Christmas Miracle

by Patrice Wilton

  “What could be so terrible? You and I know our father, and he was a good, decent man.” She smiled at her sister. “Maybe it’s your hormones acting up.”

  She waved that off. “Of course he was. But war can mess with anyone’s head.”

  “True. I can’t imagine him at eighteen or nineteen, can you? Crap, look at us when we were that age. Going off to college, having a good time, dating more than we were studying. Life was a big party back then. And our dad was in the jungle, not knowing from one minute to another if it would be his last breath.” Sarah rubbed her own arms. “Damn. That just gave me chills thinking about it.”

  “I get chills too. Whatever he did or didn’t do, we’re not going to judge him, are we, Sarah?”

  “Of course not. We love him and nothing in the world will change that memory for us.”

  “Good.” Meghan lowered her voice to a whisper as she said, “Maybe we should just let it go.”

  Sarah leaned her shoulder against her sister’s. “You don’t have to do this, Meg. I can take it away with me when I move out and open it on my own. It’s stayed a secret this long; another month won’t matter.”

  “You’re not really thinking of moving away from Heaven, are you? I mean, this idea of going to Hawaii is just a vacation, right?”

  “I think so, but I can’t promise anything. I need a little time to sort it all out. No matter what, I am your sister. I will always love you and keep in touch. Imagine if I was living there, you guys could come and visit—wouldn’t that be grand?” She felt happy just thinking of it. Sandy beaches, palm trees, sweet tasting pineapple. “Maybe we could both learn to surf.”

  “Surfing with sharks? No thank you. And it wouldn’t be as grand as having you live a few blocks away so we can do Sunday dinners together and have a real family again.”

  Sarah felt a twinge of guilt. If she had an abortion in Hawaii, Meghan would never need to know. She could take that secret to the grave. Just as her dad had done with his.

  When Byron came back into the room, the conversation turned to the Christmas movie they’d seen today, and the Italian dinner they’d had near the park.

  “I know I’m eating for two,” Meg said with a fond look at her handsome husband, “but you’ve got to stop encouraging me to try everything. The doctor doesn’t want me to gain more than thirty pounds and at this rate, I’ll be double that.” She patted her tummy. “Besides, it’s easy to put on, and so hard to take off.”

  “You only had veal scaloppini, and didn’t eat all of it.” He took her by the hands and pulled her up, tugging her into his arms. “How about some music? We can dance the calories off.”

  “Are you going to be Axl Rose again tonight?” Meg giggled. “Remember that outfit, Sarah, that you had me wear?”

  Byron had given Meghan a one-man concert in his apartment above hers, while Sarah had looked after Liam. That night had sealed the love the couple had for each other.

  “I’m going to leave you two and your dancing,” Sarah told them with a smile. “I’ve got heaps of things to do, so I’m going to say good-night, and go to my room.”

  “What do you have to do?” Meg asked. “Stay with us,” she attempted to reach for Sarah’s hand.

  “Nope. I’m going to book my flight to Maui, which means that I’ve got to practice the hula.” She waved her hands at her sides and wiggled her hips. “Maybe that’s my new career path. I’ll be a haole—the white woman dancing with the hula girls.”

  Byron laughed. “Sounds way better than working the ER shift.”

  “Not as profitable, I’m sure.” Sarah tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and shimmied her hips. “But all this shaking will keep me in shape.”

  “Now you’re just making me feel bad!” Meghan pouted, putting her arms around Byron’s neck, as she swayed slowly.

  “Have fun.” Sarah sashayed out of the room, and peeked back to see them kissing under the mistletoe near the kitchen doorway.

  A sharp knife slammed into her heart. Her sister’s life was full, brimming with happiness, Rick was with his wife, having a new baby too, but her baby would never know love, never know joy, never draw a breath, and that would be her fault. Her guilt. Her very own dirty little secret.

  She had known before she’d taken it that the test would be positive. That’s why she’d delayed it for so long. When she left the bathroom, she’d taken the kit and its packaging and stuffed it into the garbage bin in the garage. She didn’t want anyone finding it so she’d hidden it well—but hiding the evidence didn’t make the problem go away.

