by Nikki Duncan
“Do you want to walk the lot again? Or should we try another one?”
“Just pick a tree and let’s be done with this. Looking more isn’t going to help.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure why I think I can find perfection. Especially today.”
Especially today.
Like a two-ton baton, her words smacked him upside the head. Today was the anniversary of Sabrina’s death. She had every right to be in a bad mood. Hell, he was impressed she was out of her house.
Signaling to the lot attendant that he wanted the tree she’d okayed, Ryland took Jennalyn’s hand and pulled her to the benches surrounding the hot chocolate stand. It was still early enough in the month that the tree lot wasn’t busy during a weekday. Still, Ryland picked the table farthest from the cocoa stand.
Leaving Jennalyn, he went for two drinks. She appeared, outwardly anyway, to be completely fine in her bubble of silence. He knew the pain of losing someone special, though. He recognized her outer shell as a façade. It was one he’d worn when he was eighteen.
Placing the paper cups on the table, Ryland slid onto the bench beside her. Several minutes passed in silence. They were minutes during which he hoped she would open up. Minutes during which he found his thoughts traveling back in time to his darkest moments. Moments that had set him on the path to becoming a doctor, which had led him to Jennalyn.
Life’s domino effect was surreal.
“I know your pain, Jennalyn.” He took her gloved hand in his and squeezed gently. “No amount of preparation or bracing makes this day any easier.”
“You don’t sound like a hospital professional offering a platitude.” She looked at him, really looked, for the first time all day. “You sound more like a man who’s lost someone.”
“You lost your sister who you were very close to. I lost a daughter I barely knew.” Elise. Her name slid through his conscience, hushed by the distance of years. “There are no platitudes that cover lost love.”
She looked up at him. Her brown eyes were dark. When she finally pushed words beyond the stranglehold of what he assumed to be suppressed tears, her voice was quiet and thick. “You’ve never mentioned a daughter.”
“Only my family and a few close friends know about Elise. I was eighteen. She was unplanned, but damn I loved that kid.”
“What happened to her?”
“SIDs.” The world lodged in his throat. It always did, regardless of the circumstances because it always made him think of Elise’s too-short life. “She was just under a year old.”
Rather than offering words that would provide no comfort, she leaned against him. Her warmth soothed him, made him glad he’d decided to open up.
“How about her mother?”
The biggest mistake of my life. “I married her because it was the right thing to do.”
Jennalyn tilted her head to glance at him for a moment. “That was a statement of fact with no emotion if ever there was one.”
“As could be expected in those circumstances, Erin and I didn’t last much past Elise’s death. We barely worked even before that.”
“A tune I know by heart. Sorry it didn’t work for you.”
He looked toward the trees, stared until they blurred. He never talked about Elise anymore, only replayed the same memories of snuggling her on his lowest days. She’d been the high point of his life. The best part of him. “I have her picture in my office so I never forget.”
“Along with twenty other kids.”
He shrugged. “Elise was the reason I became a pediatrician. I couldn’t cure SIDs, but I could help other parents avoid the same loss.”
“But you stopped practicing medicine.”
“Actively. As an administrator I still impact lives. And it generally hurts a little less when we do lose a fight.” For him, we was a collective term. When a patient didn’t make it, the entire hospital felt it. His staff felt the losses on such a personal level that it was uncommon for at least one person not to attend each funeral.
“This month is a way of impacting lives.”
“In a small way, yes.”
“So explain the pictures in your office.”
“Those are the patients I lost while I was actively practicing medicine.” Their pictures were reminders of why he did his job. Each day, their smiling faces greeted him. Their spirits guided him.
The sad smile he had come to recognize as Jennalyn’s normal smile stretched her lips. “You get better every time you open your mouth.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself, Jennalyn James.” Going along with her change of mood, hoping it lasted the rest of the day, he released her hand to hug her close. “What do you say we go find a tree for the main house?”
She checked her watch and flinched. “Yes. We’re going to have volunteers waiting on us if we don’t.”
They headed back to the lot to look at the trees once more. Jennalyn’s spirits, though still shadowed, were lighter. To keep things on the more casual footing, he hooked his arm around her waist as they walked. She settled against him, fitting as though she was his second half.
Not that he was going to say as much when she was raw from grief. Maybe, by the time the month was over, he’d see a miracle in Jennalyn. If he were really lucky, he would earn a small one for himself.
“If four out of five people suffer from diarrhea does that mean one enjoys it?”
Jennalyn’s mouth twitched at the corner.
“Some people are like Slinkies.”
Ryland continued his quest to cheer her up. His attempts had turned to bad jokes. Humoring him, she asked, “How?”
“They’re not really good for anything, but you can’t help smiling when you see one tumble down the stairs.”
She chuckled. As much as she wanted to be glum, she couldn’t stop herself. Ryland seemed to know that. He raised a brow and did a single head nod. It was like he was accepting a challenge and only he knew the rules.
“You ever play bridge, Jennalyn?”
“My parents did. Why?”
“I was just thinking about how sex is like playing bridge.”
