A Christmas Peril (The Teacup Novellas - Book Five)

by Moody, Diane

  As I sat back down, an idea started to form in my mind. Why stop with Mrs. Bertolucci’s Christmas cannoli? What if we celebrated Christmas here‌—‌right here in Gary’s room? I looked around, my mind suddenly racing with ideas. I dug a small notepad out of my pocketbook and started listing them all.

  I finished half an hour later just as Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds arrived.

  I practically jumped up to see them. “I’m so glad you’re here! Wait until you hear my plan!”

  “Hey, Sis? What in the world are you smiling about?”

  I snickered out loud as I threaded the satin ribbon to mark my place in the diary. “Hi, Chad. Just lost in Lucille’s world for a while. She’s come up with some kind of plan to have Christmas right there in Gary’s hospital room. Crazy, huh?”

  Chad dropped his coat on the other chair and sat on the edge of Mark’s bed. “I don’t know. Sounds kind of fun. We could do that.”

  “What?”

  “Well, face it, Lucy‌—‌Christmas is just a few days away. And unless your Sleeping Beauty here decides to snap out of it tonight or tomorrow, I think Lucille might just be on to something.”

  I stared at him, my mind already bouncing back and forth between a 1944 hospital room filled with Christmas decorations and brightly wrapped gifts and the room I was now sitting in. A row of floral arrangements lined the window sill, including some wilted purple mums I didn’t have the heart to toss out. I’d taped all the get-well cards Mark had received on the wall opposite his bed. Otherwise, the room looked like every other hospital room I’d ever seen. Plain and dull, and terribly depressing.

  I looked back at my brother. “Y’know, I think you’re right. We could totally do this.”

  “Sure we could.” He plopped his size-13 Nike on his other knee. “School’s out now so I can be your gopher. Just tell me what you want.”

  I stood up and stretched, realizing I hadn’t been out of my chair in a couple of hours. “Good grief. I think my body has started molding itself to this lovely mauve vinyl.”

  “Why don’t you go home for a while? I can stay as long as you need me to. Go take another soak in your tub.”

  “Thanks, but I’m okay.” I wandered over to the window, looking out into the darkness. I shivered, watching the trees bend sideways in the blustery wind. “Looks frigid out there.”

  “Coldest December on record. They’re saying we might actually have a white Christmas this year.”

  “Seriously? I can’t even remember the last time that happened.”

  “I think you were still in diapers, if I recall.”

  “Diapers, huh?” I pinched that tender spot between his neck and his shoulder. It was my favorite sibling target zone.

  “Ouch!”

  “Wait‍—‍” I stopped and looked back out the window. “If it snows, how would we get everyone here to the hospital on Christmas? You know what happens when it snows in this town. People freak out and completely forget how to drive.”

  Chad leaned back against Mark’s legs. “We’ll just have to work it out. I can borrow Pete’s van and haul everybody up here. But we probably ought to get a move on it with the planning. You thinking food? Tree? Decorations?”

  My head started spinning. “Whoa, buddy. You’ve got the cart waaay before the horse. I haven’t even had a chance to find out what Aunt Lucille pulled off in Uncle Gary’s room.”

  “So why not start there?”

  He blinked at me with those incredibly adorable eyes. It was an old trick he used to play back when we were kids. I’d get mad about something, he’d tilt his head just so and blink rapidly, pinning me with that look of his. I fell for it every time‌—‌well, not every time. There was that whole mess with the charcoal fluid in Dad’s shed. No need to bring that up now.

  I shook my head. “Start where?”

  He got up, grabbed Lucille’s diary and handed it to me. “Let’s see what dear ol’ Aunt Lucille had up her sleeve.”

  “You want me to read to you?”

  “You read to Mark, don’t you? At least I’m lucid.” He leaned over to whisper in Mark’s ear. “No offense, big guy.”

  Chad pulled the other chair over and took a seat. He stretched out his legs and folded his arms across his chest. “Fire away, little sister. I’m all ears.”

  I rolled my eyes for effect and opened the book. “Okay, the last thing we read before you so rudely interrupted us‍—‍”

  “My bad.”

