Finding Her Christmas Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Joy brightened them. Mixed with something else, something poignant. He kept his hands on hers as he studied her face, her features, her hair, and then he sighed. “You’re so much like her, but you’re your own person, too, aren’t you?”

  “I’d like to think so. I’ve had a good life,” she told him.

  “So did Jenn,” he replied softly. “We made sure of it. Lord have mercy, we loved that girl and it was such a blessing to get her. When the agency called and said they had a little girl, not quite two years old, we were ecstatic. But if we’d known about you, Sarah...” He had to pause a moment to catch his breath, and the oxygen tank that fed his nose tube made a noise. “Sorry.” He frowned, frustrated by the lack of air and muscle weakness his body endured. “We would have loved both of you. I hope you know that. We would have never chosen one when we could have had two. Just so you know.”

  The effort to talk left him breathless.

  Once his breathing calmed, Sarah didn’t hold back. She leaned in, reached out and held him.

  Lanny’s eyes filled with tears.

  He tried to blink them back, but that only made them slip down his weathered cheeks.

  Renzo grabbed a couple of tissues and gently blotted the tears away.

  “Why is Grandpa crying?” Chloe glared up at him, then Sarah. “Why did you make him cry?” she demanded. She crossed her arms and scowled.

  “Because we’re happy to see each other, dear.”

  Chloe’s frown suggested otherwise.

  “And because we both miss your mom.”

  “You didn’t know our mom.” When Chloe rolled her eyes, Naomi smacked her on the arm.

  “I knew you when you were a baby,” Naomi argued.

  “Well, we were born together,” Chloe replied.

  “But Sarah knew our mom for months, so she did know her, Chloe.”

  Kristi took Naomi’s side. “She knew her when she was little, and you never, ever, ever forget a sister. Like ever.”

  Chloe stared at Kristi, then Naomi, and then she did something she rarely did. She backed down. “I didn’t think of that, I guess.”

  “I was almost seven months old when the Browns adopted me, so your mom and I were together that long. And I think somewhere, in the back of my mind, I always wondered about my family,” Sarah told them. “But it wasn’t until recently that people could check it out. It just didn’t happen quite in time for your mom and me to meet. But I get to meet you guys. And all kinds of nice people here. That’s a pretty special thing to celebrate on Thanksgiving, I think.”

  “A reason to be grateful,” agreed Lanny. He sighed then. Renzo noticed the sign of fatigue. So did Sarah. She stood. “I’d like to come visit again, if it’s all right with you, sir.”

  “I would love that.” His voice rasped and she stepped back.

  “I’ll head back to the house now and help Mom and Dad.”

  Renzo nodded. Sarah was stepping back to give the girls some time alone with Lanny, but there was no mistaking the raw emotion on her face, and when she swiped a tissue to her eyes on her way out the door, Renzo’s heart went tight.

  The injustice gripped him. He excelled at unraveling puzzles, setting things right, helping to secure evidence and build cases against wrongdoers, but there was no way to fix a decades-old mistake like this.

  The front desk receptionist moved their way. “Anyone want one of these?” she asked. She proffered three bright-toned turkey-shaped lollipops.

  “Oh, thank you!” Kristi and Naomi dashed her way. “These are so cute!” Naomi exclaimed.

  “I remember you gave us these last year, too,” Kristi told her, and the woman nodded.

  “I order some every year for our holiday visitors,” she told them.

  “I’m always sad when I have some left over at the end of the day,” she said to Renzo.

  He knew what she meant. Not everyone in the facility had family that came to see them.

  Chloe stayed by Lanny’s side. Naomi brought a lollipop to her. “I got one for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Renzo cleared his throat softly.

  Chloe knew what that meant. It was their quiet signal that it was almost time to go. She gulped and clung to her grandfather’s hand. “A little longer? Please?”

  “Two minutes,” he told her softly.

  She swallowed hard, then nodded before she leaned close. She didn’t say anything. Renzo was pretty sure she couldn’t. She simply laid her head against her grandfather’s chest and arm and stayed there, eyes closed.

