by Kylie Key
Mom swiped at her teary cheeks, pushed away from the screen by Phillip. At fifteen, he was the oldest of the boys and had become my best friend since I started home schooling.
“Hey, Ang,” he said, “You’ll never guess what tree Mr. Hooper got. Y’know how you said he’d take the big Scotch Pine, well you were right, sis!”
I giggled a little. Mr. Hooper was a regular, and every year he talked about downsizing to a smaller tree. He’d come in weekly to check out the trees, and I had laughed that he’d probably end up buying the eight foot Scotch. Seemed I had been right. Though it was of little consolation.
“Hopefully the road will be cleared tomorrow,” Dad came back on screen, “So we’ll be in as early as possible.”
“Yes,” Mom chimed in, “the storm is supposed to have passed, so first thing tomorrow, baby.” It was a brave face she was putting on, and I didn’t want her to be sad on Christmas Day.
I had to dig deep, no point in ruining everyone’s day.
“Well, make sure the boys don’t peek at my presents,” I said with a false bravado, “And save me some turkey!”
“You’ll be lucky,” Phillip jibed, the candy canes now poking out of his nose.
“Santa will be here soon,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking, “so I better join the others.”
We sent virtual hugs and kisses to one another, the pretence of being okay about everything exhausting me.
“Love you, Angel,” Mom and Dad said, and I quickly put my phone down before I sobbed in front of them.
I needed to take stock and come to terms that I wouldn’t see my family on Christmas Day. I locked myself in my bathroom, allowing myself a private moment to recover. Finding strength was vital now, I didn’t want the staff to pity me, and the other kids didn’t need to see me with eyes and a nose as red as the reindeer socks I’d worn for too many days.
I’d have a little nap, sleep away the nausea and the sadness, and then prepare myself to join everyone for Santa’s arrival.
Chapter 8
Chase
THE TWINS CAME BOUNDING back into the room with more trays of beads and elastic bands and things I couldn’t identify. Nene followed with some sort of plastic things, and Annalise and Karolina busily got to work like they were elves in Santa’s workshop.
“We’ll do some rubber band bracelets,” Annalise announced, and I watched as they chose colors and wound rubber bands around a loom. They let me have a turn but Annalise declared my fingers to be too fat and took over. Karolina gave me some red and pink thread and said I should make another bracelet for Angelina, this one with a small bell added to it. I did as I was told.
Mom and Nene went back into the kitchen, and Dad came out and sat at the table, curious to see what was going on.
Annalise put a green and blue bracelet on his wrist, and a second later Karolina gave him a blue and white one. Dad praised them both, and he admired the ones they’d laid out on the table.
“They’re for the sick children,” Annalise said.
“Oh, very good,” he said.
“Can we take them now?”
“What?” Dad looked confused. “What sick children?”
“At the hospital,” Annalise said.
“These are for the sick children Chase is looking after,” Karolina said, grouping them all into a pile. There were about a dozen of them now. “Will this be enough, Chase?”
“Yeah,” I said, knotting the jingle bell onto the bracelet. It was going to be one annoying bracelet.
“I’ll finish this one, then we can go,” Annalise said.
“No, not today,” Dad said. “We’re going to Uncle John’s soon.”
Annalise’s face fell in an instant, and she scowled. “No, we have to give these to the sick children. Today. It’s a Christmas present for them.”
“We won’t have time...” Dad started to say, but Annalise had already leapt off her chair and was running to the kitchen calling to Mom.
A few seconds later she reappeared, pulling Mom by the hand. “Tell Daddy we have to take these today!”
I tell you, the girl had a fierce tongue, and Karolina was by her side in a snap, the pair of them giving Dad a look of daggers. I pitied Dad and hoped he’d choose his next few words wisely.
“Annalise. Karolina,” he said softly, “Girls, we’ve got a very busy day, and...”
“I’ll take them,” I cut in, seeing the light in their eyes about to dim. “I’ll take the girls.”
