A Christmas to Remember

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Hello, Lillian. I hope I’m not too early?” He glanced at his gold watch.

  “No, you’re right on time.”

  “Good. These flowers are for you.” He handed her a bouquet. “And these are for your mother.”

  Lillian was too nervous to think about flowers and set them aside on the library table.

  “Do you have your ring?” Oliver picked up her hand and looked at her blank finger.

  She nodded. “Right here, in my pocket.”

  “I think you should be wearing it.”

  “You’re right. I should.” Lillian took out the diamond ring Oliver had given her and slipped it on her finger.

  He watched as she did it, then met her eyes and smiled. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  Lillian glanced at the door. She heard her family coming. “I need to warn you. My father is very—”

  Her father burst into the room, his glance searing as he took in Lillian and Oliver, standing close together, talking quietly. Intimately. He couldn’t have looked any more shocked or disdainful if he had found them kissing, she thought.

  She quickly stepped to one side of Oliver, but he reached out and lightly touched her arm, giving her a moment of courage.

  “Hello, sir. I’m Oliver Warwick. You must be Lillian’s father.” Oliver stepped forward and held out his hand.

  Albert Merchant stared at his hand but didn’t take it.

  “What the devil do you think you’re doing here? Didn’t I make myself perfectly clear in our last conversation? Do you want me to have you removed by the police? Or will you go willingly?”

  Oliver squared his shoulders, still wearing a small smile.

  “The situation has changed since our last conversation, Mr. Merchant. I don’t think there’s any need to call the police, sir.” He was speaking in a very dignified way, Lillian thought. Not like a nervous twit, shaking in his boots, but not arrogant and disrespectful of her father, either.

  “I hope you will hear me out, Mr. Merchant. What I have to say is very important. In fact, it’s crucial to your daughter’s future happiness.”

  “There’s nothing you’d have to say that would be important to me, young man,” her father shouted.

  Lillian saw her mother creep forward from the doorway and tug on her father’s sleeve. “Let him speak, Albert. I want to know what’s going on here.”

  “Very well,” her father said reluctantly. “What is all this about? Do you want permission to see Lillian? Well, we won’t allow that. I thought I made that clear to you weeks ago.”

  Oliver smiled calmly. “I want permission to marry her, sir.” He looked down at Lillian and took her hand. “Lillian has accepted my proposal. We’re engaged.”

  Lillian looked back at her parents’ pale, shocked faces. Her mother put her hand to her throat and sat down heavily in a chair. Her father’s face turned beet red, his eyes bulging.

  “Engaged? You can’t be engaged! That’s impossible.”

  Oliver’s expression grew serious. Lillian could sense him digging in, holding his ground. He wasn’t the least bit cowed by her father’s temper. She could see that underneath Oliver’s casual, breezy attitude, there really was a steely backbone.

  “We are, sir. I’ve given her a ring and she’s accepted.” He turned to Lillian, who held out her hand. Her father took a step forward and stared at the diamond.

  Lawrence gaped over his shoulder. “Wow, that’s some rock!”

  “Lawrence! Behave yourself,” her mother scolded. She was sniffling quietly into a handkerchief.

  “So I see. A ring. So what? That doesn’t mean anything,” her father scoffed. “Lillian will just have to give it back to you. I suppose you two have been sneaking around behind our backs, lying to us all this time and betraying our trust. Haven’t you, Lillian?” he shouted.

  Lillian shivered and Oliver put his arm around her shoulder. “You left us little choice, sir, considering your attitude toward me, sight unseen. You’ve listened to a lot of rumors and hearsay. I’m not the man you seem to think I am.

  “All I ask is the chance to prove that I’m worthy of your daughter. We can have a long engagement, as long as you like. I can give Lillian a good life, everything she’s ever hoped for. If love counts for anything, she’ll never find a man who could love her more than I do.”

  Lillian’s eyes were locked on her father. Was he swayed at all by Oliver’s plea?

