Yuletide Redemption

by Jill Kemerer

  “We see the outside, but we don’t know what’s going on inside. When is your next doctor appointment?”

  His leg may be ugly, but it was whole. He’d purposely tried not to think about what was going on inside it. The nerve was supposed to reconnect. That was the whole point of the nerve graft. “Dr. Curtis warned me healing would be slow.”

  “He was right,” she said, nodding. “But these surgeries don’t always restore full function. Dr. Curtis warned you about that, too.”

  “What are you saying?” he snapped. The odors of the room assaulted him—sweat, sweat and more sweat.

  “I’m saying, keep working hard. Make an appointment with him before you go back to work.”

  “I’m going back in January.”

  “Okay. But be careful. And protect your leg as much as possible.” She set the clipboard down and swiped her tablet. Clicking her tongue, she read whatever was on the screen. “During our initial interview, you told me you spent seventy-five percent of the workday on your feet before the accident. Will you modify that?”

  He sighed. “I’ll try.”

  “You’re going to have to do more than try, Sam. Don’t expect work to be the same.”

  “Nothing is the same, is it?” He grabbed the water bottle and took another drink. If only she’d hook the electrodes up to his flaming emotions. Release the tension every word she said brought on. “I’m going to be using a cane soon. I have to.”

  “You’re not ready.” Her mouth twisted in disapproval.

  “I am ready. Ready to move on with my life. The crutches are impossible. I can’t use my hands for anything, and I’m tired of having to wear a man-purse to carry something from one room to another. How can I shake a customer’s hand if I’m worried my crutches will fall?”

  “That’s why you need to talk to Dr. Curtis before returning to work.”

  “So what are you saying? If he doesn’t clear me, I’m stuck at home?”

  “I don’t know. That’s your call. You might be better off using the wheelchair at work. You can keep coming here three times a week and use the crutches at home.”

  “I’m not going to work in a wheelchair.” He stared at the wall. All this work and for what? Nothing?

  “Hey, normally I’d agree with you. I want you out of the wheelchair as much as possible. But I don’t want you collapsing on the floor with a muscle strain. Or worse. Think about it.”

  Dr. Stepmeyer shut off the machine, carefully detached the electrodes and told him to go down the hall.

  If this place had a punching bag, he was ready to go nine rounds with it. Instead, he made his way to the hall. All the prayers he’d pleaded last year roared back. How many times had he begged to be blessed with the ability to walk on his own?

  The urge to ask again hit him hard, but he shook it away.

  He didn’t care that God ignored him or that Dr. Stepmeyer thought he should wait. He was tired of waiting for his life to turn around.

  He’d go back to work. He’d stay on his crutches. Soon, he’d walk with a cane.

  He’d show them all.

  * * *

  “How did it go?” Celeste drove out of the physical rehab center’s parking lot after Sam buckled himself in. They’d decided to make their first appearance at Lake Endwell Library today to pick up Christmas picture books for Parker. It had been over a year since Celeste had been in a library or bookstore, and she couldn’t wait.

  “It went fine.” Sam kept his head turned away, staring out his window. The way he said it told her it was not fine.

  “Did something happen?” She turned left at the stoplight on their way out of the city. The air had a bite to it, and the snow from the weekend still covered the ground. Had it been only four days since he’d kissed her? She’d mentally relived it about four hundred times since then, but who was counting? He’d been so wonderful with Parker when they’d decorated the cookies, but she’d been a wee bit disappointed that he’d kept his distance from her. He certainly hadn’t attempted to kiss her again.

  “No,” he barked. “Let’s drop it.”

  She sat up straighter. Well, then.

  Tempted to ask, to push him for details, she gritted her teeth and cranked the country music louder.

  He flicked the radio off.

  “What is wrong with you?” She didn’t even try to keep the exasperation out of her tone.

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you still want to go to the library?” Please say yes.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” He crossed his arms over his chest, not looking at her.

  “You tell me.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Wonderful.

  She’d gone into full-blown dreamy schoolgirl mode, unable to contain her enthusiasm about seeing Sam again. And Sam? Seemed as enthusiastic as an angry raccoon.

  But why?

  The miles sped by without conversation. Bare trees and evergreens lined the side of the road. As they neared Lake Endwell, her irritation mounted.

  She hated the silent treatment. Didn’t she have enough to worry about right now? Like the upcoming evaluation by her plastic surgeon? And what about her home life? She was regularly staying up past midnight to meet her clients’ needs and was so tired in the afternoon she’d taken to napping with Parker. She’d gotten an email this morning from her top client. They wanted to double her hours after the holidays. How was she going to keep up?

  With one hand on the steering wheel, she rubbed her left temple. The work didn’t fulfill her. Sure, she was organized and good at her job, but she found it boring. She wanted to share her love of history with others as a teacher. If she was this busy trying to raise Parker and make ends meet, how would she find time to take the online courses she needed to get certified?

  Lake Endwell Library came into view. She found a spot, and minutes later, with Parker in her arms, she held the door open for Sam and followed him inside.

  It smelled like books. She closed her eyes and smiled. Books—the best smell in the world.