  Dammit to hell, but sometimes life was just not fair.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mick was used to living on his own—had been doing it ever since leaving the military. He preferred his own company to most people’s and when he wanted a crowd he’d go to a movie or a mall, baffled by how much had changed in the world while he’d been away, trying to save it.

  People had lost the art of conversation. Couples out for dinner looked at their phones all night and barely exchanged a word. Kids were worse—heck, they’d be texting, or sexting each other constantly. Didn’t matter if they were with their parents, their peers, or a date. Text had somehow become the universal language.

  Tonight he’d been in the mood for a different language—music, so he’d walked to the village center.

  Small vendors had set up tents in the open market to sell their wares: scented candles, fresh potpourri, towering Christmas trees, or decorative wreaths. Various scents tickled his nose as he settled in to listen to the choir and take in the sights and sounds at a manageable distance for his anxiety. He always preferred the back row.

  Pine trees, roasted nuts, citrus and cinnamon. A popcorn machine kept the children happy, with white chocolate or caramel flavors. Kids sat with hot cocoa in gloved hands, tapping their feet and singing off-key. Women of all shapes and ages happily browsed the market square while the menfolk saved seats.

  The singing started and Mick positioned his chair at the outside edge to face the carolers—a dozen men and women, dressed in vintage clothing.

  Long plaid skirts, white shirts, with green jackets, boots and green bonnets for the ladies, while the gentlemen were in black top hats, long velvet jackets worn over a plaid vest, and black trousers. A heat lamp behind them warded off the chill of the evening.

  It was a clear night and the stars were shining. Mick tapped his toe as they sang all the old favorites. “O Little Town of Bethlehem”, “The First Noel”, “Deck the Halls”, and “Winter Wonderland” before moving on to ballads, like “White Christmas”, “O Holy Night”, and “Do You Hear What I Hear.” He stood to leave when the crystal notes of “Silent Night” made him pause with tears in his eyes. What the hell?

  He blinked the moisture away and scanned the crowd. Nick Ryan handed a tissue to his wife, Jennie. Their two girls, Brooke and Katie sat beside them. They glanced his way, then, giggling, turned their heads to watch the choir.

  His thoughts wandered back over the years to when he was a little boy and had gone to church with his mom and dad, his sister Mary. Of Irish descent, they’d been raised Catholic. Mick wondered how his mom was doing. She’d remarried four years after his dad had been shot. He supposed she was happy but they weren’t close. She lived on Long Island in the summer months and had a condo in Sarasota for the winter. Her husband, Jim Wallace, had just retired after selling his insurance business.

  He’d visited them once on the west coast of Florida, but he couldn’t stand the prick. Jim had a fancy boat, a lot of cash and a big mouth.

  “Hey, Mick!” An attractive blonde girl, mid-twenties he figured, waved at him. Charlie was a waitress at Nick’s Bar and Bistro, single, and a flirt. But he wasn’t looking for trouble and she had it written all over her pretty smile.

  No, man. He’d had enough trouble in one lifetime.

  He forced a smile. “Hey, Charlie. Where’s that dog of yours?”

  “I walked him earlier—I d
idn’t want to bring him here with the crowds.”

  She had arrived in town a year or so before him and he’d seen her walking a gray standard poodle. Didn’t know which was prettier; the blonde or her dog.

  Without an invitation, she squeezed past a few people in the row and took the empty plastic chair next to his. “So, I haven’t seen you in Nick’s for months. What’s going on? Are you working now?” She offered him some of her candied popcorn. White chocolate, from the scent.

  “Volunteering at Veteran’s Hospital.” He helped himself to a handful and it melted on his tongue. “Hmm…that’s good.” He shifted on his chair. “I bought some cross country skis and I’ve been skiing at the park.” He used exercise to keep his moods in check but the gym could get stuffy.

  “Wow, that’s so cool. Good for you.” She offered her bag of popcorn again, and he accepted another small handful. “I thought you and Byron were pretty tight? With him and Meghan getting married, I suppose he doesn’t have much time for his friends.”

  “He’s still a friend. I had dinner at their new house just the other night.”

