Cupid's Christmas

by Bette Lee Crosby

  That evening six victims of the accident were delivered to the Emergency Room of Jefferson University Hospital—the elderly couple suffering cuts and lacerations, the teenage boy with a dislocated shoulder and broken arm, the sales clerk who’d been pinned behind the car, Lindsay and Eleanor. The driver died before the officers could extricate him from the car and the young girl who’d been walking two steps in front of Lindsay was killed instantly. Both of those bodies were taken directly to the morgue.

  As soon as Gavin rolled the gurney through the Emergency Room door, Lindsay started asking him to check on Eleanor and call her father. When he said he’d have to get her admitted first, she threatened to get up and find out for herself.

  “You can’t do that!” Gavin said. He then wheeled the gurney into the hallway, situated it to one side, and trudged off to find out about Eleanor.

  After three inquiries, he learned that Eleanor had been transported to the Radiology Department on the lower level and apparently considered in serious condition. Sydney Harper, a nurse who was dating Doctor Brinkley, and had the inside scoop on everything, whispered, “Jack thinks her back may be broken.” Jack, of course, was Doctor Brinkley the ER Attending.

  “I can’t tell her that,” Gavin moaned.

  An expert at easing the concerns of worried families, Sydney replied, “Just say she’s gone for a CT scan.”

  Gavin settled for doing that. When Lindsay replied, “You mean they don’t they know anything?” he simply shrugged. She then rattled off their home telephone number and asked him to call her father—“John,” she said, “John Gray.”

  Gavin returned to the lobby and used the telephone at the admitting desk. He punched in the number—it rang once then stopped. He tried again, same thing. After the third try, he returned to the hallway where he’d parked Lindsay. “Are you sure this is the right number?” he read back the number she’d given him.

  “Yes, that‘s it.”

  “Strange,” he said, “must be trouble on the line.”

  “Trouble?”

  He nodded, “I get one ring then it goes dead…”

  Lindsay realized what was happening. “Oh my God, the calls are still being forwarded to my cell phone. You have to find my cell phone…please…go back, look for it…”

  “I can’t do it right now,” Gavin said apologetically, “but give me your home address and I’ll get a patrol car to drive out and inform your dad.”

  “Seven-six-seven Oak Tree road in Medford.”

  Gavin jotted the address down then brought the Gurney back to the admitting area and began filling out the necessary paperwork. When the orderlies rolled Lindsay into the small examining room she called back to Gavin, “Don’t forget.”

  Cupid…The News

  When John returned home from the game, the house was empty, so he showered and dressed for dinner. After a full day of shopping, he figured Eleanor would most likely be tired and in no mood for cooking, besides he was anxious to try that new steak house on Route 70. Thinking about the steak smothered in onion rings with a buttery baked potato sitting beside it, he grew hungrier by the minute. John waited until shortly after six, and then began calling Lindsay’s cell phone. He clicked call #3 but nothing happened. No ring, nothing. He tried again—still nothing, so he punched in the number manually. Still nothing. “Son-of-a-gun,” he grumbled. “She’s turned the phone off because they’re busy shopping.”

  He’d called the number a dozen times before the doorbell rang at seven o’clock. John hurried to the door and yanked it open expecting to see Eleanor and Lindsay too overloaded with packages to come through the garage—instead, he found Matthew standing there.

  “Is Lindsay ready?” Matthew asked.

  “They’re not back from shopping yet.” The agitation in John’s voice was obvious.

  “Really?” Matthew pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through the messages. “That’s odd,” he said. “She didn’t leave a message.”

  “Because they’re busy shopping,” John griped. “Looks like she’d have called if—”

  “Lindsay would have called,” Matthew cut in. “She knew I was picking her up at seven.”

  “Maybe they’re caught in traffic…”

  “Lindsay would’ve called,” Matthew repeated.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive!” The look on Matthew’s face indicated something was wrong.