  “Mama! Mama!” Parker bounced in her arms. She set him down, keeping a firm hold on his hand.

  “Stay with me, Parker. Let’s go find the children’s section.” She didn’t bother looking Sam’s way as she led Parker to the corner with hot-air balloons painted on the walls. Miniature hot-air balloons in assorted primary colors hung from the ceiling, too. Very cute.

  Parker toddled to a table with wooden puzzles. Celeste helped him sit in a tiny chair. She browsed the picture books while he played. An adorable Christmas book with a big brown bear on the cover caught her eye. She flipped through, smiling at the beautiful illustrations. How did artists do it? Create such imaginative pages conveying different moods?

  Within minutes she’d collected a pile of picture books. Parker was still happily clanging the big wooden puzzle pieces against the forms. Someone had left a stack of magazines and books on the table, so she sat in one of the tiny chairs and eyed the titles.

  A celebrity magazine, a Southern cookbook, two mystery novels and a nonfiction book. The nonfiction piqued her interest. Something about being okay after life falling apart.

  She itched to pick it up and read the back cover, but what if the person who’d selected it came back? Would they think she was poaching their book?

  With a turn of her head to the left then the right, she tried to locate who might be checking out this pile. A librarian stood behind a counter. An older man near the fireplace read a newspaper with one ankle on his knee. Sam stood in front of the shelves with the DVDs. Her gaze lingered on his broad shoulders.

  What had put him in such a bad mood? She nibbled her fingernail. Was it something she’d said?

  She snatched the book. It was written from a Christian viewpoint. She sighed. It probably was going to dr
one on about how life will be perfect if you just trust in God enough.

  Life wasn’t perfect. No matter how much she trusted God.

  After flipping it over, she read the opening line of the back cover. Life isn’t perfect for Christians or anyone.

  Huh. Maybe she should give this one a try.

  The bullet points reiterated the theme: God will help you survive any circumstances. It promised the secrets of having peace regardless of your trials and recognizing how something good can come from something bad.

  She needed this book.

  Opening to the first chapter, she began reading. And she didn’t look up until Sam stood next to her. She sensed his presence before he cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

  “Sure.” She rose, checking on Parker. He still sat at the table, but now he was flipping the pages of a board book with a caterpillar on the cover. “Did you get what you wanted?”

  “Yeah.” His posture wasn’t as stiff as earlier.

  “Would you watch him for me while I check out?” Celeste hauled the picture books into her arms, and she set the nonfiction back on the other pile.

  “Of course.”

  She walked in the direction of the front desk, but on a whim, she turned to the computer. Maybe the library had more than one copy of the book she’d left on the table. If not, she could put a hold on it. She typed in a search of the title, and when she saw they had another one available, she almost raised her hand for a fist pump. It took only a minute to find the book.

  At the checkout desk, the librarian blinked when she registered her scars, but Celeste just smiled. Books made everything better. She didn’t have the energy to be self-conscious, not when she couldn’t wait to carve out a few hours to read.

  She wanted to find out how God could make something good come out of something so bad. Was it even possible?

  “I’m all set.” She approached Sam and Parker. With one hand full of books, she attempted to pick Parker up. She almost lost her balance, but on the second try, she settled him on her hip. Kissed his soft cheek. “You ready to go home?”

  He wrapped his arms around her neck.

  They left the warmth of the library for the cold wind outdoors. Strange, but having the book in her possession made her not care if Sam was grumpy or mad at her. She didn’t want to analyze his mood.

  “Do you need anything else?” She started the van. “Want me to stop anywhere?”

  “No. I’m ready to go home.”

  Disappointed, she nodded. He didn’t want to be with her. Good. She had a book to read. Work to do. Her life to figure out.

  The problem? It was all easier with Sam by her side.

  Even if she shoved her romantic feelings underground, she couldn’t imagine forging forward with her new life if Sam wasn’t a part of it.

  She glanced at his profile. Serious. Reflective.

  Unfortunately, she had no guarantees their friendship would last.

  Chapter Nine

  Sam followed Bryan and Jade into the pew later that night. He hadn’t been to church in a year and a half. Was he ready to trust God again? He wasn’t sure, but if not, why was he here?

  For Macy. And Tom and Stephanie. He loved his niece, and it was time to support her the way his family had been supporting him. And he felt guilty about being short with Celeste earlier, but there was only so much bad news he could take.

  Soft strains of “Angels We Have Heard on High” filled the room along with the smell of freshly lit candles. The stained glass windows appeared dark, the scenes difficult to see at night. Kind of like his mental state. Difficult to discern. Sam opened the program. Five hymns. From the looks of it, the service would be long. He stretched his leg out.

  The pastor welcomed everyone, and the opening hymn played on the organ. He shouldn’t have taken his annoyance out on Celeste. She understood him without judging him. He liked their small talk, the ease of being with her.

  It would be simple to have that ease back, but how could he lead Celeste on?

  If he went to the doctor and found out he wasn’t cleared for work, he didn’t know what he’d do. The facts were there—out of work, couldn’t drive, couldn’t walk—basically helpless. What woman wanted that combination in a man?