  “We want your blessing, Father,” she spoke up. “We want both of your blessings,” she added, looking over at her mother.

  “Oh, Lillian! How could you do this to us?” Her mother was sobbing, covering her face with her hands.

  “Over my dead body!” her father declared. “I’ve asked around about you, Warwick. I know all about you, and fine words can’t change what you are and always will be. We may not be as wealthy as your family, young man, but we’re decent people. I’m sure that you tricked poor Lillian into this secret romance—tricked and seduced her with your lies. She’s a respectable young woman and will not be dragged into the gutter by the likes of you, a divorced, debauched…scoundrel!”

  Her father moved toward Oliver, looking like he might deck him. Lillian stepped between them. “Dad, I love him. We want to be married.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! What do you know about love?” Her mother stepped up alongside her. “Come with me.” She tugged on Lillian’s arm, pulling her away from Oliver and toward the door. “Let your father handle this. And give back that ring!”

  Her mother grabbed Lillian’s hand and tried to pry the ring off her finger, but Lillian snatched her hand away.

  “Lillian, are you all right?” Oliver started to follow her, but as he walked across the room she saw her father and Lawrence grab him on either side and hold him back.

  “Take Lillian upstairs, Ruth. We’ll show Mr. Warwick to the door.”

  Lillian glanced over her shoulder as her mother pushed her out of the room, taking one last glimpse of Oliver, his wide, startled eyes and sad expression.

  “All right, just don’t hurt her,” she heard Oliver say to her father and brother.

  She stopped fighting. They had lost. She let her mother lead her up the stairs toward her bedroom. Beth followed slowly behind, sad and silent.

  When they reached Lillian’s bedroom, her mother practically shoved her inside. “Go on, get in there. I can’t bear to look at you. Your father and I will come and speak to you when we’re ready.”

  Lillian threw herself on her bed, muffling her sobs in her pillow. She felt as if she could cry for hours, until she was empty and hollow inside. There seemed no hope for her, nothing to live for, no reason to take another breath.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there when she felt a hand gently stroke her hair. “Poor Lily,” Beth said. She knelt down beside the bed and Lillian turned to look at her. “So that was Oliver,” she whispered.

  “Yes, that was him all right.”

  “I thought he was wonderful—the way he stood up to Father and said how much he loves you. And he’s so handsome.”

  He had been wonderful, Lillian thought, but it hadn’t helped. “Oh, Beth, everything seems worse now than it did before.” Lillian felt more tears welling up. “They’ll never let me marry him. They won’t even hear him out.”

  Beth stroked Lillian’s hair again. “You can’t give up now, not if you really love each other. That’s the most important thing.”

  Lillian met her sister’s gaze. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  Her parents’ recriminations and anger hurt her deeply, but that was nothing compared to the heartbreaking despair she felt at the idea of never seeing Oliver again.

  Beth gazed down at Lillian’s hand as it rested on the blanket. “Is that a real diamond?” she asked quietly. “I’ve never seen one that large. His family must be very rich.”

  “Would you like to try it on?”

  “Oh, can I?” Beth sat up quick
ly.

  Lillian slipped the ring off her finger and slipped it on to Beth’s hand. “It’s so beautiful,” Beth breathed. “It really sparkles.” She twisted her wrist, letting the gem catch the light. “It’s as if he’s given you all these rainbows.”

  “It’s a very high-quality stone,” Lillian said, touched by her sister’s reaction. Rainbows, indeed.

  Beth took the ring off and handed it back to her. “It suits you, Lily. You sparkle when you’re with Oliver. I never saw you like that before. You probably don’t realize it, but you do.”

  Lillian smiled at her. “Thank you, Beth. You’re right, I had no idea.”

  She did feel different at Oliver’s side. Was that because she was sparkling?

  “That’s what it’s all about, don’t you think?” Beth asked.

  “Maybe.” Lillian gazed down at the ring then back up at her sister. “What would I do without you, Beth?”