  John’s expression quickly changed from one of annoyance to one of concern. He began picturing a five car pileup on the bridge. “Let’s check the news,” he suggested.

  Matthew agreed although he thought it more likely Lindsay had misplaced or lost her cell phone, perhaps allowed it to fall from her pocket as she walked through the department store. A lost phone and traffic jam combined would make sense, it would explain why—

  They were both standing in front of the television waiting for a commercial to end when the doorbell rang. “That must be them,” John said happily, but the downturn of Matthew’s mouth didn’t change.

  When John opened the door, the sight of a uniformed Police Officer was not what he expected. “Apparently there’s something wrong with your telephone,” the officer said. “Your daughter has been trying to call but couldn’t get through. She asked—”

  “Is Lindsay alright?”

  “There’s been an accident but your daughter is going to be okay. According to the paramedic I spoke with she has a broken leg, but other than that—”

  “What about Eleanor?”

  “Eleanor? The paramedic didn’t mention an Eleanor.”

  Standing right behind John, Matthew asked, “Where are they?”

  “They? The only one I know about is Lindsay Gray. She’s in the Emergency Room at Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia. It’s downtown—”

  “I know where it is,” Matthew said, and by then he had his jacket on and was pulling the car keys from his pocket.

  In thirty minutes, they made the drive that normally took double the time. Before Matthew parked the car, John jumped out and barreled into the Emergency Room. “Do you have an Eleanor Barrow here?” he asked the nurse at the Admissions counter.

  “I’m on the phone sir,” she answered. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Less than a minute later, Matthew rushed in and asked, “Did you find out anything yet?”

  John shook his head and glared impatiently at the nurse who was still talking.

  When the nurse finally hung up the phone, she turned to them and asked, “Okay, now what was that name?”

  “Eleanor Barrow,” John said.

  “Lindsay Gray,” Matthew added.

  “Only family is allowed in the Exam Rooms, are you—”

  Before she finished the question both men answered, “Yes.”

  Okay then.” The nurse’s finger moved slowly down a list of names, “Ah, here they are,” she said. “Lindsay Gray is in Exam Room Seven.” She pointed a finger down the hallway. “And it looks like Eleanor Barrow is still in Radiology. When they bring her back, she’ll be in Room Eight, you can wait there if you’d like.”

  The two men walked the long hallway together and when they arrived at Room Seven, John went in with Matthew. Lindsay was groggy, but awake. She began to explain most of what had happened. “…the car…almost dark…no headlights…Eleanor shoved me out of the way…but…”

  “Did you actually see the car hit her?” John asked. His words had the weariness of someone trying to tread water in an ocean of tears. “Do you think there’s any chance…”

  While Matthew stood by Lindsay’s bedside, John lowered himself into a chair in the far corner of the room, and allowed his head to drop into the cradle of his hands. Although his sobs were silent, his shoulders shook as violently as the earth does when a crater opens up.

  Doctor Ramon Shameer was not only the hospital’s Chief of Orthopedic Surgery, he was also an expert diagnostician and to date he had never been wrong. When Eleanor Barr
ow was rolled into the Emergency Room, he knew without question she had a broken back along with the obvious cuts and lacerations on her face and hands. But protocol is protocol, so the still unconscious woman was taken to Radiology for a CT scan to confirm what Doctor Shameer already knew.

  Eleanor was carefully transferred from the gurney to the scanner bed then Willa, a nurse technician who’d been doing this for nine years, moved to the adjoining room and began the test. Although the woman was still unconscious, Willa followed the same procedure she’d always used. Once the scanner bed began its slide into the tunnel, Willa’s voice echoed through the speakers. “We are now going to begin the test,” she said. “You will hear whirring and clicking sounds but please remain still. If you feel claustrophobic, or need help, let me know by speaking. Do not attempt to move or get up.”

