by Hope Ramsay
I said, “But we need to be at the town square at midnight.”
Mom didn’t say anything for about thirty seconds. Then she said, “We are not going to the town square.”
This made my chest feel funny. My head felt funny too. I went upstairs and found Raphael and sang “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” ten times.
At ten thirteen, Mom came in my room and said, “Put on your pajamas. I don’t want any trouble from you.”
I don’t make trouble. I don’t lie. I decided to put on my pajamas just to make her go away. I like being alone. I turned out the light. I stayed in my bed and counted seconds and minutes.
Mom opened the door fifty-seven minutes later but she didn’t say anything. I pretended to be asleep.
At eleven twenty, I got out of bed and put on my blue pants and my white shirt. The hall was dark. I went downstairs. The lights on the tree were still burning, and there was stuff in the stocking.
I got my coat and mittens and opened the door.
It was pretty warm outside so I put my mittens in my pocket. Mom doesn’t like it when I lose my mittens. I heard a siren, which made my head feel funny. I don’t like sirens. I don’t like ambulances, especially if they are red.
I walked to the town square.
I waited.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tom Crawford had a quiet Christmas Eve at home in his new one-bedroom condo. He nuked a chicken pot pie and settled in with a good book. It was lonely, but that was okay. He had an important appointment at midnight.
And not at church either. It would be odd, not going to midnight mass, but Tom had this feeling, down in his gut, that he was supposed to be at the village green at midnight. It was as if fate was pushing him in that direction. He had no doubt that Teri would be there waiting for him, even if she hadn’t called or communicated with him since he’d sent the flowers. And he truly believed that an angel might make an appearance, and who would want to miss that?
It was absurd to have such unshakable faith. But you couldn’t argue with a determined heart.
Maybe it was what folks in town said about Savannah Randall and her matchmaking advice. Maybe it was hubris, plain and simple. Maybe it was knowing that guardian angels truly did exist for some children, especially sick children and the ones with big challenges. He didn’t care. He wasn’t into analyzing this. Down where it really mattered, he just knew that Teri and Aiden would be waiting for him at midnight.
And then, at precisely eleven twenty-five, just as he was getting ready to stroll down to the village green, reality burst his bubble. His pager buzzed with the emergency code that required him to check in immediately or head to the clinic with all due haste. When this code appeared, it meant someone was battling for his or her life. Emergencies didn’t give a crap about a midnight rendezvous or potential angel encounters.
He swallowed his disappointment and checked in. The dispatcher said it was a motorcycle accident with multiple injuries to the lower extremities and potential head trauma. The EMTs were bringing the patient to the clinic to be stabilized and triaged. If the injuries were severe enough, he would be sent via LifeNet helicopter to the Level 1 trauma center in Columbia. Otherwise, the patient would be sent on to the regional medical center in Orangeburg.
Tom met the EMTs at the door of the clinic five minutes later.
“I’m Doctor Crawford. What do we have?” he asked them.
The lead EMT said, “It’s Elbert. He’s been in a motorcycle accident.”
“Elbert? Elbert Rhodes?”
“You know him?”
“Not personally. What do we have?”
“Male patient, mid-sixties. He’s got a compound fracture of the right tibia with a lot of debris in the wound. I think it’s probably a Grade III fracture. Possible concussion. Road rash on the right upper quadrant. His BP is sixty over ninety and falling. There may be internal injuries. We started a saline drip. He’s conscious, but confused.”
Annie Jasper, the on-call RN, came running through the doors and spoke with the EMT. “Matt, oh my God, I heard that Elbert got in an accident,” she said.
“I’m afraid it’s true. He was making a run to the 7-Eleven for something. A pickup ran the red light down on Route 78 and hit him. Knocked Elbert sideways. The pickup driver’s from over in Bamberg. Damian said he registered point one three percent BAC. He definitely had one too many eggnogs.”
“Have Elbert’s next of kin been notified?” Tom asked.
“Yeah. Elbert’s oldest son is the county sheriff. He’s on his way. The rest of the family is probably in church right now. Elbert isn’t much on going to church.”
The EMTs parked the gurney in the emergency triage area. Tom assessed Elbert’s injuries while Annie seamlessly took over the job of monitoring and reporting on the patient’s vital signs. His blood pressure was low and falling. His pulse was thready.
The fracture was a mess, filled with debris.
“We better call the helo from Orangeburg,” Tom said.
“Done,” said the EMT.
Tom leaned over and got right in the patient’s face. “Elbert, can you hear me?”
Elbert Rhodes opened a pair of gray eyes. His pupils looked normal and reactive. So maybe the helmet had saved him from the worst of it. Head trauma was the single most common cause of death in motorcycle accidents. The lower extremity injuries and road rash were common. But the falling BP was the most serious thing. He needed surgical help, stat.
“We’re going to get you on some pain meds and clean up and splint your leg,” he said to Elbert slowly. “And then we’re going to fly you up to Columbia. You understand?”
Elbert blinked once, and then his gaze shifted away. He seemed to be staring at something on the ceiling. Tom followed his gaze, but there was nothing to see.
“She’s here,” Elbert said.