  The two old ladies had drawn Kristi’s and Naomi’s attention as they fussed over their cute outfits, but Chloe stayed tucked along the curve of her grandfather’s arm. Renzo didn’t want to end the moment, but Lanny’s strength was fading. When he reached down and gently touched Chloe’s arm, she sighed. Then she opened her eyes and whispered just loud enough for Renzo and Lanny to hear. “I love you, Grandpa. So much.”

  Lanny lifted his hand to her head. He set it there for just a moment, but weakness prevailed and his hand slipped to his lap of its own volition. He sighed. “I love you, too, Chloe. All three of you.”

  “Girls?” Renzo motioned Kristi and Naomi over. “Time to say goodbye. We’ll come back again on Saturday.”

  “Love you, Grandpa!” Kristi gave him a gentle hug, but not gentle enough. Lanny winced, but didn’t make a sound.

  Naomi didn’t hug. She set her hand on his arm, leaned close and fluttered her eyelashes against his cheek. “Butterfly kisses,” she whispered to him. “Butterfly kisses are the lightest ones ever. They don’t hurt at all, do they, Grandpa?”

  He smiled slightly. Muscle weakness made everything difficult for him, even showing emotion.

  Chloe lifted her head. She planted a gentle kiss on his other cheek and stood. “Love you, Gramps. See you soon!”

  His tiny smile deepened slightly before fading, but it was enough for Chloe. She stepped back and reached for Renzo’s hand. She didn’t do that as often as the other girls. Today her tight grip said more than words.

  Naomi and Kristi skipped ahead, less aware of the seriousness of Lanny’s condition.

  But Chloe clung to his hand, and when she stepped outside, she paused, much like Sarah had done. She glanced around. Glanced back. Then took a deep breath and walked slowly to the SUV.

  * * *

  “That was an amazing meal, Lindsay.” Renzo lifted the pictures he’d sent to his printer and slipped them into a padded envelope. “And Sarah, Mom will love the pics. And she and Aunt Shelly will both love the pie.”

  “Can Grandpa have pie?” asked Kristi. “Maybe we should send more, right?”

  “Grandpa can’t chew things yet,” Renzo told her. “We can make more pies for Christmas, okay? Or whenever. As soon as Grandpa can eat regular stuff, we’ll bring him all of his favorites.”

  “Not liver,” announced Chloe. “I do not want to help make liver. It’s awful.”

  “But Papa loves it,” Naomi replied. “So maybe it’s just good for him. But not me,” she added quickly, in case anyone thought otherwise.

  “We’ll take care of the liver,” Renzo assured them. He slipped the envelope into his coat pocket. “I will give them your love, your cards, the pictures and pie. That’s a good Thanksgiving visit.” He turned toward Sarah and her parents. “Thank you for helping put this all together. I liked helping Mom do things, but I can’t say I really understood all the steps it takes to pull off a holiday like this. Now I do, and my appreciation has increased exponentially.”

  “I feel the same way.” Sarah motioned to the soft hum of the dishwasher. “And we’re blessed to have amazing machines that help. It had to be tough in the pre-dishwasher days, right?”

  “Families helped each other,” Lindsay told them. “People didn’t just stay with their own families like this. They�
��d gather together and share the feast and the work.”

  “Like a potluck,” Kevin, Sarah’s father, added. “My grandparents used to organize the community Thanksgiving for their hometown in Kentucky. There were maybe fifty families or more. Kids of all ages. Parents. Grandparents. A real old-fashioned gathering. I don’t know if they still do that, but I’ve never forgotten those celebrations.”

  “It makes it a shared experience,” Lindsay added. “Is your brother going with you?”

  Renzo nodded as the side door opened and Kyle came in. “Yes. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

  The girls mobbed him. He hugged each one, assured them that he had their new cards for Grandpa and stood. He made eye contact with Sarah and her parents. “Thank you again. I can’t say more than that.”

  “I’m glad to get the chance to spend a little time with these three,” Kevin Brown told him.