  The whirring began and with each click, the scanner bed inched its way back out of the tunnel, but what appeared on Willa’s screen was not what she expected. “Something‘s wrong,” she grumbled and ran the test a second time. When the result was the same, she paged Doctor Shameer to Radiology.

  He eyed the results. “You’ve made a mistake somewhere,” he said, “run the test again.” This time he stood alongside of her as she did. The scanner bed was halfway through the tunnel when Eleanor blinked her eyes, saw the rings of red light circling her and said, “Where am I?”

  “You’re in Radiology,” the speaker voice answered. “Please remain still, I’ll be right in.”

  Seconds later both Nurse Willa and Doctor Shameer entered the room.

  “You’re awake,” he said, stating the obvious.

  “Yes,” Eleanor replied, “and I want to get up.” With the scanner bed out of the tunnel, she could sit up, but when she made a move to do so, Doctor Shameer pounced on her. “You can’t move,” he said. “Your back is broken.”

  Nurse Willa said nothing because she’d already seen the first two scans.

  Eleanor eyed them with a strange expression. “There’s nothing wrong with my back,” she said. “I feel fine. My knee’s a bit sore but other than that…”

  Doctor Shameer’s mouth dropped open. “Impossible!” he stammered. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

  “Of course,” Eleanor wiggled the toes on both feet. Before she left the CT scan room Doctor Shameer had her do any number of things to prove in fact her back was not broken. And only after a lengthy series of CT scans and X-rays, did he concede that she did not have a single broken bone in her entire body.

  After nearly three hours, Eleanor was returned to Emergency Exam Room Eight, and Doctor Shameer headed off to the records room to re-check every diagnosis he’d ever made. Two days later he took a leave of absence, claiming such a mistake had to have been caused by overwork.

  I feel a bit guilty about sabotaging Doctor Shameer’s career as I did, but it all worked out for the best. Looking ahead, I can tell you he’ll take Midu on that vacation he’s been promising her for the past ten years. And, on moonlit night in Fiji when the romance in the air is thicker than the humidity, they’ll create a baby girl who will one day be the world’s leading heart surgeon.

  Had I not acted as I did, I can say for certain six lives would have been destroyed. Eleanor would have spent the remainder of her years in a wheelchair. Believing herself to be a burden, she would have refused to marry John and she would have settled for having Ray live with her.

  Filled with the remorse of guilt, Ray would have become unbearable. He and Traci would have long-running arguments and in the end she’d have filed for a divorce claiming that Ray was impossible to live with.

  And Lindsay, ah yes, hers would have been the saddest story of all. Had Eleanor not come to love the girl as she had, Lindsay would have been crushed beneath the automobile. Instead of being rescued, her dog would be killed by an eighteen-wheeler on the Interstate. And Matthew, unable to forget the love of his life, would have taken to drink and closed the doors to the Kindness Animal Clinic less than a year later.

  When I look ahead at how things might have been, I know I’ve done the right thing.

  So far there’s been no repercussion from The Boss. I’m thinking He probably agrees with what I did. Hopefully, He’ll give Life Management an earful about being a bit more flexible in the future. I’d like nothing more than to hear him tell those guys Love conquers all, but I guess that’s asking for too much.

  Cupid…The Prodigal Son

  We both know why Eleanor had nothing more than a few cuts and bruises but Doctor Shameer, still brooding over his inaccurate diagnosis, insisted she and Lindsay remain in the hospital overnight.

  “There’s no need,” Eleanor argued.

  Doctor Shameer remained adamant. “Possible concussion,” he said, “and I’m thinking that perhaps we should check your spine again tomorrow.”

  With Thanksgiving only four days off, I knew Eleanor was anxious to get home—I could see her counting up the things that were yet to be done. While Doctor Shameer was looking for an injured spine, Eleanor was wondering where she might find candles in the pumpkin color that would match her tablecloth. After several minutes of going back and forth on the issue, the good doctor said he’d arrange for her and Lindsay to be in the same room, and Eleanor finally gave in—not because she felt she needed further care, but because she was concerned about Lindsay. Despite the rocky start their relationship had begun with, Eleanor had come to think of Lindsay as the daughter she’d never had. And even though Lindsay was the spitting image of Bethany, Eleanor could at times see pieces of herself in the girl.

