by Kylie Key
She smiled, pulling the blanket around her. “Why’d you come back?”
“I just wanted to make sure you—” I was about to say survived the day, but figured the choice of words wasn’t the best. “Uh, make sure you made it through the day okay. I know you were pretty wiped out.”
“Yeah, I was. But I swear you didn’t send me to sleep,” she said. “I’m sorry for dozing off on you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I joked, “one minute I’m talking, the next your gentle snores rung out around the room.”
“I don’t snore!” she cried out, swiping at me with the edge of the blanket.
“I’m kidding,” I said, catching her hand, holding it, squeezing it. “I’m sorry I bored you.”
We smiled at each other, the moment one I wanted to bottle, to capture for eternity. She was glorious, her face radiant, and I didn’t want to believe that she was sick, that her health was teetering on the brink, dependent on medication to make her well. The uncertainty, the stress had to be debilitating. I couldn’t conceive that she had to do this on her own today.
“If I could I’d take you home with me.” The words came out without thinking. Her eyes widened as if in shock. “I mean, I don’t like you being here alone,” I said, hoping that my meaning hadn’t been misconstrued, that I didn’t sound creepy.
“It’s actually been a fun day,” she said. “I mean aside from the chemo and throwing up.”
“And rattling the patient lounge with your snoring.” I couldn’t resist another dig.
She poked her tongue out playfully, then yawned.
“Ha! I’m doing it again, boring you to tears.”
She giggled, sliding down on the bed, her head hitting the indent in the pillow.
“Thank you for everything today,” she whispered, her voice husky. “And for these.” She held up her wrist, jingling the bell of the bracelet.
“You’re welcome,” I said, choking up. I really hated to leave her; she was mine to protect. “The nurse will kick me out in a minute,” I tried to make a joke but my voice faltered, overcome with a wave of emotion. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re volunteering again?”
I nodded. May had me down for 10 till 4 for the next four days. I’d be through my sentence before I knew it.
Yawning again, she nestled down and I straightened the top cover, standing over her for a moment. She was so close, so kissable, and my heart thundered in my chest.
That smile again, heart-stopping, the desire to kiss her consuming me.
But Angelina was different from other girls, and she deserved more than a hospital bed kiss wearing pajamas. I wanted our first kiss to be special, a vision of us standing at the bandstand in Snow Ridge Botanical Garden, bathed in moonlight.
Ahhh...there were a couple of issues here, first I was assuming that AngeIina felt the same way about me, and since when was I a sappy romantic? I’d never considered kissing venues or moonlight before, yet nothing else would do. The vision was set, and with that I leaned forward. Her eyes followed as my lips pressed on her forehead.
And a smile crossed her face, and her eyes closed.
And I prayed she felt the same way as I did.
Chapter 11
Angelina
I WAS FLOATING ON A heavenly cloud.
Or that’s what it felt like with Chase’s lips against my skin.
Insane really, minutes before I’d been puking up the contents of my stomach—I put it down to the pecan pralines Mrs. Borelli had brought. Hey, it was Christmas Day and so hard to stop at two, or three! But while I had cursed my lack of self control, having Chase kneel beside me holding back my hair made it all worth it. Crazy thinking, but true.
He’d seen me at my very worst, and now he was kissing me goodnight. Yes, on the forehead, but no less special, and infinitely better than the only kiss I’d had on the lips by Jesse Caper back at the Homecoming Dance in sophomore year. I mean, at the time I thought it had been wonderful, and I had liked Jesse, but it was nothing to compare with the chills and thrills that I got from thinking about Chase Masters. He made my body react in ways it never had with Jesse, or any other boy, ever. My heart beat sped up in his presence, my cheeks flushed and my chest tightened, but all in a good way.
And he’d come back to see me on Christmas night! That gave me hope of the fiercest kind.
DAD, PHILLIP AND JAMES burst into my room as Nurse Jeffrey was doing my morning meds. I was now on oral chemo, and all going well, I wouldn’t need to come back to the hospital for treatment for another six weeks.
After three suffocating hugs, Phillip and James poked around at the gifts I’d been given, and Dad checked I had packed everything in my bag.
“We’ve got one mama and two little brothers desperate to see their Angel,” he said.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I dressed and washed up, but my urgency to get home wasn’t as great as it should’ve been. There was a hesitancy to move quickly as I looked at myself in the mirror. I touched a spot on my forehead—the place Chase’s soft full lips had been. Wow, what I’d do for a repeat.
“Let’s get out of here,” Phillip called through the bathroom door. “Mom’s got the cinnamon rolls in the oven.”
I snapped myself out of my daydream. “But that’s not fair! I had a super secret new recipe.”
“Mom would win anyway,” James said cheekily, “she always does.”
“I’m going to beat her one day,” I said.
“I don’t doubt it,” Dad said, his eyes scouting the room. “Now have you got everything? The weather might close in again, so let’s get you home.”
It was still early, five after nine. I had a distinct feeling that I needed to waste a little time—Chase wasn’t here yet, and I wanted to see him before I left.
“Are you going to leave these here?” Dad said, pointing to the Christmas tree and the pink angel on my bedside cabinet.