  “Oh!” She pondered that as she ate her popcorn. “Is it true, she’s pregnant?”

  “Yes. They’re both very excited about it.”

  “Isn’t she worried? I mean, I sure would be, if it were me.”

  He didn’t like the way this conversation was going. What did she want from him anyway? “Why is that?” he asked a little sharply.

  “Well, her son is autistic. Why chance a second child having it?”

  Mick was tempted to get up and leave. “They are obviously willing to take the risk. They love Liam, and he’s a happy boy.”

  “Hard to tell. He never smiles or talks. Does he actually formulate thoughts, or is his mind a blank?” She popped a few candied corns in her mouth, and gave a helpless shrug. “It would drive me nuts. If I had a child like that, I’d be a terrible mother, so kudos to her. She’s pretty awesome.”

  “She is, but people are not perfect, Charlie. No paper-cut design fits all. They will love this kid no matter what.”

  “Byron is like, this really cool guy.” She darted a quick look at him. “Just never saw him as the marrying kind, you know? And now two kids? Wow.”

  “Why not? He’s incredibly happy, and makes a great father. So why aren’t you happy for them?” Popcorn or no popcorn, her attitude was ruining his night.

  “Who said I’m not happy?” She grinned, just to prove it. “So, you want to get out of here? Go back to my place? We could do some tequila shots.”

  Which would lead to a hookup. “No. Matter-of-fact, I’ve been here long enough.” He got off his chair, feeling the pain in his back, a constant reminder of his past. “You have a good night, and happy scouting.”

  A confused expression crossed her face. Although he hadn’t been with a woman in two years, and as attractive as Charlie was, she didn’t tempt him at all. If he ever wanted a woman’s company again, she would have to be someone like Meghan—a woman with so much love in her heart that she could overlook the man he’d become, and love the man he hoped to be.

  Until he found his own Meghan, he’d do without.

  He cut across the marketplace on the diagonal heading for Main Street and a shortcut to his apartment. Wasn’t much of a home, but that was his choice. The first floor studio had come furnished, which suited him just fine.

  There was one large room, with an alcove for his bed, a sofa, a well-used armchair, a forty-inch TV on a shelf against the wall, and a small kitchen with a nook. All a man needed. After where he’d been living the previous few years, this was plenty.

  Music and books were stacked near his bed, with more around the television. He kept a six pack of Miller or Bud Light in the fridge at all times, along with a jar of pickles, some cold cuts and cheese, a dozen eggs. Freezer contained microwavable dinners and ice cream bars. Bread in the pantry, next to the bag of pretzels. He lived well, owed nothing, owned just what he could carry, and had no worries.

  He sure didn’t need a woman messing with that.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The following morning, Sarah got out of bed and went into the kitchen for coffee. Meg was there and already dressed for work, so Byron, who didn’t go into the restaurant until closer to noon, would take Liam to Norton’s, a school for children with special needs.

  “Morning,” Sarah said to the threesome gathered at the kitchen table. She walked past them to pour herself a steaming cup of coffee, adding just the right amount of cream. She leaned against the counter to savor the first taste. “You’re all up and ready for the full day ahead.” Sarah managed a cheerful smile.

  “I’ve got to be at the school by seven thirty,” Meghan said, wiping strawberry jam off Liam’s face. “Go brush your teeth, young man, and wash your hands. Daddy’s taking you to school today.”

  Byron herded Liam toward the bathroom. “I might not be coming home straight away,” he told Sarah. “I have some errands to do.”

  “That’s fine. You all don’t need to worry about me.” She hitched her butt on the kitchen counter stool. “Carry on as you always do. I don’t want to be a burden.” Byron tossed Liam over his shoulder and carried him down the hallway.

  Meghan laughed as she rinsed the plates. “Those two are best buddies.” She loaded the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. “Sarah, you know you’re not a burden. Byron and I talked about it again last night, and we both really want you to stay. I can’t blame you for wanting a holiday in Hawaii, and whole-heartedly agree that it might be the best thing for you. Get away to the warm weather and the gorgeous beaches, take some hula and surfing lessons. Get laid! Then come back and have Christmas here.”