Mom and Dad both looked dubious, and yes, they might have good reason to be suspicious after my inability to grasp the meaning of the word grounding. But my sincerity was real, and yes, the prospect of seeing Angelina might have been a major motivating factor. And when my sisters dashed over to me, clinging to my side and pulling at my sleeves calling me the best brother, it really was an adrenaline rush. If my friends knew I was voluntarily offering to go to the hospital with my little sisters on Christmas Day, they would have thought I’d had a brain transplant. And they’d never believe that I’d spent the morning making bracelets with them.
Mom and Dad frowned at each other, and Dad checked his watch. “Well, we’re not expected at John’s until later, and I could go to the Community Kitchen now.”
“Why don’t we all go together?” Mom said, glancing over to Nene, “To the Community Kitchen first, then on to the hospital.” I winced. Seeing Angelina with my whole family around hadn’t exactly been what I’d envisioned. “I think it’d be a wonderful thing. Let me ring May.”
There was no stopping Mom after that. Arrangements were made so that the Mayor would accompany Santa in handing out presents to the children, and Nene bundled up a basket of treats, and my sisters gathered up the bracelets and decided they’d bring their ukeleles to play to the sick children. Dad tried to discourage it but they insisted.
I put the chocolates for May, Mrs. Lark and the Borellis into a gift bag, pleased at my decision to buy them, but now I wished I’d bought something for Angelina. Maybe if Mrs. Lark wasn’t there I could give hers to Angelina. Though that didn’t seem fair to Mrs. Lark.
Waiting in the living room, I contemplated the situation and then had an aha moment—the pink winged angel on top of the tree had been the inspiration for the drawing on Angelina’s gift tag—could she be the perfect gift?
“What are you doing?” Mom’s sharp voice jolted me, making me lose my balance. Caught red-handed, I stumbled to the side.
“This angel,” I stammered, “um, this angel...there’s no angel on top of the Christmas tree at the hospital. This would look...good.”
A knowing smile crept onto Mom’s face. “Go on then, take it. She is rather special.”
“She’s new, isn’t she? I probably shouldn’t.” I could sense she was noticing my flushed cheeks. “The girls will go mad.”
“It’s fine,” Mom said, “I don’t think they’ll mind sharing her.” And she did this silly eyebrow raise at me. I put her in the bag quickly and mumbled that I had to get my scarf.
I WAS HUMBLED BY THE respect that Dad was given at the Community Center. I generally kept away from any official events unless it was absolutely required, the Fourth of July Parade was one Mom made me attend. It was an eye-opener to see the number of volunteers helping with the Christmas luncheon and the surprising amount of people who would otherwise be alone at Christmas. Anyone would think handing out cutlery was a mundane task, but the twins accepted their job with pride, and bossed me around to check that there were napkins on all the tables.
Most of the children were in the lounge when we arrived at the hospital. I say most because I couldn’t immediately spot Angelina. Maybe she was with her family.
Annalise and Karolina went straight to the tree, delighting in all the ornaments, amazed when Mom said I had decorated it.
“Well, Angelina did most of it,” I admitted. I pulled the angel out of my bag and said, “Here you go. For the top.”
“Did you bring her from home?” Annalise asked. I nodded
and lifted her up to place it on the top. Then I lifted Karolina, who straightened the angel’s pink wings.
“She’s perfect,” the twins said at the same time, their smiles and pure hearts making my spirit soar. Mom’s too, by the dewy look in her eye.
It wasn’t long before Santa came in, followed by Dad wearing a green elf suit and carrying bags of parcels. I laughed as hard as my sisters, the sight of Dad making me pull out my phone for a photo. The twins dashed over to join him, their earlier disdain of him forgotten. They seemed to be able to let go of a grudge quicker than me.
Mr. and Mrs. Borelli arrived in matching red sweaters, both of them greeting me like their favorite friend. They pulled me in for a hug and Mrs. Borelli joked that the three of us were triplets dressed in red. And strangely I didn’t mind, not at all. Mrs. Borelli gushed over how cute the twins were, hugging them like they were her own grandchildren, and Nurse Esther snapped photos of us. That’s when I saw her—Angelina—an ethereal vision entering the room.