“The pink angel belongs on the top of the tree,” I said, “did you see the tree in the patient lounge? Can you take her back please?”
“Is she from the farm?” Phillip asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t bring her. Someone else did.” The boys headed out with her, and I herded Dad in the same direction. “You should go see the tree, too. I helped decorate it.” I pulled out my notepad and pen from my small backpack. “And I just wanna leave a quick note for the nurse.”
I didn’t like lying, but as each minute ticked by I realized I was going to miss Chase, and we hadn’t shared phone numbers.
I quickly wrote: Thanks for making Christmas so special. I had a great day! Angelina
And I wrote my number.
It was rushed, but with Dad and my brothers about to return it was the best I could come up with. I folded the note and put it in my pocket. I’d ask at reception for an envelope.
Nurse May was at the front desk as we bustled our way out, Dad in a hurry to beat the incoming storm. She checked that we had the correct instructions for my medication, and I happily went over it all again, even though Nurse Jeffrey had given me all the details less than an hour before. Every time the elevator beeped I jerked my neck to see if Chase was arriving. It was crazy how much I wanted to see him. For once in my life I was pleased to hear Dad giving May an account of the snowdrift that had blocked the road. Anything to waste time.
Nurse Esther came out to farewell me, giving me a hug, and then turned to Marnie, the receptionist.
“Do you know how many volunteers are coming in today?” she asked, making my ears tune in.
“The Borellis, Mr. Simpson, Delia and Chase,” Marnie replied.
“Good,” Nurse Esther said, “Uh, Chase came in yesterday as well, did you know?” I tilted my head in that direction, Dad now droning on about snowplows.
“On Christmas Day? So, that can be added to his hours?” Marnie looked surprised and wrote something down.
“Yeah, he was here at least two, but check with him.”
“I will,” Marnie sai
d, “That will put him over ten already. He’ll clock up his mandatory hours in no time.” She raised her eyebrows at Esther. “That’ll please him, he’ll be able to get back to his snowboarding.”
Esther and Marnie giggled, sending a shiver down my spine. Chase Masters wasn’t volunteering voluntarily—he was doing it out of some sort of obligation. He hadn’t come to see me for the sake of coming to see me—he’d done it to work off his hours! I recalled the first day I’d seen him, his surly attitude, his obvious resentment at having to decorate the tree.
I took a step back, moving closer to Dad, tugging his arm as if we should go. He smiled down at me and put his arm around my shoulder. I reached into my hoodie pocket and touched the piece of paper folded in there...
And I scrunched it up.
Chapter 12
Chase
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S gone?” I stood at the open doorway to Angelina’s room staring at the newly made bed that Nurse Esther and Mrs. Borelli were tucking in. “When did she go?”
“Her father was here early,” Esther said. “Apparently there’s another blizzard on its way, so they wanted to make sure they got home safely.”
“Her dad picked her up?”
“And her two brothers.”
“Was she well enough to go? I mean, she was pretty sick last night. She was still vomiting when I saw her.” They both looked stunned.
“You came back last night?” Mrs. Borelli asked.
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. “I was passing by.”
Mrs. Borelli and Esther smiling at each other was unnerving.
“She was much better this morning,” Esther said, giving me a reassuring pat to the shoulder, “the chemo does make her nauseous but she has medication to help with it. And she was so happy to see her family.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I mumbled, nodding. Of course she would be. I could just imagine Angelina’s joy at going home to the Christmas Tree Farm. She loved that place so much, and she missed her family. Leaving hospital couldn’t have happened fast enough.
There was an awkward moment of silence as I wondered if she’d left me a message, or her number. I cursed myself for not asking for hers yesterday.
But I had thought we had one more day.
Seconds passed—no one had said anything at reception, and Esther wasn’t offering any information now.
“Chase, would you be able to help Mr. Borelli get an extra table? We’re going to set up an arts and craft afternoon.” Esther said. “He’s in the lounge.”
“Sure,” I said, injecting false cheerfulness into my voice. I flashed a smile and walked down the corridor, but it was as if I was taking final steps on death row. An immediate emptiness consumed me. A day without seeing Angelina didn’t seem like a day worth living.
Mr. Borelli waved as I entered the lounge, jovial as always, a Santa hat bouncing on his head.
“Good morning, young man. Good to see you again!” His enthusiasm perked me up for a second as we shook hands. But then I looked up at the tree.
The pink angel sat on the top.
Angelina had given it back.
My heart sunk to the bottom of the deepest sea.
It was a dispiriting thought—Angelina hadn’t taken it with her and was going to forget about me in a heartbeat. She’d go back to her life on the farm, and I’d go back to mine, and our paths would never cross again.
Okay...so when I saw Jordan hobbling in on crutches I realized I was being dramatic, overthinking things. I would be able to find Angelina again—I knew she lived at Smith’s Christmas Tree Farm, and though I hadn’t been there, the rest of my family knew where it was. Or I could look her up on social media, no big deal. And she could do the same—I had active accounts everywhere, it wouldn’t take much to find me.
