Christmas Miracle

by Patrice Wilton

  Kate Harris was a pretty brunette, petite and curvy, with a big appetite for life. She was always bouncing from guy to guy, and had worked in several departments in the hospital, settling in Pediatrics. One day she’d finish sowing her oats and probably have a dozen kids, since she adored children so much. If Kate knew what Sarah was thinking, she’d probably drive down here to straighten her out.

  Carrie Simpson was five foot ten, lean, and focused on her career more than a relationship. The most serious of the three, Carrie was also the person who’d make the plans for them to meet, find theater or concert tickets, and kept in close touch. If she’d heard the rumors of her and Rick’s breakup, and that Sarah had left the hospital, she’d be worried sick.

  Sarah hadn’t answered either of their calls.

  They’d met in training and had formed a solid friendship even though their working hours had always been askew. Once every couple of weeks they’d find time to hit a bar, have a few drinks and some laughs and dinner somewhere. Mexican was a big favorite, mainly for the margaritas.

  When she got home, she better send them a text. But what would she say? She couldn’t tell them about the baby, because they’d go nuts. They might say something to Rick and she didn’t want him to know. Her friends would never let her go through an abortion. Knowing them, they’d want to raise the baby with her. That’s the kind of friends they were—loving, loyal, and as close to her as her own sister.

  Tears spilled out of her eyes. She didn’t want to disappoint them. They loved her, and she loved them. But what could she do? She couldn’t go back to Penn Med, that’s for sure. Not even to see her friends. Heck, what if she ran into Rick? Her sister would be hugely disappointed if she told her that she’d decided not to stay in Heaven, and wanted to go back to the city because she missed her friends.

  She’d been so wrapped up in her own drama, she didn’t have room for anything or anyone else. Now she suddenly missed them with a physical pang.

  Sarah chided herself on being selfish. Why couldn’t she be more like Meghan?

  As the tears continued to fall, she pulled off the highway and into a Wendy’s parking lot.

  She found some tissues in her bag, mopped her cheeks and blew her nose, but the tears didn’t stop.

  Gathering her nerve, Sarah hit Carrie’s number, hoping her friend wouldn’t pick up.

  Carrie did. “Sarah, Good God, girl! Where have you been? What’s going on with you? I’ve left a dozen messages, and do you call me back or leave word? No!”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Please calm down. I’ll try to explain.”

  “You better, because I was getting ready to take you off my Christmas list.”

  Sarah snorted out a laugh. “You would. So what have you heard?”

  Carrie’s voice dropped an octave as she said, “I know you quit your job, that your dick boyfriend is back with his wife, and she’s having a baby. What I don’t know is, how are you? I’m sure you’re taking this hard, but why would you leave and not come to us first? Kate and I are really concerned.”

  “I know, but it’s only been a week, and I’m at my sister’s. In Heaven. Remember I told you all about this place last year when she moved here, and met Byron? Anyway, they’ve asked me to stay,” she crumpled a tissue, “and hope I’ll find a job and an apartment close by. Meghan’s having another baby. Liam’s five now.”

  “We aren’t interested in hearing about your sister’s perfect life, how are you doing?”

  Sarah’s eyes misted up again, and she sniffed tears back. “I miss you guys. And I love you more than anything, but I really messed up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I might be pregnant.”

  Dead silence met this announcement. “Did you hear me? I said I might…”

  Carrie broke in. “I heard, I’m just trying to figure this out. You’re either pregnant or you’re not. Which is it?”

  “Uh, the test said pregnant, and it’s ninety-nine percent correct. But I could be that one percent, couldn’t I?”

  “Highly unlikely, as you well know. So have you seen a doctor yet? At least made an appointment to confirm this?”

  “No, and no. I’m in denial and I’d like to stay that way as long as I can.” Sarah drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, half wishing she could just drive herself into a brick wall. No more problems after that. But with her luck she’d survive and have massive injuries.

  “Now, there’s a plan.”