  “Drive safe,” added Lindsay.

  Sarah had gone over to the coffee maker. She turned, crossed the room and thrust a to-go cup of coffee at him. She didn’t want to worry about him making the long drive in the rain after eating a big meal, and coffee was her go-to in times of stress.

  “Thank you, Sarah.” He accepted the coffee and took a sip, then smiled at her. Just her. “Perfect.”

  The smile suggested he wasn’t simply referring to the hot drink. She ignored him on purpose. “Turkey can make you sleepy, and it’s a long drive to the coast in the rain.” Clouds had darkened the afternoon sky, and the rain had begun in earnest a few minutes before.

  “We’ll take turns,” Kyle assured her. “But coffee’s not a bad idea.”

  She poured him a cup, too, and after Kyle had added a dash of cream, the two men left.

  Her parents stayed and played games with the girls. By the time they left, the triplets were worn out. She tucked them into bed and came back downstairs to a quiet house.

  Silence surrounded her. It felt strange to be alone in the Calloway house on a holiday. She glanced around, feeling out of place even though this family had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome and better yet, needed. Was she truly a help or an interloper, wanting her way?

  The side door swung open just then. Renzo came in. He turned to shut the door and the set of his shoulders drew her sympathy. She moved his way, and when he saw her, he smiled as if seeing her was enough to make things better. Sarah couldn’t remember seeing that kind of reaction from any of her old suitors. But from Renzo, it seemed to come naturally. “It’s quiet.”

  She laughed softly. “I was noticing that, too. Too quiet. It felt strange.”

  “Well, there hasn’t been much quiet time since you arrived, and there won’t be much going forward, so we should bask in it for the moment,” he said as he moved forward.

  “How was Seattle? Your mom? Your mom and dad?” She spoke softly as he slung his jacket over the back of a chair near the fireplace He took that chair while she settled into one across from him. “Unless you’d rather not talk about it.”

  He hesitated slightly before he replied. “Not talking isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He leaned forward, folded his hands and took a moment. “I don’t see much improvement, Sarah. Little, if any. And he looks so desperately unhappy. Almost as if—”

  “He wishes we hadn’t saved him.”

  He didn’t respond, but his expression agreed.

  “Renzo, I’m so sorry.”

  He grimaced. “They said it might take months for his brain to heal and even longer for him to make substantial progress. They’re talking about a long-term nursing facility, and I don’t even know what to say about that, because the last thing my father would want is long-term care. The guy wrote a DNR years ago. My mother knew about it, but they hadn’t mentioned it to me or Kyle. She said Dad was so against nursing homes that he insisted on drawing it up when they were still in their fifties. He didn’t want her to say anything, said he didn’t want us to try and talk him out of it, and Mom said she went along because the chances of it being needed were slim. She didn’t want to argue with him, so now he feels like she betrayed him. He can’t talk, but he’s clearly angry with her.”

  “Oh, Renzo. I’m so sorry.”

  “Except that I wouldn’t change a thing, Sarah, and what does that say about me?” he asked. “If I had known, I would have still done life-saving measures even if you weren’t here to help, because no one knows the outcome of something like this. Why would we ever shrug off life? So it’s not on you, because I’d have done the same thing. But it’s hard to see him wishing we’d all just stepped back.”

  “I don’t think I could have,” she told him. “Instinct kicks in and you jump into action. It’s not like he had a terminal illness or something.”

  “Exactly. And I wanted to scold him, but how do you scold someone for not wanting pain and suffering?” He sighed, and clenched his hands. “They suggested the same nursing facility that Lanny’s in because it’s close to the house.”

  That advice startled her. “But that’s not a rehab facility. It’s a skilled nursing home.” It wasn’t Sarah’s call to make, but the thought of tucking Renzo’s father into a home for the aged seemed wrong. “What’s the prognosis?”

  “Uncertain.”

  “That means a possible recovery,” she told him.