Yes. He was definitely the only one who knew the rules. There was no logic to his conversation path. She may not know the rules, but he had her wanting to smile if the tug in her cheeks was any indication.
“It scares me to ask, but how are bridge and sex alike?”
“If you don’t have a good partner you better hope you have a good hand.”
Jennalyn was still laughing a few minutes later when they pulled into the circular drive at Ronald McDonald House where Chrissy and Zack waited. Chrissy broke away from their intimate-looking chat and opened the passenger door.
“Are you okay?” Chrissy asked with a quizzical look.
“Fine.” Jennalyn hopped out of the truck, looking forward to the rest of the day more than she’d thought possible.
“You’re…laughing.”
“Ryland has been telling jokes.”
“You don’t like jokes.”
“Generally that’s true.”
But typical rules didn’t apply to the medical professional in a cashmere sweater and leather coat who thought nothing of driving a beat-up truck or doing tasks he could easily pay for. The man who took the time to buy her cocoa, share his past and then tell her jokes.
Shaking her head, she watched Ryland unload the giant tree with Zack’s help. “There’s something about that man, Chrissy.”
“So it would seem.”
The unspoken humor in Chrissy’s words blared like neon to Jennalyn. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Chrissy rolled her eyes—a signal that she was adjusting her stance. “Well, nothing if you being smitten can be considered nothing.”
Jennalyn whipped around, stared at Chrissy. She spoke slowly to make sure she wasn’t misunderstood. “I am not smitten. You on the other hand…” She wiggled a finger in Zack’s general direction.
“That’s too bad.” Chrissy hooked her arm through
Jennalyn’s and led her inside. She ignored the dig about her and Zack, but her smile revealed the truth of what was going on. “Ryland is perfect for you.”
“No man is perfect.” They both looked back at the man lifting the trunk of the giant tree.
“Guess he’ll just have to be perfect for someone else.”
“Taunt all you want, Chrissy. I’m not in the market for a man.”
“Then maybe you should take up bridge because you need something to do with yourself.”
Jennalyn stumbled to a stop and stared at Chrissy’s back as she kept walking. Her friend couldn’t have known about Ryland’s last joke. If she had known, Chrissy would have taken her remark much further. Still, it had Jennalyn thinking about playing bridge. Like any smart woman, though, she would wait for the right partner.
“Heavy tree coming through.”
Ryland.
Jennalyn stepped aside and let Ryland and Zack pass. She’d helped load the tree, so she knew well how heavy the monstrosity was. The men made it look easy as they positioned it near the huge, brick fireplace. When they popped the strings holding the branches a collective gasp filled the room, coming from the mass of volunteers she’d barely noticed before.
Jennalyn smiled. At ten-feet tall and at least half that in diameter the tree they’d picked was impressive. After Chrissy introduced Jennalyn to all the volunteers—all fifty or so of them—and they were all settled back into the tasks they’d agreed to tackle, Jennalyn headed to the kitchen area for a drink. The tables had been covered with gauzy cloth that had snowflake patterns made with a silvery thread.
Each centerpiece was a clear glass cookie jar. Snowmen. Santas. Reindeer. They were all there and all with their bellies full of cookies of assorted shapes, sizes and Christmas-themed colors.
In the kitchen it looked like everyone had jumped aboard the Excess Express. She didn’t see an inch of countertop that wasn’t covered with casserole dishes, sandwich trays, fruit and veggie trays, and even more baked goods. Some of the baked goodies she recognized from the firehouse.
“The other kitchen here and the one at the hospital look just like this.”
Jennalyn turned to see Zack leaning against a beam with his arms crossed and a smile brightening his handsome face. The green eyes that had laughed with everyone else over her ineptitude in the kitchen charmed her.
“Did you and the guys organize this?”
“A few of the guys with kids may have mentioned it to their wives who in turn mentioned it to the PTAs and booster clubs of their schools.” He shrugged. “And none of your volunteers showed up empty-handed.”
“There are a lot of volunteers.” The list she’d gotten from Ryland had contained less than a third of the people who’d shown up. They had taken it upon themselves to invite their families, both immediate and extended.
“They have a lot to be grateful for. This is their way of saying thanks. And of making sure everyone staying here this year feels a little more at home.”
The Christmas spirit echoed off the walls with the sounds of laughter and chatter, though on a more subdued level the reminder of such generosity was never absent from the House. Its evidence remained year-round in the form of a snow village that had been encased in a large glass box.
The village offered a message of hope that was as everlasting as the blue sky with fluffy clouds that had been painted on the ceiling of the main entrance. The ceiling was a gift a mother had donated to the House after her winter stay was finished. After months of going to the hospital too early in the morning and staying too late at night to ever see the sky, she’d wanted to do something for other parents. Her answer had been to hire a painter to turn the entryway ceiling into a replica of a light blue, cloud-filled sky that would allow other parents to always see the daytime sky.
Generosity became a living thing that breathed strength into everyone who volunteered at the Ronald McDonald House. Generosity and a loving desire to ease suffering in even the smallest ways.
Propelled by the beauty of that emotion, Jennalyn tracked down Chrissy, grabbed Zack and a couple of volunteers and headed to the company van outside.