  “‍—‍was when Lucille finished her list of things to do just as Gary’s parents walked in.” I looked up at my brother. “I don’t remember ever hearing much about Uncle Gary’s parents, do you?”

  “Lucy, they were dinosaurs by the time we came along.”

  “Hey‍—‍have a little respect, will you? They played a pivotal role in Lucille and Gary’s courtship. Not to mention the heartache they must have experienced through all this. Think about it. Their younger son is overseas flying bombing missions over Europe. Their oldest son comes home on leave, falls in love, then tries to help an old lady in distress, and ends up comatose in the hospital.” I shivered. “Chad, every time I think about the similarities of what happened to them and what’s happened now with Mark, I still can’t believe it. I mean, what are the chances?”

  “I’ll admit it’s bizarre. Especially when you factor in Steve sending you Aunt Lucille’s diary‍—‍”

  “‍—‍so that I received it just a day after Mark landed in a hospital in a coma.” I shivered again. “If this were a book I was writing, the reviewers would nail me for it‌—‌‘Ridiculous!’” I fingered air-quotes. “‘Too convenient to be plausible!’ ‘Absurd!’ Oh, they’d have a field day with it. I’d be lucky to get anything above a one-star rating on Amazon.”

  “But weren’t you planning to write Uncle Gary and Aunt Lucille’s story? Isn’t that your next novella in your teacup series?”

  I stared at him. “Yes it is. Which presents the dilemma of whether to portray their love story accurately, or take some creative license and tweak the story here and there.”

  “Don’t look at me. You’re the writer.”

  I shook it off. “I know. Okay, stop interrupting me or I’ll never get through this.”

  He raised his hands in surrender.

  Chapter 11

  At Chad’s urging, I picked up where I’d left off. “Gary’s mom and dad had just arrived. Okay, here we go.”

  After updating them, I told Mr. & Mrs. Reynolds about my idea to have Christmas right there in Gary’s room. I was elated when they both loved the idea and offered to help in any way they could. We sat down and went over my list, dividing the tasks. I would ask the nurses if they might allow us to use the lounge area down the hall for our buffet. Mrs. Reynolds came up with a marvelous idea to bring enough food to share with the nursing staff on Gary’s floor.

  I must admit it seemed rather strange with all of us bustling about and Gary still lying there, completely unaware of any of it. I fought a constant battle inside my heart. On the one hand, I felt relieved to have something to do, something to look forward to. But on the other hand‌—‌for lack of a better word, I felt guilty. As though I were ignoring Gary. Such peculiar mind and heart games.

  Father found the cutest little Christmas tree which we placed on the wide window ledge in Gary’s room. Mrs. Reynolds brought some small ornaments and short strands of cranberries and popcorn. Mr. Reynolds brought a radio and found a station that played nothing but Christmas carols‌—‌a welcome relief from all the war news.

  Mother Nature cooperated with a lovely snowfall; pretty enough for a picture postcard, but not so much that would interfere with our families coming to the hospital for our festivities.

  On Christmas Eve, Mrs. Reynolds insisted on staying with Gary overnight so I could go home and freshen up for our party. I was exhausted but at the same time energized with anticipation. Still, once I had everything ready and crawled into bed, I fell sound asleep for hours.

&
nbsp; The next morning I put on my emerald swing dress with a large green-and-white pinstriped bow overlapping the square collar on the right shoulder. The full A-line skirt fell a couple inches below my knees. It was my favorite winter dress, perfect for the holidays. I arrived at the hospital at 7:00. Mrs. Reynolds said Gary had a restful night. I could tell she was trying hard to keep a light heart, but I recognized the sadness in her eyes. A few moments later, she left for home, assuring me she and Mr. Reynolds would be back with Christmas dinner in a few hours.

  I could tell the housekeeping staff had stopped by, leaving a fresh clean scent in their wake‌—‌a welcome relief from the strong aroma of bacon and eggs wafting through the hall as food services delivered breakfast to Gary’s neighbors on the floor. It always made me a little sad, catching a whiff of those meals, whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Gary loved to eat. “Food is much more than mere nourishment, Lucille!” he’d once proclaimed. “A well-cooked meal is to be celebrated! Enjoyed!”