  Her sister shrugged. “Oh, you would get along. Once you marry Oliver, you won’t even think about me.”

  “Of course I will. I’ll always want to spend time with you, no matter who I marry.” Lillian smiled bleakly.

  If she ever married Oliver, she would be forced to give up a lot of things. She would be forced to make some very big choices.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Southport Hospital, December, Present-day

  THE FLOOR WAS VERY BUSY WHEN LUCY ARRIVED ON FRIDAY morning. She was late, as usual, and rushed to catch up with her supervisor and the other students who were on morning rounds.

  Lucy had not been to the hospital since Wednesday, and there were several new patients on the floor. That meant she had to read their charts and quickly learn what was going on with each one and what kind of care they required.

  She found Margaret in a room with two patients, behind the drawn curtain that surrounded the bed near the window. From what Lucy could tell, the woman was recovering from abdominal surgery, and Margaret and another student nurse were checking the incision.

  Finally Margaret pulled the curtain back and saw Lucy. “We’ve got our hands full this morning.” She indicated the patient in the other bed, who was watching TV. “I need you to give Mrs. Geiger a bed bath, Bates. Then she needs to get out of bed and do some walking in the hall.”

  Mrs. Geiger looked alarmed. “I can’t walk around. I just had surgery. I need to rest.”

  “A stent, laproscopic,” Margaret said to Lucy, indicating that the woman had surgery to open an artery in her heart, but the surgeon had performed the procedure through a very small incision.

  “It’s better if you can get up and move around a little,” Lucy said to the patient quietly. “You can go home sooner. If you lie in bed, you could wind up with complications like bedsores or pneumonia.”

  “Pneumonia?” The woman sat up, looking much more energetic. “I don’t need that.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Lucy said kindly. “Let me get you cleaned up and I’ll change your gown. And then we’ll take a little stroll.”

  The woman smiled at her. “All right. I’ll try.”

  Margaret watched as Lucy prepared the bed bath. Then another student nurse came in. She looked worried and the rubber gloves she wore had blood stains on them. That didn’t look right, Lucy thought.

  “I’ll be right back, Bates. Keep going,” Margaret said as she went to help the other student.

  Lucy nodded and kept going with the bed bath. “I’m not scrubbing too hard for you, am I?” she asked, remembering her last complaint.

  “Not at all. Feels good. I’m covered with that iodine stuff on my chest, see?” Mrs. Geiger pointed to the orange-brown stain that showed around her bandage. “That comes off, right?”

  “Of course it does. You can probably take a shower tomorrow. This is just a quick clean up.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. My daughter and my grandchildren are coming this afternoon. I don’t want to scare the kids.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll look just fine for them,” Lucy promised.

  She knew she would be wildly busy today but made a mental note to come back later and see if Mrs. Geiger needed some help fixing her hair or putting on some makeup. It seemed silly and superficial, but when a patient felt as if they looked more like their “normal” self, they tended to feel better faster.

  Mrs. Geiger was soon washed and wearing a clean gown. Lucy wondered if she should wait for Margaret to return before getting the patient out of bed. Margaret was really supposed to be watching everything the students did but, of course, she couldn’t be in six places at once.

  Lucy took a look around the bed and cleared some garbage off the bedside table. She noticed two IV bags hanging from the pole. One was very low and needed changing. She checked Mrs. Geiger’s chart. She was a diabetic and taking insulin and also electrolytes for her heart condition.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lucy said. “I need to find my supervisor, then we’ll get you up.”

  Mrs. Geiger nodded and turned on her TV again, flipping through the channels. Lucy soon found Margaret a few doors down. Another student had been changing a bandage and a few of the stitches on the incision had come out. Not a grave matter, but the doctor had to be called, and Margaret and the student were with the patient, applying pressure to the wound while they waited for him.

  Margaret glanced up at Lucy. “What is it, Bates?”

  “Mrs. Geiger is ready to get out of bed. And her IV is very low,” Lucy added.

  “All right. I’ll be right in.”