Though, that put me in another panic. If she did search me, she might find some less than desirable posts. I needed to do a bulk delete. I couldn’t think of any in particular, but there had been some pretty stupid pics posted in the past, the snow dash in our boxer briefs springing to mind. Angelina didn’t need to see that. Or the egging of the Vice Principal’s car. He had unleashed the wrath of the senior class when he gave us all detention for a perfectly harmless back-to-school prank. We’d put Out of Order signs on every bathroom in school, resulting in a bunch of students lining up for the staff bathroom. Not being able to pinpoint the culprits, everyone was punished. (Yeah, we got a second detention for the egging. But we did clean his car for him.)
Mr. Borelli and I were asked to help out down in the records department after that. Cartons of files needed to be moved, and that occupied the rest of the morning. We worked well as a team with me doing the heavy lifting and Mr. Borelli arranging the boxes in order. Mr. Borelli was entertaining, having lots of stories from his days in the deli. I didn’t have a chance to think about Angelina.
Until lunch time.
Mrs. Borelli had made a hamper of ham and turkey subs, so I offered to make the hot drinks. I was becoming quite the barista as I made coffee and hot chocolate, and I kind of enjoyed listening to the Christmas stories. Everyone sympathized when I told them how Annalise had bawled her eyes out when her candy cane had snapped, and we talked about the pressure of Christmas on some families, somehow the conversation shifting back to my Dad’s visit to the hospital. It was humbling to hear people praise my Dad’s efforts for what he was doing to help our town. I felt proud that I’d been a part of it, even though my participation had originally been enforced.
But I knew I’d do it all again if need be. There was an unexpected satisfaction in doing something for someone else; performing a backside 180 on a snowboard gave me a buzz, but it was temporary and no one else got the same kick from it. With volunteering, I could see the appreciation from others, the joy, the spark I ignited because of my effort.
I was making a difference, and it was a feeling I liked.
MOM WAS NOSEY WHEN I got home, questioning me on Angelina’s wellbeing. I downplayed the fact that she’d been whisked off home, citing the impending storm, and prattled on about Jordan finally being able to walk with crutches, and how we played catch in the corridor when May left the ward for a meeting. He had been discharged, but I knew he went to Snow Ridge Elementary, the same school as my sisters, so I’d be able to keep an eye on his progress.
“Where are the girls?” I asked, pouring a glass of milk.
“Upstairs working on their jigsaw puzzle.”
“The 500 piece one?”
“I can’t think what on earth Tillie was thinking,” she sighed. “Except to torture me.”
“What have you been up to today?” I asked, making Mom stop shredding the turkey leftovers. “What?” I asked, her bug-eyed expression disturbing me. “Why have you got that face?”
“I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. But thank you for asking,” she said, ruffling my hair. “If you must know, I took the girls to the rink—”
“With their new skates?”
“Yep, and they did great. Though they both got blisters on their toes. Then we took a pie to Mrs Hampton. And then we stopped at Nene’s.”
“How’s her new chair?”
“She’s loving it,” Mom said, breaking into a smirk. “And it looks perfect in her room.”
“Good.”
“Yep. All good.”
I reached for a piece of turkey meat, popping it into my mouth. “Quit smiling, would ya?” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
She handed me another piece. “I’m just amazed,” she said, “the volunteer work is certainly agreeing with you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I mumbled.
“You know, I loved watching you and your sisters making bracelets together,” she said, and I could sense she was getting a little sentimental on me.
“Hey, I won’t be helping with their puzzle if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said brashly. “No way!”
Mom chuckled. “You’re just a big softie, Chase Masters,” she said.
“Deep down, I know you are.” She tried to tickle me under my chin.
“No, I’m not,” I said, fending her off and taking on a boxer’s stance, throwing a few fake jabs. “Don’t ruin my reputation.”
“What reputation!” Mom scoffed, but she held her hands up as if to block me. We laughed, bobbing and weaving around the kitchen floor like we were in a boxing ring. She’d started attending a boxing class at the gym this year as a way to get into shape, so she had all the moves. “Ha! Gotcha!” she said, backing me into the corner where the cutlery draw was, “Set the table, please!”
The girls came racing in then, leaping up on me, one on each side, and Dad arrived home, his coat dusted in snow, announcing that the snowfall was getting heavier. Usually news of snow got me excited about snowboarding and skiing, but I was thinking of only one thing—that Angelina would be safe at home with her family.
Chapter 13
Angelina
YES, ONCE I WAS HOME and in my little bubble of family and farm, I was able to see things a little more clearly. Being in the hospital had made me emotional, vulnerable, chemo brain clouding my senses. Yes, Chase Masters had swept me up, and being anxious and alone I’d created an imaginary world where I had dared to dream, where I could star in my own fairytale and meet my Prince Charming.
But of course it was never real.
Thank goodness I hadn’t given him my number.
Girls with cancer didn’t get the prince.
Hey, I didn’t even have the guarantee of a happy ending.
Best thing to do was put on my game face and keep fighting my battle. There would be no time and energy to swoon over Chase Masters now that I was home. He had been a nice distraction while I’d been in a tough place, but we would have nothing in common in the real world.
Best to forget that kiss to the forehead, too.
Too bad the friendship bracelets were a constant reminder.