  I’m not so sure he’d say the same about those meals rolling by his door.

  I stayed busy adding some last minute decorations. I placed some of my favorite nutcrackers on the ledge beside St. Nicholas. Mother had insisted I bring “the Christmas candle,” a strange old thing that had been photographed in every family Christmas picture for as long as I could remember. I set it on the small table beside Gary’s bed. I turned it this way and that, apologizing to Gary for how pitiful it looked.

  I lingered, slowly taking a seat on the edge of Gary’s bed. I brushed back a lock of hair from his face, then traced my finger along his strong jawline. A twinge of sadness crept back in, so I kissed his stubbled cheek and looked for something else to do. Spotting the radio, I decided a little music would surely help keep my spirits up. As I adjusted the knob, an orchestral rendition of “The First Noel” played quietly.

  Perfect.

  I still had some time before the others would start arriving, so I reached into the bag I’d brought and pulled out the small box. I took my seat there beside Gary again.

  “Obviously, I didn’t have time to get you a present. I trust you’ll forgive me, Lieutenant, especially since you weren’t even supposed to be here for Christmas. If I’m completely honest, I have to admit I’d rather you were thousands of miles away and healthy than to be here with me like this. I try not to think about that too much.” I shook my head. “Anyway, this morning before I left the house, I saw this sitting on my dresser and decided to bring it with me.”

  I opened the lid and lifted out the teacup and saucer‌—‌the Christmas set Gary had surprised me with that day at Marshall Field’s. “I haven’t used it yet, and I decided I want you to be the first to drink from it. I know it’s silly, but I don’t care. It meant so much to me when you gave it to me that day, and I just thought . . . well, I guess you could say I’m putting all my hopes into it. Hoping you’ll wake up and celebrate Christmas with all of us today.”

  I set the cup and saucer on the table beside the old candle. “It will be our tradition. Years from now when we’re old and gray, we’ll share a cup of Christmas tea together on Christmas morning. Who knows, maybe we’ll collect a whole set of these dishes. Wouldn’t that be fun? And each year we’ll remember how‍—‍”

  “Good morning, Miss Alexander.”

  I turned to find Gary’s doctor approaching us. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Pembleton. How are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. The nurses told me about your plans today. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Looks nice in here.”

  “Thank you.” I stood, smoothing my skirt. “It’s helped having something to do. Something to look forward to.”

  I watched as Dr. Pembleton started his routine examination of Gary. When he finished, he tucked Gary’s chart under his arm and started heading back toward the door. He smiled‌—‌the kind of smile doctors give you when there’s nothing new to report, nothing encouraging to say. I didn’t bother asking.

  “Well, I for one think it’s a great idea to have your Christmas here. Always good to keep a positive outlook. Especially during the holidays.”

  “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “That’s most kind, but I’ll be heading home once I make my rounds. We’ve got a house full of relatives and a lot of gifts under the tree waiting to be unwrapped.”

  “Do you have children? Grandchildren?”

  “No grandchildren yet. Our two daughters and their husbands arrived last night. Our twin sons are both overseas. Josh is stationed in England with the 8th Air Force, and Justin is on the USS Saratoga somewhere in the Pacific. We’re trying to carry on as usual, but we miss them terribly.”

  “I hope they’ll be home soon. I hope all our boys over there can come home soon.”

  He smiled briefly. “That would be the best Christmas present of all, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it would.”

  He opened the door. “Take care, Miss Alexander. I hope you and your family have a nice time today.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Pembleton. You too.”

  Over the next couple of hours, our families arrived with armloads of our favorite holiday dishes‌—‌turkey with all the trimmings, cranberry salad, fresh-baked yeast rolls, and enough desserts to feed an army. I was so pleased the hospital staff eased their rule about underage children for the day, allowing Jack to join us. When he first laid eyes on Gary, his little chin trembled as he asked all about his injuries.

