you stand up.” Caitlin approached the chair, bending at her knees to take up a position right beside him. Simon laid his arm across her shoulder. “Lean on me and on three we’ll stand up.” She counted and Simon slowly got up as she straightened. She put her other arm around him, trying to ignore the strength of his muscles and the warmth of his torso through his pajamas, the thin hospital gown. “Now take a few short steps backward to your bed.”

  Simon didn’t move and Caitlin looked up at him, puzzled.

  His dark eyes glittered down at her and as she watched, he shifted his weight to his good leg, turning to face her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless as, for the first time since she met him, she looked up at him. She had to tilt her head back to do so.

  “Something I’ve been wondering about for too long.” His other arm came around her waist to hold her close to him and then, as Caitlin watched, mesmerized, he lowered his head. In a last, futile effort to keep her sanity, she kept her eyes open when his mouth touched hers. Then as his lips moved softly, gently, she felt her eyes drift closed, all coherent thought fled. There was only him, and the strength and warmth of his arms, his mouth on hers.

  He was the first to draw away, resting his forehead against hers as he drew in a ragged breath. “What are you doing to me, angel?”

  Caitlin felt as if all her breath had slowly been pressed out of her chest. She tried to take a breath, tried to force herself to move, but all she wanted was to be held by Simon, to stay in this place where time had ceased to exist, where she was no longer a nurse and he no longer a patient.

  “I used to know what I wanted,” he said, his breath teasing her hair as he touched his lips to her temple. “I thought I didn’t need anything. Now you’ve got me all mixed up, reading the Bible, finding out what a scoundrel I really am....” He kissed her hair, a light touch of his mouth.

  Caitlin heard his words, felt a surge of hope at his doubts. But her practical nature took over and she carefully drew back. “You have to let me go, Simon,” she whispered.

  His chest lifted in a sigh and he pressed her head in the lee of his neck. “No. I don’t want to.”

  “Please, Simon.” She didn’t dare shift her weight for fear he’d fall. She wished she had asked Danielle to help.

  He raised his head, as he let one arm drop to his side. The other still lay heavily across her shoulder. For a moment they stood, facing each other, unasked questions keeping her from taking that small step closer to him to lessen the distance.

  Why did you do that? What do I mean to you? What am I doing? The questions tripped over themselves with no answer coming.

  He was all wrong for her. He was a dangerous unknown, a lost, lonely soul.

  “Caitlin, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she lied, ignoring the tripping of her heart, the breath that refused to return to her lungs. She resisted the urge to run away, to flee.

  He shook his head as he reached for her, sliding one rough finger down her cheek. “How do you manage to turn your emotions off so quickly?” he asked, tilting his head to one side to look at her.

  “Simon, please. It’s late, and you need to get back into bed.”

  “I’m safer there, aren’t I, Caitlin? I can’t reach you there.”

  She didn’t want to listen, to know he was partially right. She didn’t want to admit that he frightened her.

  “Once I’m lying down you’re in charge,” he continued. “You can keep me at a distance. You can fool yourself into thinking just like I’ve tried to do that what’s happening between us will simply go away once you leave this hospital and you can go back to Charles.” As he took a step nearer he swayed slightly and Caitlin instinctively reached out to catch him.

  Once again his arms were around her. Once again his mouth sought hers. As they met, he stifled her cry of protest. He held her tight against him, his arms strong, protective, his mouth insistent. He pulled away, a grin lifting the corner of his mouth. His expression was triumphant.

  She didn’t like the look on his face and forced his arms down. “Stop it, now. I don’t care what you think, I don’t care how you see me. This is wrong, and you can’t make it right just by force of your will.” She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to ackno
wledge the emotional hold he had over her. “What’s happening between us is nothing new. Once you’re gone, you’ll forget all about me and the same will happen to me.”

  “And you can go back to Charles?” he said with a sneer.

  Caitlin’s heart flipped but she forced herself to concentrate, to remind herself that he was her patient, that she had a job to do. “My personal life is none of your concern.” She drew in a slow breath as she prayed for equilibrium, for strength, for wisdom. “And now, I’m going to ask you once again to let me help you back into bed.”

  Simon stayed where he was, as if measuring her strength, then with a shrug, turned.

  “Wait a minute, Simon,” she warned.

  But he moved too quickly. He didn’t get his injured leg around soon enough to bear the weight. He threw out his arms just as Caitlin rushed forward.

  Simon let out a harsh, loud cry as his leg twisted. She caught him, but his momentum combined with his weight was too much for her to hold up.

  Caitlin managed to turn him so that he fell on top of her instead of the floor. She felt her breath leave her as they landed with a crash.

  Stars and electrical impulses shot through her head, followed by a jolt of pain. Above her, Simon cried out again and she could do nothing. He was a dead weight.

  She heard the squeak of rubber-soled shoes as thankfully, someone rushed into the room.

  “What happened?” Caitlin heard Danielle’s voice and then Simon was carefully rolled off of her.

  “He moved too quickly,” Caitlin said, her voice groggy with pain. “Then he fell. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “Simon, Simon can you hear me?” Danielle was crouched over Simon’s inert body, checking him over.

  “Where’s Caitlin?” he called out, his eyes shut against the agony Caitlin knew must be coursing through his body. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m okay,” she said. She could get up, but her head was spinning and she couldn’t seem to focus on what was happening.

  “What about you, Simon? How’s your leg?”