  He frowned. “He can’t eat. He can’t move. He can’t function. I don’t see how—”

  “Hear me out.” She’d taken the seat across from him, but this was too important a discussion, so she picked up a footstool and went to sit in front of him. “I understand that he may have irreversible brain damage. It’s hard to know, even with scans because the brain takes a long time to heal, but it’s crucial to get him the physical therapy he needs right now. That avoids atrophied muscles, and helps keep the connection between brain and muscles intact. When my grandfather suffered a stroke, it was a long road back, but he did come back, Renzo. And we had the chance to have him with us for twelve more years, and he was ten years older than your dad. I’ve seen amazing things happen. With the right care and motivation.”

  “He can barely move, Sarah.”

  “That’s true right now.” She gave him a frank look. “But that’s because the damage is fresh. I understand the conundrum you’re facing, because no one wants to go against a parent’s wishes and this puts your mother in a horrible spot.”

  “She’s the eternal optimist married to a dyed-in-the-wool realist, so she’s caught in the middle. Mom always says with life, there’s hope, but she’d promised him that she’d never put him in a home. He wanted to die with his boots on. He said that often enough. Yet here we are.”

  “Cowboy rugged.” She reached out and took his hands in hers. “But if he gets put into therapy ASAP, then you’re giving him the best chance of coming out of this. There are no guarantees, but if he goes to a home with no physical therapy program in place, you’re basically signing his death certificate.”

  “So why wouldn’t they just send him to one of those?” Renzo asked.

  Sarah was pretty sure she knew why. “I expect they’re getting mixed signals. From him, from your mom and then the fact that he didn’t want to be resuscitated and didn’t want long-term care weighs in. If he’s got no fight left in him, then it’s a tough call to make.”

  “Maybe some battles are too big to take on.” She frowned and he acknowledged her expression quickly. “You think he’s got a chance?”

  “I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “And I don’t want to be responsible for pushing you in a direction that doesn’t work, but if your dad is willing to fight and we can increase his mobility once his heart is strong enough, it’s amazing what the body can do to heal itself. He’s already defied the odds,” she reminded him. “It’s rare for people to live through the combination of isch
emic stroke and cardiac arrest. Your dad did it. Now you need to clear the path for the rest of his recovery, and a lot of that depends on good heart health and mobility.”

  “I suppose the best facilities for that are in Seattle or Spokane, correct?”

  She squeezed his hand lightly. “There are good ones there to get him started, but you’ve got a really good one right over in Ellensburg. Top-rated, great programs and solid results. I checked out ratings after I saw your dad on that video. That stubborn look told me he was just plain mad that he’s in the predicament he’d always feared, so now the question is, does he have the strength and will to pull himself up and out?”

  “I’ve never known a stronger man,” Renzo replied.

  “That might be true, but you have to go into this knowing the results aren’t guaranteed,” she cautioned him. “Right now he’s at the base of the mountain, and the climb looks formidable. But most climbs get better when we get near the top. Here’s the thing, though.” She locked eyes with him and inched slightly closer. “It’s hard work. He’ll get mad. He’ll get discouraged. He’ll want to quit. But if the cowboy I met here has your kind of gumption, he’s got a shot at doing this, Renzo, and I’d be wrong to say otherwise. But there’s honestly no time to waste because if he’s not cooperating with them—”

  “And my mom doesn’t have the heart to push him.”

  “Exactly. But I expect you and Kyle can urge him back on the right track. Something to think about, anyway.” She stood and tapped her watch. “Gotta go. It’s getting late.”

  He stood, too. “Sarah?”

  She met his gaze. “Yes?”

  He reached for her, and this time she didn’t step back. He pulled her into a hug. A beautiful, wonderful hug. His arms didn’t just embrace her, they encompassed her, as if she was meant to be here, in this man’s arms, forever.

  You could work in Golden Grove. Or he could work in Seattle. Why complicate this?

  Because it wasn’t that simple. Her skill levels demanded a highly trained facility with intricate equipment that wasn’t found at every hospital. And he was caught in the middle of a major family crisis here.