  “Can he hear us, Lucille?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I’d like to think so. I talk to him all the time. Would you like to say something to him?”

  Jack shook his head and backed up against me. “No.”

  “That’s okay, little buddy. How about you and I go take a peek at some of those yummy pies and cakes in the lounge area?”

  All things considered, in spite of the circumstances, it was a wonderful Christmas. It truly was. What had been an afterthought‌—‌inviting the medical staff on Gary’s floor to share our Christmas meal‌—‌turned out to be such an unexpected blessing. A double blessing, actually. I’m sure most of them would have preferred to be home with their families instead of working a holiday shift. So for us, it was a chance to thank them on this special day for taking such good care of Gary.

  “There’s your answer.”

  “Chad, I’m not finished reading this section.”

  “I know, but you’ve read enough for now. You wanted to know how Aunt Lucille moved the family Christmas up to Uncle Gary’s hospital room. Now you know.”

  I closed the diary and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know. I’m not sure we should try this.”

  “Why not? Have you got someplace else to be on Christmas?”

  “Don’t be such a brat. Of course I’ll be here. But I’m not her, Chad. Aunt Lucille’s hostessing skills were legendary. She was the poster child for multi-tasking before anyone even knew what that was. It’s like she had the Midas touch for making ordinary situations into extraordinary celebrations. To her, everything had possibilities. The simplest, most mundane activity was reason enough to celebrate.”

  “Makes you wonder if all that might have started right there.” Chad pointed to the diary in my lap. “Maybe she learned the importance of celebrating regardless of the circumstances. Regardless of the inconvenience or how scared you are about something.”

  I just nodded, trying to make sense of it all.

  Chad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And maybe, just maybe,” he began, a lazy smile curling his lips, “your beloved namesake is offering you some hope in a hopeless situation. I’ll admit, it would be a whole lot easier to think of that book in your lap as a work of fiction as opposed to such a freaky coincidence traveling through time.”

  “I know! Look at me‌—‌I’ve got goose bumps just thinking about it.”

  “But the thing is, I learned a long, long time ago that there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Someone once said coincidence i
s God’s way of remaining anonymous. I think there’s a lot of truth in that.”

  “Whoa . . . I love that.” I scratched the back of my head. “I could write a full-length novel based on that concept.”

  My brother laughed. “Yeah, you could do that in a heartbeat, Lucy. All I’m saying is, let’s look at this as a providential gift from Aunt Lucille‌—‌and just run with it. Why not?”

  I jumped up. “You’re right, Chad. Why not?” I grabbed my laptop and powered it up. “This is good. This is really good. It’ll keep my mind occupied. Just like Lucille. It’ll give me something to do. Okay, let’s come up with some ideas and then divvy up the list.”

  I shuddered. Like a 3.5 on the Richter scale.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just‌—‌that’s almost verbatim what Lucille wrote in her diary after coming up with the idea. When Uncle Gary’s parents showed up that morning, she sat down with them and divided the list.”

  “Fine, let’s just keep the earthquake references to a minimum. We’ve got enough to deal with as it is.”

  Chapter 12

  Over the next couple of days, I tag-teamed with Shelly and the Christophers, taking turns staying with Mark so we could get everything ready in time for our own version of a hospital Christmas. I had to admit it was good medicine. I couldn’t remember a Christmas I’d looked more forward to. Strange, isn’t it? My boyfriend is in a coma, and I’m baking cookies and rounding up decorations and strings of Christmas lights. It felt a lot more like business as usual, even if it wasn’t. And after all we’d been through, I welcomed it like a soothing balm on the craziness of the past few weeks.

  After Mark’s parents left on Christmas Eve night, I finally had a chance to sit down and relax. I insisted on staying overnight with Mark. Even with all the distractions, I kept getting emotional at the most random times. Like this afternoon when I realized I’d forgotten to pick up some Poppycock‌—‌the gourmet popcorn that comes in clusters with a caramel glaze. Mark loves Poppycock, especially the pecan praline flavor. I went to four different places and they were all out. Said they’d been sold out for a week and didn’t expect to get any more in time for Christmas.