  Carrie’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on her, but she didn’t need that right now. Heck, she was beating herself up pretty good without any help from her friends.

  “Yeah, well, you should walk a mile in my shoes and see what options you come up with.”

  “What options?” Carrie asked sharply. “You are having a baby and you and your sister can raise the cousins together. You will both be very happy. It’s me and Kate who are left out in the cold. You’re a heartless bitch. If you’re going to have a baby, at least you could have stuck around Philly so we could all be together.” Her voice hitched. “We’d want to help, Sarah. That’s what friends are for.”

  “I know. I was thinking about how you both would want to help me raise him or her, and that kick-started a crying jag. No offense, but I’m not a heartless bitch. I’m saving you guys from hanging around a depressed, fat mom and her screaming baby. You still get to go out and have fun. What fun will I have? My life, as I know it, is over.” She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Changing diapers, trudging my kid off to daycare, while I work a twelve-hour shift in order to buy diapers and formula.”

  Carrie laughed. “Just wait ’til I tell Kate what you just said. She’ll track you down and wallop you over the head. I might help her.”

  “She’s the one who should be pregnant. You know how much she loves kids, and yet she refuses to stay with a man long enough to get knocked up.” Sarah took a deep breath, feeling better for venting. She’d known talking with Carrie would do her some good. “You want to really hate me?”

  “Impossible,” Carrie said. “But go ahead. Make me try.”

  “You’re not going to like it, but it’s my choice.” Sarah stared at the indent of her fingernails in her palm from squeezing her tissue so hard. “I’m thinking of going to Hawaii and having an abortion.”

  “No way!”

  She ignored the outburst. “Would you and Kate join me? Just for a few days. If you really care about me the way you say you do, you’ll support me in this. Take a few days off. We’ll have a blast.”

  “A blast? Having an abortion. Killing yours and Rick’s little baby? Are you crazy, girl? I could see killing Rick and burying his body in a shallow ditch covered in lime, but an innocent baby, no.”

  “I don’t know why I’m talking to you. You’re always so damn reasonable. Kate would understand.”

  “Like hell she would. She saves babies lives every single day, and would be heartbroken if she heard you talk this nonsense.”

  Sarah dug her teeth into her bottom lip, happy when she drew blood. Damn her, but Carrie was right. She shouldn’t be thinking of taking a life, any life, especially not an innocent child who didn’t ask to come into this world.

  But if she didn’t do it, then how could she remain in Heaven, a guest in her sister’s home? It would be like stabbing her sister in the back, to mar this miraculous pregnancy of hers. She had nearly lost Liam at birth and hadn’t expected to be able to conceive again which made this all that more special and wanted. Meghan might not hate her for it, but she’d hate herself.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie. I know this is an impossible situation but one that I need to figure out on my own. I’ll give Kate a call in a few days, and tell her what’s up. I don’t want to drag either of you down, and yet I need your support. Like Bette Midler said, you girls are the wind beneath my wings.”

  Carrie sighed. “Yeah, that’s a good one. If we were, you’d probably fly off to Hawaii right now.”

  That brought
a small smile. “Okay, love you, and please don’t repeat this conversation with anybody. I especially don’t want Rick to know. Or Kate. I don’t want her hating me too.”

  “Nobody hates you, even if you’re talking like a crazy person and not a nurse who dedicates themselves to healing others. Keep your chin up, you hear? It’ll all work out. It always does.”

  “So they say, but they are not always right.”

  “Give our love to Meghan, and little Liam. And make that doctor’s appointment!”

  “Yes, Mother.” Sarah clicked off, but sat for another minute, thinking about her own mother and what she might say. Mom would have both hers and Meghan’s best interests at heart. What would she advise?

  Sarah started the car and drove back toward Heaven, stopping at a shopping mall on the outskirts of town. She found a maternity shop and bought a few cute outfits for Meghan to wear during the holiday season, and newborn clothing in neutral colors for the baby’s first months. For Byron, she bought some new bestsellers from authors he loved, and splurged on the number-one bestselling karaoke machine endorsed by several celebrities. It promised to make bad singers sound good, and good singers sound great. Knowing how much they both enjoyed music and entertaining, she figured that it would make a great house present.