  Sex was the last thing on her mind. “Right now, I don’t know what I really want. I feel that a change of scenery would be amazing, but do I really want to live on a volcanic rock on an island so far away from you…my only family?”

  Meghan shook her head, no.

  “As far as a vacation right now, the cost is ridiculously expensive.” She’d looked last night online. “The hotels and airfare are sky-high due to the holiday season. If I did go, I’d want to do it right and stay in a fabulous hotel on the beach, not in some second-rate place a few blocks away. Next month is a little cheaper.”

  “Can I help with your airfare? It can be a Christmas present from us.”

  “No you can’t!” She slugged some coffee. “You are the most generous person in the world and you need to take care of your family and spoil them, not me.”

  “You are also my family. I can afford it. Let me help put that smile back on your face.”

  “Oh, Meg.” Sarah put her cup down and gave Meghan a gentle hug, mindful of the baby bulge protruding from her sister’s tummy. Sarah thought about her own unacknowledged, unwanted baby. Millions of women all over the world would give their right arm to have this opportunity to be a mother, but not her. Not now.

  Byron came back into the room with a cleaned-up Liam, and saw them in an embrace. He waited for them to break apart, then said, “Everything all right with you two?”

  Meghan nodded. “I’m convincing her to go to Hawaii for a couple of weeks. Told her we’d treat for the airline fare.”

  “Nice. You should do it, Sarah. Just come back to us, that’s all.”

  “It’s too expensive right now. Maybe in January, but thanks,” Sarah answered.

  “Okay.” Byron kissed his wife’s cheek. “Liam and I are off, aren’t we buddy? It’s off to work we go.” He helped Liam into his blue hooded jacket, zipping it all the way to his chin.

  Meghan gave her son a hug and kissed both cheeks. “Have a good day at school, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, gator.” She put up her hand, which Liam high-fived.

  “Bye, Liam.” Sarah watched the pair leave, Byron whistling the Disney tune which she knew would stick in her head, and turned to her sister. “I’m so happy for you, Meg. One day I want what you have.” Just not now.

  “Yo
u’ll get it, hon. With the right man this time.” She put her mug in the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a tea towel. “There are English muffins or whole wheat toast, eggs in the fridge, or cereal for breakfast. I’ve gotta run. Mondays are always the worst. Not sure why.”

  “Hi ho, hi ho—it’s off you go then. I’ll grab something.”

  “See you tonight,” Meghan said with a laugh, going to the hall closet for her coat. She chose an off-white knee-length wool coat that she couldn’t button up over her tummy.

  “Sure. Have a good one.” Sarah walked to the door with Meghan and closed it slowly behind her sister. She had no idea what she was going to do all day. After being so busy for the past twelve years she had a Monday to herself with nothing to do, but a whole lot to think about.

  She made herself a toasted English muffin and spread a home-made jam on top. The jar had a lace doily covering it, and Sarah wondered if the jam was a present from one of Meghan’s kids. She was a school counselor at the elementary school in town and the parents and the teachers loved her. Who didn’t? Meg was a giver, and went out of her way to make everyone happy. Like offering to pay for Sarah’s ticket to Hawaii. Generous to a fault.

  Not like her. She’d been the hell raiser growing up, whereas Meghan had been the good daughter, staying at home nights, studying, getting good grades, doing her chores without complaint, never telling on Sarah when she’d get up to trouble.

  No way could she tell them about her baby and ruin this happy time for the two of them. This was Meghan’s moment, her nine months to celebrate the joy of having another baby, a healthy one, Sarah hoped, knowing that her sister and Byron would love this child no matter what.

  She didn’t want to steal her thunder, or dampen what should be the happiest of times, with her own baby woes. Meghan, kind-hearted, giving and loving, would pretend to be thrilled for her—or worse, her sister actually would be happy.

  Sarah had to carry this burden alone until she made a decision to either abort the baby and tell no one, give the baby up for adoption, or raise the baby by herself. None of the three options had a satisfying ending. Why did this have to happen to her? She’d been on the pill. She might have missed taking it a night or two, but after the first year of dating he didn’t want to wear a condom anymore, and she had let him.