She was wearing a soft white sweater and pink leggings, and she wore a sparkly silver headband over her woolen hat, and matching dangly earrings. I stared in amazement, my heart beating wildly out of rhythm as if in the throes of cardiac arrest. She was scoping the room with a look of uncertainty until her eyes landed on May, who took her in her arms, squeezing her shoulders and smoothing her hair. A smile radiated across her face, and then she saw me, her eyes widening.
Whatever Mrs. Borelli was saying, my ears weren’t comprehending. All I could see was an angel in pink, white and silver.
Annalise snapped me out of my trance when she jabbed her ukulele at me.
“Hold this, Chase,” she said, “Me and Karolina are helping Santa,” and on cue a second ukulele was shoved my way. Juggling the musical instruments, I looked around for somewhere to put them. The table behind Angelina seemed like the perfect spot.
May had her hand on Angelina’s shoulder, and I took a breath of courage before walking over, praying she wouldn’t shun me in front of May.
“Are you going to be providing the entertainment today?” May teased as I laid the ukeleles down.
“You won’t need me for entertainment,” I said, “Looks like my sisters will be running the show.” A glance to the front of the room showed Annalise organizing Dad and Santa with the sack of presents. In the past thirty seconds she’d somehow managed to acquire elf hats for both her and Karolina.
May chuckled. “I guess I’m not in charge after all,” she said.
There was a soft snicker from Angelina, and an equally soft voice. “They’re adorable,” she said, and only then did I dare look at her. My heart fluttered insanely, her sweet smile giving a little fullness to her cheeks but she was betrayed by the redness burned into her eyes. Something had upset her—was it the treatment she’d had this morning, was she in pain?
“Angelina, why don’t you take a seat over on the couch?” May said, and then with a less than gentle tug she pulled me aside and whispered behind her hand, “Angel’s family can’t come in because of the blizzard. The road to Snow Ridge is closed.” She sent me in the direction of the couch with a guiding push.
My heart sunk. Snow on Christmas morning had seemed like a miracle, picture-perfect, but I could see it was also a curse for some.
“Hey,” I said, my hand hovering behind Angelina’s back as I caught up to her, “By the way, Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you. Same to you.” I saw her throat swallow with unease, like there was something stuck in it.
I followed her to the couch but I was hesitant to sit next to her because I was supposedly here to help.
“Can I get you anything? A pillow? Something to eat? Or drink?” I asked.
Settling herself into a comfortable position, she smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
On closer view, her bloodshot eyes revealed otherwise.
I let out a deflated sigh—why was life so unfair? If I could have traded places with her, I would have.
“Are you sure? The table is loaded with treats. What’s your favorite Christmas food?” My nerves were making me talk gibberish. “I’m a fan of gingerbread myself. Especially Mom’s pancakes.”
A whoosh of air escaped her lips. “Cinnamon rolls.” She smiled. "My mom and me have a competition to see who can make the best cinnamon rolls.”
“Who chooses?”
“Dad and my brothers,” she said. “They do a blind taste test.”
“Who won last year?”
She hesitated before saying, “Mom did. I added orange to mine and only Phillip liked it.” She let out a little laugh, like it was a good memory.
“I would’ve voted for it,” I said. “I like orange.”
“Well, this year I had a secret ingredient planned.”
“Which is?” I decided to throw all caution to the wind and sat down next to her. She didn’t squirm or move away from me. I considered that a good thing.
“I can’t tell you,” she said. “Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”
“I’m curious now,” I said. “I need to taste these cinnamon rolls with the top-secret ingredient.”
Angelina laughed and only then did she let herself make eye contact with me. Like real eye contact, not fleeting but gazes locked. Her beauty astounded me, her shy smile, her kindhearted expression, her tenacity in all this adversity.
I was flooded with an almighty desire to make everything right for her.