  Last, Sarah went into a couple of toy departments and found some new educational games that Liam would enjoy, as well as Lego sets for him to build, or sort, or stack, but would keep him happy for hours. She nabbed some doggy treats for Keats by the cash register. In sixteen days it would be Christmas, but would it give her good cheer? Little chance of that, but for Meghan’s sake she’d try to make it a happy one.

  It was nearing noon when Sarah returned home. Before emptying the car she checked to see if Byron had left for work, and since he had she unpacked her purchases and brought them inside. She took out the wrapping paper and bows, found some scissors and tape and went to work. An hour later she put the pretty packages under the tree. It was the one nice thing she could do for this family she loved.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mick was unofficially a Patient Care Technician at Veteran’s Hospital. He did anything asked—from helping in the scheduling department, setting up pre and post procedure monitoring, running wheelchair patients to and fro, to cleaning equipment and making sure each was in working order. His day was varied, his schedule flexible, and he found that he enjoyed the hectic atmosphere. To his surprise, he was good with people, and it salved a wound in his heart to give back and help others who hadn’t fared as well as him.

  Being busy made the hours go at lightning speed. It was one before he had a chance to sit down at the employee cafeteria and grab a soup and sandwich. He normally ate with some of the other PCT people he knew, or a few of the nurse practitioners. One had a crush on him and when he moved toward a table by the window, she picked up her tray and joined him.

  “Hey, Adalyn. How’s your day going?” She was pretty, a little chubby, but always with a bright smile. Her accent had a musical Jamaican lilt. If he asked her out, she’d probably go, but he didn’t have a car, had little money, and didn’t live nearby. Three wrongs didn’t make a right.

  “Hey, Mick. I tried to find you earlier, but wasn’t sure if you were working today. Must have kept you busy, huh?”

  “Yeah. They stuck me in the back room, filing medical charts. Then I had some rescheduling to do.”

  “Boring.” She picked at her fries. She normally ate the same thing most days. Fish and chips, a hamburger or a pizza slice. Definitely not a salad girl. “Me? I was changing beds, emptying out bed pans, and giving sponge baths. Lucky me.”

  “Tough life, but somebody’s got to do it,” he said as usual. He dipped his soup spoon into the rich clam chowder. Took two mouthfuls, then wiped his lips. “Damn, that’s hot, but it sure is good.”

  She gave him one of her happy smiles, her big brown eyes dancing. “You look different today. Anything special happen this weekend?”

  “Not really. I was invited over to a friend’s house on Saturday night. You know that couple I told you about who got married recently? They’ve kinda taken me under their wing, like a pet project or something. Anyway, Meghan sure can cook.”

  “That sounds nice. I’d like to meet them someday. Maybe I could have you over one night, too? I make a mean jerk pork. And my chicken curry, is my, oh my!”

  “Sounds real good,” he said. “Only problem is I live forty minutes from here. Told you that. And I don’t drive.”

  She put a hand over his. “That’s crazy! On the islands you don’t need a car, but here? You sure do! My beat-up old Volkswagen gets me back and forth to work each day, and I can grocery shop, go to the movies or out to eat. I love my car.” She cut off a slice off fish and took a bite. It was loaded with tartar sauce, which she loved as much as her ketchup-soaked fries.

  “Yeah, I know. Been told that plenty of times, but it makes no difference to me. I like what I like, same as you do. I find it relaxing to take the bus, or the train. I can sit and look out the window, or read a book. Listen to audio sometimes too.” There was no pressure. “It’s nice.”

  “No car payments, no gas to buy, no stress. I can dig that. But for convenience, there’s nothing like having your own car.” She grinned up at him. “So, why don’t you let me take you back to my place on Friday, I’ll cook you a scrumptious meal, then drop you off at the train station?”