  It was almost nine when they finally settled in the room. After Matthew pulled the curtain between the two beds partway closed, he leaned close to Lindsay and whispered how such a scare had made him realize that he couldn’t live without her. Careful not to bump up against the bruised side of her face, he put his mouth to hers and kissed her in a way she’d never before been kissed—not hard or hungry or passionate, but so gentle that it was like a silken promise landing on her lips. Lindsay’s heartbeat spiked from 82 to 147, and when the monitor began beeping the nurse hurried in to check on her.

  With the curtain hiding them from one another John seized the same opportunity, although it was in a somewhat less romantic way. He bent over and snuggled his cheek next to Eleanor’s. “That’s it,” he whispered. “I don’t care who likes it and who doesn’t—we’re getting married right away. I could’ve lost you…”

  Eleanor smiled, but behind her smile was the pain of remembering the last conversation with Ray. Being loved in such a way brought great happiness and yet…“We can’t just take our happiness and cause misery to others,” she said sadly, “let’s wait until I can work things out with Ray. He’ll come around. I know he will, sooner…or later.” Eleanor knew it would probably be later—much later. Maybe never.

  “I think we’ve waited long enough,” John answered. “After you’ve told Ray what we’ve decided to do, he’ll have no further argument. If he still can’t accept the truth of how we feel, then I’m ready to go ahead without him.”

  “Be patient,” she said, and turned her mouth to his.

  Once John was gone, Eleanor again tried calling Ray’s number. The answering machine clicked on after the third ring. “Ray, it’s Mom,” she said, “I’m in the Hospital but don’t worry, I’m okay. Call me when you can, I’ve got something important to tell you.” When she hung up the phone, Lindsay said, “You didn’t give him the hospital number.”

  “That’s okay,” Eleanor sighed. “I doubt he’d call anyway.”

  Some people never realize how treasured a thing is until it’s lost—Ray is just such a person. He argued with his father day and night, but the minute the man stopped breathing, Ray started remembering him as the most saintly man who ever lived. He then turned disagreeable with his mother. Although Eleanor did everything imaginable to coddle the boy, he criticized her every move. And, after twelve years of being a widow, when she finally found her own happiness, he becam
e outraged. But all of that was before he heard the crash, before he lost the connection on Lindsay’s cell phone, before he drove all over town looking for Eleanor, and before he came to believe that wherever she was she needed help—his help.

  After Ray tried redialing Lindsay’s cell phone number and got nothing, he waited for a good half-hour thinking she’d call back. When she didn’t, he tried calling John Gray’s number. The telephone rang once, and then the line went dead. He waited five minutes and called again. Same result. He finally got in his car and drove to Eleanor’s house. Using his key, he went inside and walked through room after room looking for her and calling out her name. He even opened closet doors and searched the basement. Nothing. From there he drove to John Gray’s house. He walked up to the front door and pushed the bell at precisely seven-twenty. There was no answer. John was already on his way to the hospital. Ray leaned on the doorbell a dozen times then he walked around back of the house and peered through a window. He could see the television flickering in the family room but other than that there was no sign of life. Reasoning that with the television on someone had to be at home, he stood there rapping his knuckles against the front door for another fifteen minutes.

  When he failed to rouse anyone at the Gray house, Ray spent two hours driving back and forth to the shops Eleanor frequented. He checked the hair salon, the supermarket, and three different gas stations. According to the clerks he spoke with, Eleanor had not been there for days. He then began knocking on doors. He tried seven of her neighbors, but no one seemed to know anything. Louise Farmer claimed she hadn’t seen Eleanor in several months and was almost certain she’d moved.