“I’m sorry your family can’t be with you,” I said, rather boldly resting my hand on her knee.
Her face pinched for a moment, and I berated myself for saying and doing the wrong thing but as I was about to pull my hand away she covered it, her skin cold to the bone.
I reached for her other one, enclosing both of them between mine. She didn’t say anything but I could see her gratitude. And I didn’t say anything, quite possibly the tingle of warmth making me mute.
Chapter 9
Angelina
THE SMILE ON MY FACE couldn’t erase the emptiness inside of me. I was wearing a soft white chunky sweater, one I’d bought online especially for Christmas Day. It was a little baggy on me, but all of my clothes were now. I paired it with pale pink leggings, also new and oh so pretty, but I couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. Even the silver headband, earrings and dash of perfume couldn’t lift my spirits.
Being separated from my family on Christmas Day had left me flat. And now I was going through the motions, on automatic.
Yes, Santa was coming and the staff would move mountains to make sure our day was special with gifts, food, games and music—but it would be hard to drum up enthusiasm when I wouldn’t get to see the ones I loved the most.
It’s like there was a hole in my heart.
But I had to make the effort. For May and the nurses. For the other children. For my family.
There was nothing I could do to conceal that the whites of my eyes were now red, except maybe constant blinking? Or sunglasses? But that would draw more attention to me. I giggled at the thought of arriving in the lounge looking like a Hollywood celebrity in dark glasses.
May embraced me as soon as I arrived, meaning my smile was genuine but the hollowness prevailed. A room full of people, sure, but they were virtually strangers.
Then I saw him...Chase Masters...and he was looking in my direction. He was in a red hoodie and black scarf, and his hair was a little ruffled as if he’d been caught in the wind and snow.
How was it that he was volunteering on Christmas Day? Was he truly dedicated? I didn’t want to admit it but my heart started beating faster.
Two little girls crowded around him handing him their ukeleles, and my heart rate spiked as he headed towards May and me. Well, actually the table behind me. He placed the musical instruments there, and I must have gone blank or deaf or chemo brain had come back because the next thing I was sitting on the couch with him by my side, talking about cinnamon rolls or something, and then he said, “I’m sorry your family can�
��t be with you.”
And I remembered that a storm had closed the roads, and my family weren’t coming to see me.
He reached out to my knee and something inside of me melted. His touch—comforting, warm, tender—magically filling me with joy, with hope, with promise.
I can tell you it wasn’t done lightly, returning his touch. So much angst and turmoil inside of me. The cannula attached to the back of my hand a stark reminder that my cancer journey wasn’t over. I might be going home tomorrow but I’d be back again. The battle hadn’t been won yet.
And I didn’t know when it would be over. Nobody did.
He flinched ever so slightly. I forgot that my hands were cold. It was another side effect of chemo, though maybe Chase would think it was because it was December and minus degrees outside. Maybe that’s why he wrapped his hands around mine, rubbing them gently.
And it was the best feeling in the world.
It was worth every moment knelt over a toilet bowl, every hair shaft that had fallen out in my hand, every ice cube I’d sucked to keep hydrated.
With Chase’s hands around mine, I felt alive.
“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa’s jolly voice resounded around the room as he neared the couch. “Angel,” he called. “I’m looking for Angel now. Anyone seen an angel?”
There were giggles around us and Chase’s sisters stood in front of us. My eyes roamed from one to the other, sure that I had double vision. The two of them looked totally identical. Golden brown bangs peeped beneath velvet green elf hats, mischievous blue eyes twinkled, and their red reindeer socks were pulled up to the exact same length.
“Is this Angelina?” asked the one on the right, who was holding a small gift wrapped in silver paper. “Chase?” Her eyes widened as she smiled at him.
“Yes, this is Angelina,” he said back, their eyes flashing at each other. The connection between them was so cute.
She leaned against his knees, her eyes diverted to our hands entwined.
“Hi Angelina, I’m Annalise,” she said, “and this is Karolina.” Her twin moved closer, holding a brightly wrapped gift.