  Maybe he hadn’t been leading her on. Maybe the doctor would clear him for work.

  The pastor motioned for everyone to rise. Sam gripped the back of the pew in front of him and hauled himself to his feet, careful not to put too much weight on his right leg. He joined in a responsive reading and soon was sitting again.

  Sam relaxed as the pastor read the sermon text, then preached about Jesus’s birth from Mary’s perspective.

  “Picture a young woman, thrust into a drama she hadn’t expected. First, she’s visited by an angel and finds out she’s going to be the mother of the promised Savior. Then she almost loses her fiancé because of the baby, and instead of enjoying the pregnancy in familiar surroundings, she’s forced on a long, strenuous trip to Bethlehem, where she gives birth in lowly circumstances.”

  Sam folded his hands in his lap. He hadn’t put much thought into Mary at Christmas.

  The pastor continued, “And what about Joseph? Here’s a man who was shocked to find out his bride-to-be was carrying a child. A visit from an angel explained the baby was from the Holy Spirit, but I’m guessing it was a lot to take in. On top of that, they’re forced to travel to Bethlehem at a time Joseph would most want to protect Mary. The town was so crowded. Joseph couldn’t even provide proper lodging for them. They had to use a manger for a crib. Most husbands don’t want their pregnant wives making a difficult journey, and they certainly don’t want their baby to sleep in a feeding trough.”

  Joseph’s issues? Sam understood. Of course Joseph wanted to protect Mary. If it was Sam, he would have knocked on every innkeeper’s door and demanded a room, which, now that he thought about it, Joseph probably did.

  Why hadn’t God given them a room? He’d sent angels to Mary and Joseph, explaining what was happening, but He wouldn’t give them a comfortable bed?

  “Sometimes God’s ways don’t fit in with our expectations,” the pastor said. “We expect God’s Son to be born in luxury, not his humble beginnings in the small town of Bethlehem. All-powerful but with no earthly kingdom. It’s almost incomprehensible God would send His beloved Son to earth to die for our sins.”

  Sam frowned. If he had a son, he’d protect him and not let anything bad happen to him.

  “But Jesus didn’t stay dead. He conquered death. This Christmas season I hope you focus on this—God loves you so much He sent His son to live a perfect life, to die for you, and to rise again so that you can have eternal life. This is the real Christmas gift. The gift of salvation by grace alone.”

  “Amen,” the congregation said.

  Piano chords filled the church, and Sam shifted to watch two rows of children march up the aisle. Macy’s ringlets bounced above her dark purple dress. When they were lined up, they began to sing “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

  He bowed his head, surprised at the emotion pressing against his chest. Jesus never had it easy. Born poor. Tempted by the devil. His friends betrayed Him. And He was crucified even though He’d never done a wrong thing.

  Sam swallowed to loosen his tight throat. Jesus’s entire life had been filled with struggles—and He not only was God but was loved by God. Jesus could have led an easy life. He could have hopped right off the cross, but He refused.

  Maybe Sam had been wrong all this time.

  Maybe God did care about him.

  Could God have plans for him that he didn’t understand? He glanced sideways at Bryan, who had his arm draped over Jade’s shoulders. Sam hoped so.

  He wanted a family of his own. Mary and Joseph had made it work, and they had a lot of o
bstacles to overcome.

  He needed to apologize to Celeste. Make an effort with her. Be the friend to her that she’d been to him. Their friendship was growing into more, and maybe he didn’t need to fight it. Maybe it was time to do something together just the two of them.

  After the service ended, he gathered with the rest of his family in the large entryway.

  “Nice singing up there, Sunshine.” Sam winked at Macy.

  “Thanks for coming, Uncle Sam.” She hugged him. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled. “Are you coming over for cocoa?”

  “Umm...”

  “Are you up for it?” Bryan asked him as he helped Jade into her coat. “We’ll drive you.”

  “I think I am.” Sam nodded as Macy jumped up and down, clapping.

  “I’m going to tell Mommy!” She ran to where Tom and Stephanie chatted with a few other parents.

  So simple to make Macy happy. Showing up really wasn’t hard. Why had he convinced himself it was? Asking Celeste on a date might not be hard, either.

  “How do you two feel about kids?” Sam asked Bryan and Jade.

  A look of terror crossed Bryan’s face, but Jade grinned. “We love kids, don’t we, Bryan?”

  His brother visibly gulped.

  “I’m going to ask Celeste out this Friday. Would you consider babysitting Parker?”

  “Of course!” Jade said. “We’d love to. We are so glad you met her.”

  He was, too. He’d survived weeks of physical therapy, attended a Sheffield Auto meeting with his dad and brothers. He’d even gone back to church. Going on a date couldn’t be that big of a deal.

  Anxiety knotted his gut. Dating. Did he even remember how to date anymore? And what if Celeste said no?

  * * *

  Celeste massaged the back of her neck and collapsed on the couch later that night. She’d finally finished her to-do list. She checked the clock. After nine. Not bad. It was the first time this week she’d finished before eleven. She hadn’t had time to open the book she’d gotten from the library earlier, so reading tonight was her reward for wrapping up early.