  “That’s a pretty hard thing to turn down.” He took another mouthful of chowder. It was a really nice offer and she was sweet to want to go to all that trouble for him, but he remembered Sarah’s face, her tears, and her worries, and it was complicated. He had told Sarah he’d have her back and he’d meant it.

  Besides that, he didn’t want to get involved with Adalyn or lead her on, when it wasn’t going anyplace but here.

  “Is that a yes, then?” she asked hopefully.

  “I’m sorry, but can I take a rain check?” he said, not looking at her eager face. “I’ve got a few things to sort out right now. You see, this girl’s pregnant and she doesn’t know what to do. I’m trying to help…she’s a friend.”

  Adalyn threw her napkin down. “You knocked up some girl and you expect me to give you a rain check? Hell no! I’m not that desperate you know.” She stood and picked up her plate. “Well, good luck with that.” She marched off to the opposite side of the room, and sat down.

  With a feeling of regret, he let her go.

  * * *

  Sarah had a few hours to kill before Meghan would be home, so she stopped at the store for some chicken breasts to make for dinner. She parked and got out of the car, remembering that her dad’s things were in her trunk.

  Curiosity pulled at her, Perhaps she would uncover something she didn’t want to know. War wasn’t a picnic and of course her dad might have done plenty of things that he’d deeply regret. But she loved her father so very much, and nothing would ever change that. They’d had the two best parents in the world. If Meghan didn’t want to know his secrets, she’d keep them to herself. But she itched to know.

  Opening the trunk, Sarah picked the masking tape away from the middle of the cardboard and slowly opened it. Her stomach lurched and her mouth went dry, as if she expected all the deadly secrets to automatically spill out.

  Nothing so dramatic.

  She grabbed a handful of photographs, a journal and some manila envelopes, leaving the rest. He’d had this box for over forty years, and she could take her time discovering what mysteries it contained.

  Carrying the groceries in both hands she sat the documents on top. She had to use her foot to keep Keats from running out. “Get down, dog.” One of the brown envelopes fell from her hand and Keats pounced, his sharp teeth tearing into it. “Keats! No!”

  She dropped the bag of groceries and grabbed the envelope before the pup destroyed the contents—her heart raced at the close call. She quickly put away the fresh veggies and meat, then carried her father’s things to her bedroom
. She took each old photograph to the window, studying the images carefully. Her dad, young and handsome in his military garb, with his buddies, a few shots of them all in training. The photo was dated late 1971.

  On the back of a M48 Patton tank with a mounted gun, shots of the jungle and men she didn’t know grinning, like they were starting an exciting adventure. Too young, too ignorant, to know better. And yet, that wasn’t right. 1955 to 1975. The war had been on for two decades, Americans fighting without the support of folks at home. But her dad and these men had gone to the jungle, despite that, looking brave and fearless. Probably the first few days when optimism was still high, Sarah thought.

  More pictures later, the same men now were dirty, clothes ragged, expressions weary, looking so much older. They weren’t smiling. They were haggard and thin. She flipped the page over, it was dated 1974. The year before the fall of Saigon.

  With her heart thumping painfully in her chest she carefully put the photos in a drawer, then sat back and opened the journal. She skimmed the first few pages.

  “We thought we were invincible. The training had set us up for a fall. Young boys, hardly men, we were going to end this war, rid the world of communism, come home heroes. The fight had gone on too long. Kids were burning their draft cards, rebelling in schools all over the country, fleeing to anyplace that would have them. But not us. We were tough American marines, no weak half-starved Congs living off rice. We would die for our country proudly, or come back having finished what had been started, decades and many presidents before. This much hated war would be ended by us brave soldiers, or so we thought.

  The day we arrived in Laos and stepped out on the tarmac, the hot wind whirled up red dust and burned my face. I remember it brought tears to my eyes. I thought it was horrible then, but I knew nothing. Horror waited secretly behind every tree, coming out of the sky, from all directions, weapons and men who would happily eat us alive.