  Lucy nodded. She had noticed fresh IV bags left by the bed, so she went back to the room.

  Margaret came in and gave Lucy an impatient look. “Can you do this quickly, or should I?”

  “I can do it,” Lucy said. She picked up the IV bag and made sure it was the insulin and not electrolytes, which were not needed yet. She attached the fresh bag, then checked the doctor’s orders for the rate of the flow. She checked the meter on the line and then looked over the catheter on Mrs. Geiger’s arm.

  Margaret watched impatiently. “Yes, yes. That looks fine. All right, get her up carefully. First the chair, then see if she can do a few laps in the hallway.”

  “A few laps, that’s a good one.” Mrs. Geiger looked at Lucy and rolled her eyes. Lucy helped her over to the chair, and her supervisor disappeared.

  Lucy cleaned up from the bed bath. One sheet felt wet, and she went to the linen closet to get a fresh one and a dry blanket.

  When she returned she found Mrs. Geiger slumped over in her chair, her head on her chest. Lucy ran over to her, her own pulse racing. “Mrs. Geiger? What’s wrong?”

  Lucy leaned over and lifted her chin. Mrs. Geiger’s mouth hung open and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Oh no! Oh my…” She reached over and hit a button by the bed, signaling a patient emergency.

  Within seconds doctors and nurses came running into the room, instantly followed by a huge medical cart. Jack was one of the doctors. Lucy was grateful to see him…and mortified.

  He bent over and quickly examined Mrs. Geiger then looked at the IV bags and the meter on the line. Then he pulled the line out of the catheter. “Get her on the bed. She’s gone into shock.”

  Margaret came up beside Lucy. “Wait outside, Bates. At my desk.”

  Lucy nodded. She felt the tears fill her eyes as she walked out into the hallway. She was such a screw up. Whatever made her think she could be a nurse?

  She waited at Margaret’s desk for what seemed like an hour, though when she looked at her watch she realized only ten minutes had passed.

  Lucy wanted to leave—just walk out the door and keep going. But first she had to find out what had happened to Mrs. Geiger.

  Please, God. Please let her be okay. Please don’t let her die. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened….

  At last Margaret emerged from Mrs. Geiger’s room. “Over here, Bates,” she said, steering Lucy to a quiet corner of the nurses’ station.

  “Did
she come out of it? Is she going to be all right?” Lucy asked anxiously.

  “She’s come around. We caught her just in time.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Lucy felt so relieved, she thought she was going to collapse. She looked up at her supervisor. “What happened? What did I do to her?”

  “The insulin drip, didn’t you check the doctor’s orders? I saw you reading the chart.”

  “I set it to ninety, exactly as it said.”

  “It said forty, Lucy. You must have read the order wrong.” Margaret rubbed the back her neck wearily. “I should have checked, but I thought you could read a chart by now.”

  Lucy took a breath, fighting hard not to cry. “I did read the chart. It said ninety, as clear as day…well, as clear as I could see. I can’t help it if these doctors have such horrible handwriting!”

  Now she was crying and shouting at her supervisor. Margaret touched Lucy’s arm. “Calm down, Lucy. It’s over. The patient will be okay. I might get carpal tunnel from all the paperwork I’ll have to do to report this, but she’ll be fine.”

  Lucy thought of poor Mrs. Geiger, how she had pulled through her heart surgery so well and was looking forward to seeing her grandchildren today.

  Meanwhile, I come along and nearly kill her.

  Lucy wiped the tears from her cheeks. Thank you, God, for letting her survive. Don’t worry, I’m taking the hint. I’m not going to push my luck any further.

  “Lucy, why don’t you take a break and compose yourself?” Margaret suggested.

  Lucy shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore. It’s just not working out for me.”

  She pulled away and started walking quickly toward the elevators.

  “Lucy? Where are you going?” Margaret called after her.

  Lucy turned and looked at her briefly over her shoulder. “Back to the diner. I didn’t quit my day job.”