The tree and decorating party had been Ryland’s idea. Thanks to the help of Ronald McDonald House staff, Jennalyn had a surprise of her own.
Ryland used his foot to nudge the box of red bows along the floor before him. He was tying the bows to the evergreen garland that another volunteer was winding around the banister railing. The whole time he kept Jennalyn in his sights.
He continued to discover new levels to how much he enjoyed her company. There was a prideful thrill of victory when he made her smile or laugh, but being with her had turned into more. The promise to Sabrina no longer drove him. The outings for A Month of Miracles had become about more than rewarding a few special kids for their strength and bravery.
A Month of Miracles had turned into an escape, with each outing serving as another chance for him to see Jennalyn. Another chance to see her reveal a little more of herself, and what he saw made her more appealing.
Charisma. Kindness. Generosity.
She gave the best of herself to everyone and asked for nothing in return. Currently, unaware that she was being watched, Jennalyn gave her attention to Zack. Ryland wouldn’t allow himself to speculate over the possible contents of their conversation. He didn’t like what popped to mind. Frankly, he didn’t like her talking to another man.
Possessive? Perhaps.
He wasn’t accustomed to feeling jealous. Even as a teen, when he’d first started dating Erin, he’d never felt this way. He wanted to be the only man Jennalyn wanted to be with. Wanted to be the only one who could draw that serene smile to her lips. Or the glint of mischief that had flashed before she grabbed Chrissy, Zack and a few other volunteers to head outside.
They weren’t gone long when she returned. She and each volunteer carried a box sporting the logo of a local glass blower.
Like the clichéd curious cat, Ryland abandoned his task and went to investigate, meeting Jennalyn and her helpers at the dining tables as she and Chrissy maneuvered the volunteers to stand by particular boxes. The commotion drew the attention of the others and within minutes everyone had grouped themselves by family.
Jennalyn moved to a box that sat alone. She ran her fingers along the edges. They shook lightly, yet she appeared in control.
Instinct had Ryland stepping up behind her, ready to give whatever support she may need.
“You all know that today was Ryland’s idea.” A quiver of a tremble vibrated in Jennalyn’s voice, but an inner strength kept her from cracking. “You are also familiar with, or will soon be, the miracles he’s granting to a few special kids.”
Everyone nodded. No one spoke.
“His generosity inspired me.” She nodded toward the boxes. “The boxes before you are filled with hand-blown ornaments in two styles.”
Each volunteer who’d carried a box in lifted off the lids. Their movements and reactions were almost identical and in the same order.
Gasps covered by hands over their mouths. Hands dropped to the ornaments tenderly. Brilliant smiles with a tear or two.
It wasn’t until Jennalyn lifted her lid that Ryland understood. Nestled in the box, with probably three layers deep of nine ornaments, were fragile angel ornaments. They either floated with their wings outstretched or they walked on a brick-paved road with their wings tucked at their backs.
In a fine silver script that flowed as smoothly as a silken ribbon, a child’s name graced each angel.
“The names represent children whose families stayed here at Ronald McDonald House. The earthbound angels are the ones who have overcome their illnesses and injuries thanks to Riley.” Her voice dropped an octave as her left ring finger outlined the wings of the floating angel in the center of the box.
Sabrina’s angel.
“The flying angels are those who now watch over us from above.”
There were several of each design, but only one
person in the room lifted a flying angel from their box. That was Jennalyn as she lifted Sabrina’s angel.
As soon as she began planning this surprise, she had known the reveal would come on the anniversary of Sabrina’s death. Knowing, having time to prepare, wouldn’t have done anything to ease the hurt. It was the same hurt he’d felt when talking about Elise. The same hurt he’d felt when he sat with Jennalyn at Sabrina’s end. He’d cared for the little girl whose spirit had touched his. Maybe as much as Jennalyn had.
Ryland rested a hand on Jennalyn’s shoulder and didn’t try to stop the tears that fell from his eyes. Her breath shuddered as she hugged Sabrina’s angel to her chest and turned into his arms.
Chapter Eight
Wrapped in the warmth of her Christmas robe and the fading glow of a satisfying day, Jennalyn picked up the glasses of wine she’d poured and returned to the living room. Ryland sat in the corner of the sofa she habitually curled up in. He had to know from the placement of the throw blanket, remote, book and coaster where she sat. Instead of asking if he’d intentionally taken her spot, she handed him a glass and moved to sit at the other end of the couch.
Silently, he captured her hand and pulled her to the cushion beside him. She’d settled with a shrug before he finally spoke.
“I hope you like action movies.”
Leaning forward to place her wineglass on the table, her gaze landed on the bowl of rocks she’d placed his other gifts in. Mixed in with the larger rocks and stones were a bunch of little ones. They were all shiny with different shapes and colors. She picked up an aqua blue one and rubbed it between her fingers.
“When did you add these?”
“While you were changing.”
“Do these have any special meaning?”
“They’re pretty.” He shrugged, as he so often seemed to do. “They started out as a rough material, but adversity shaped them into something even more beautiful. You’re a little like them.”