“Who’s here, Elbert?” Annie asked.
“So pretty. Angel.” And then he lost consciousness. Annie reported another precipitous drop in his BP.
Tom went into automatic emergency mode—his medical training and several rotations in the ER kicking in. He pulled out all the stops. When the LifeNet helo took off for the trauma center in Columbia, Elbert Rhodes was still alive, and his condition, while critical, was stable. Tom believed his patient was going to make it.
* * *
Teri had checked on Aiden a little after eleven. He had been fast asleep, thank the Lord. She had expected Aiden to have a full-out meltdown over the angel issue. She was glad he’d accepted her decision not to go traipsing off to the town square on a fool’s errand.
It was better this way.
For both of them.
Now it was just before midnight and she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, besides sitting here in her bedroom feeling lonely.
Right now everyone in her family, except the youngest of children, would be at midnight services. And after church there would still be stockings to fill and toys to assemble. She’d never gone to bed before midnight on Christmas, except when she was very little.
But here she was pulling her PJs out of the drawer.
She wondered what Tom was doing right now. She imagined him waiting for them in front of the town tree, with the lights twinkling in his eyes and sparking in his hair. She wondered how long he might linger there. Would he be disappointed? Would he call tomorrow?
Damn. She was being stupid. She didn’t need a man in her life—not if he intended to encourage Aiden’s angel fantasies.
Although she had to admit that Tom wasn’t a bit like her ex. Her ex had walked out on her because he couldn’t deal with Aiden. Tom, on the other hand, had gotten on the floor to play with her boy. The night of the candle debacle, he’d stood there singing with Aiden for a good twenty minutes—until all of them were hoarse. He’d gotten Aiden to wear stripes. He’d walked with him to the Methodist churchyard three times in a week.
And then there was all the other stuff. The candles on his dinner table. The flowers. The kiss
es. And the way he’d patiently pursued her despite Aiden’s horrid behavior. Tom seemed entirely unconcerned about Aiden’s challenges.
She sat on the edge of her bed, thinking these things through. Thinking about her conversation that afternoon with Savannah Randall.
Holy God. She was an idiot.
The town matchmaker—from a line of infallible matchmakers—had stood in her flower shop this afternoon talking about Tom’s childhood like she knew all about it. But she didn’t really know about it, did she? What had Savannah said?
Something about Tom being kind because of his childhood experiences.
Yeah, kind and wise.
Tom’s childhood. Of course.
She checked her watch. Oh crap, she’d been sitting here for almost an hour debating with herself instead of seizing the opportunity that was right in front of her face. It was five minutes to midnight.
They could make it. Aiden might have to go in his PJs. She rushed into Aiden’s room.
“Wake up, kiddo, we’re going to the—”
The bed was empty. Aiden, it would appear, was way smarter than his mother. He’d left without her.
AIDEN SPEAKS
I waited for the angel for exactly twenty-three minutes. When it arrived, it scared me. Just like in the Bible verse from Luke.
A white light shone around it that was so bright I couldn’t look at it without making my eyes feel funny. I couldn’t really see because it was so bright. Looking at the angel was like looking into the sun, but I couldn’t close my eyes.
“Be not afraid,” it sang in the key of D, like a hundred voices all together in perfect harmony.
I wanted to sing too. But my head felt funny and I couldn’t remember the words to my favorite song. All I could remember were the verses from the Book of Revelation where it says that the angels fought against a dragon and slayed it. An angel this big could probably break a dragon in half. This angel was bigger than the Methodist angel. It was twenty feet tall—as tall as the town Christmas tree.
Real angels were a lot bigger than Raphael.
The angel laughed, and it was as if it were singing a chord in the key of C. “I am Raphael, little one,” he sang. Then he bent toward me, reaching out.
I couldn’t step back. I wanted to, but my feet didn’t work. I don’t like being touched, not even by an angel.
I couldn’t even move when he put his hand on my head. I waited to feel the weight of it. I waited to feel the creepy, crawly feeling that always happens when someone touches me. But Raphael’s touch didn’t feel heavy or creepy. It was like his light got all inside my head and made it feel really, really weird. But it wasn’t scary or anything like the funny feeling I get sometimes when people touch me.
And then the angel was gone.
I looked up and I looked left and I looked right, and then I looked behind me. I finally looked down.
One of Mom’s candle holders was there right in front of me. There was a white candle in it. The candle was burning.
I got ready to run away because I don’t like candles. They get inside my head and scare me. Sort of like the angel did.
Only when I looked at the candle, it was different this time.
The candle was pretty. The flame moved around, and somehow the light reminded me of the big angel. The real Raphael.
I picked up the candle. I turned around because there was a sound coming from down the street. People in the Methodist church were singing.
They were singing “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.”
And I sang with them.
CHAPTER NINE
Teri heard Aiden’s voice before she found him. His high, clear boy soprano sounded angelic in the cool, clear night. The words of the old Christmas carol were like a beacon leading her in the darkness.
It came upon a midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men
From heaven’s all gracious King!"
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
This time, though, Aiden was singing it loud and clear as if he was performing the song, instead of using it to comfort himself. She turned the corner and saw him, standing in front of the town tree holding a candle in his hand.
A candle.
Burning in the brass candle stick that she’d bought the Christmas of her senior year at college. Aiden must have taken the candlestick from the sideboard, where she’d put it out as a Christmas decoration.
This made no sense. Why would Aiden even touch that candle? Every time he passed it, he would remind her that he didn’t like candles. And how did the candle end up lighted? Did Aiden even know how to use matches or a lighter?
She wasn’t the only one heading toward the town square. At least two dozen people who had just come from midnight services were strolling up Palmetto Avenue, drawn by the beautiful, innocent sound of Aiden’s singing. And he just kept it up, in a joyful kind of way. Standing there wearing his school uniform, and his gray coat, and the striped, green-and-white elf hat that Tom had given him. And he just kept singing his favorite carol over and over again—every blessed verse.
He looked like an angel himself. Or maybe a fashion-challenged elf. Either way, he had those people smiling and nodding and thinking about the meaning of the season.
Tears sprang to Teri’s eyes. Of course she was relieved to have found him safe and sound. But she’d never doubted where she would find him. She should never have tried to keep him away from the town square.
Her tears went so much deeper. He was here, singing a carol, on Christmas. He was holding a light—a symbol of the holiday. He’d connected with Christmas. Finally.
She covered the last few yards in a jog. Her heart light. The weight on her shoulders suddenly lifted. Now she just needed to find Tom. He probably had something to do with this.
But Tom wasn’t there. Miriam, Savannah, Todd, and Dash Randall were there. Jenny and Gabe Raintree were there. Mike and Charlene Taggert were there. So were Ross and Sabina Gardiner, along with Eugene and Thelma Hanks and Nita and Zeph Gibbs. And a half dozen more. They were all watching Aiden and smiling.
A tsunami of disappointment smacked Teri sideways. Tom’s absence sucked a lot of the joy out of this moment. Had he been playing with her? Had he lost interest when she didn’t call him after he’d given her the flowers? Was he as unreliable as her ex? She tried to push all those negative thoughts back behind a steel door in her mind. They had no business being here on this night.
Of all nights.
The important thing was that Aiden had made miraculous progress tonight. He was celebrating Christmas in a meaningful way. Watching him hold a candle and sing like an angel was nothing short of an answered prayer.
* * *
Tom watched the helicopter rise and then noted the time. Midnight.
His night was not yet over. The Sheriff Department’s cruiser sat in the parking lot. He still had to brief the next of kin. And that took a lot of time.
When he’d finished, it was almost one o’clock on Christmas morning. He’d missed his romantic rendezvous.
He drove straight home, but sat in his car for a good twenty minutes feeling drained and slightly depressed. It wasn’t easy to deal with an accident like Elbert’s on Christmas. Talking to the family about the grave nature of Elbert’s injuries was a complete downer. For the Rhodes family, and for him too.
That was the thing about being a family practitioner. You got to know the people you cared for. He could have avoided this. He could have become a surgeon. But he’d known that surgery wasn’t his calling.
Dr. Massey, his mentor at Boston Medical Center, had been the one who gave him permission to follow a different course. Dr. Massey had told him that his gift lay in making connections with people.
Maybe that was true. He’d felt connected to the people here
tonight. And helping Elbert this evening made him feel better about his choices. Savannah Randall was right too. People were coming around. Mr. Bray had even called him to thank him for insisting that Lillian see a specialist.
So maybe this assignment would work out. But he still felt empty and kind of homesick. He wanted to talk to someone.
Well, not just any someone. He wanted to talk to Teri. He also wouldn’t have minded making out with her. He was in sore need of some love tonight.
He also wanted to know what had happened at the village green. Had Teri and Aiden shown up? Had the angel put in an appearance?
He hoped so. For a moment he’d felt as if the angels were there with Elbert, looking over him.
He didn’t feel like sleeping, so he fired up the engine and headed back into town. He parked a block away from the green and strolled down to the Christmas tree. The little town of Last Chance was deserted at this time of the morning, even on Christmas. The one stop light in town cycled from red to green without a car in sight.
It was practically balmy—much too warm to be Christmas, as far as Tom was concerned. He didn’t have to button up his coat as he stood at the base of the tree, basking in the glow of its lights. He hadn’t put up a tree in his condo. He stood there regretting that decision.
He’d never outgrown his childhood love of evergreens, tinsel, and twinkling lights. The tree lifted his heart a little bit. He looked up.
Something wasn’t right. Something had changed. There should have been a lighted star on the top of the town tree. But where once there had been a star, now there sat a brass angel with a silver halo and a harp of gold.
Had Teri swapped out the tree topper? Had she played Santa for Aiden?
Oh, he hoped so.
His heavy heart lightened. If Teri had played Santa for Aiden, then maybe she’d changed her mind about him. Maybe that angel up there was sending him a message.
He turned away from the tree. The walk to Teri’s house wasn’t long. In less than five minutes, he stood in her front yard. The lights in one of the upstairs rooms were still on. He thought about throwing a pebble at the window and having a Romeo moment, but decided that ringing the bell was probably a better idea.
