Christmas On Nutcracker Court

by Duarte, Judy

  Susan had met him a time or two, when Stan and Donna Ferris had brought him home for a weekend, but it hadn’t gone well. Ronnie had been agitated and noticeably troubled, which had made Susan uneasy. Eventually, the Ferris family had realized that Ronnie was happier with his friends and caretakers at Lydia’s House, in the surroundings he’d become accustomed to over the years.

  It was then that Susan had realized that Hank was even more uncomfortable around his older brother than she’d been.

  She tried to reassure herself that Ronnie would be comfortable, that he wouldn’t cry or strike out at people here, but she had no idea what to expect from the other residents.

  It’s only for an hour or so, she told herself. She’d make an excuse to leave, and it would soon be over.

  When she reached the front door, which had been adorned with a holiday wreath hung by a big red bow, she raised her fist to knock, then spotted the bell and rang instead.

  Moments later, a stocky young woman with Down syndrome opened the door. Her dark hair had been woven in a French braid and tied with a green ribbon that matched her green velvet dress.

  “Merry Christmas,” she said with a bright-eyed smile. “Come to the party.”

  Susan stepped inside the estate, which had been decked out in holiday splendor. People milled about, but it was easy to differentiate the residents from the guests.

  They’re just like you, Maggie had said.

  Still not convinced, yet wishing it was true, Susan followed the woman into the house, where holiday music played softly.

  Without warning, the woman stopped short and turned. “Do you have a friend who lives here? I can take you to them.”

  “I’m a . . . Well, I’m a friend of Ronnie Ferris.”

  “I know him.” The girl bit down on her lip. “I think he’s upstairs. He can’t come down yet.”

  Was he throwing another fit? Agitated like before?

  Susan glanced at her watch, making note of when she arrived and when she could make her excuse to leave.

  “What’s your name?” the woman asked.

  “Susan. How about you?”

  “I’m Stephanie. I live here. And I helped make the sugar cookies.”

  Susan reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for being such a good hostess.”

  Stephanie beamed at the praise.

  Just like you . . .

  “That’s a pretty dress you’re wearing,” Susan said.

  Stephanie gave a little curtsy. “Edna made it for me. My daddy and my sister bought the . . .” She glanced down at the green velvet, then tugged at it.

  “The fabric?”

  Stephanie nodded. “Yes, and she made my slip, too. Do you want to see it?”

  Susan smiled. “No, you better not show me here. But I’ll bet it’s pretty, too.”

  “And it’s soft.” Stephanie bent over, lifted the hem of her dress anyway, and revealed a white satin slip trimmed in lace. “See?”

  “Very nice. I wish I had a pretty dress and slip like that.”

  “I can ask Edna. She’s going to be here today. So is my daddy and my sister.”

  “I’d like to meet them.”

  Stephanie beamed. “They aren’t here yet. That’s why I’m waiting by the door. My sister is going to play the music, and we’re going to sing.”

  “Cool.”

  Stephanie nodded, then brightened. “Want me to show you where to put the cookies?”

  “That would be nice.”

  Moments later, after being led to a large dining room, Susan was instructed to hand her plate of brownies to a woman wearing a Christmas apron. She introduced herself as Tanya Sullivan, the mother of one of the young men who lived at Lydia’s House.

  “Don’t these look yummy?” Tanya said. “My son is going to love these.”

  While Susan looked over the spread of goodies on the dessert table, Barbie joined her and slipped an arm around her. “I’m so glad you came, Susie. Come on, I want to show you around.”

  As Barbie gave Susan a tour of the kitchen, the library, and the classrooms where the “kids” learned life skills, she took time to introduce various residents along the way, each one decked out in holiday attire, their smiles as bright as Stephanie’s had been.

  Maggie had been right; those who lived here were just like the Lils in many ways, but they had a childlike innocence and honesty that Susan had lost years ago.

  Instead of taking a seat in an out-of-the-way place and waiting for the time she could make an early escape, Susan found herself glad that she came to visit and looking forward to the party.

  Of course, she’d yet to see Ronnie Ferris.

  A bit curious about why he hadn’t joined the party, Susan said, “Stephanie, the woman who answered the door when I arrived, told me that Ronnie hasn’t come downstairs yet.”

  “We thought it would be best if he rested until the party got underway.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “He’s been diagnosed with heart failure and tires easily,” Barbie said. “In fact, we’re afraid this might be his last Christmas.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So are we. He’s been a special part of our family for a long time, although some people might not understand that.”

  Hank certainly hadn’t.

  And as a result, neither had Susan. Sadly, for the first time since their marriage, she felt remiss by that and decided an apology was due. “I’m also sorry that Hank and I weren’t more . . .” She wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. She wasn’t sure that “compassionate” was the word she was looking for, since Hank had always been generous with his checks to the foundation, something Susan had never minded.

  “Hank had a difficult time accepting Ronnie’s limitations,” Barbie said.

  “Do you think he was embarrassed by his brother?”

  “Somewhat. And then . . .” Barbie paused. “Well, after his engagement to Brittany, it became even more of an issue.”

  “His engagement?”

  “You didn’t know that he’d been engaged to someone else before the two of you were married?”

  No, he’d never mentioned it to her.

  The stunned look on Susan’s face must have been a dead giveaway to her utter surprise, because Barbie went on to explain. “Hank was in his third year at college when he met Brittany, and he fell fast and hard. By the time Christmas rolled around, he’d given her a ring and had invited her to Fairbrook to meet the family. I’m not exactly sure what happened while she was in town, but she broke up with him and flew home earlier than she’d planned.”

  “Did Ronnie have something to do with their split?”

  Barbie glanced around as if checking to see that their conversation was private. It was, but she lowered her voice anyway. “Hank never actually said, but that’s when I noticed him distancing himself from Ronnie—and from the rest of us, for that matter. My folks and I can’t help thinking that Brittany was afraid that she and Hank would have a baby with genetic imperfections, although we don’t know that for sure.”

  Barbie looked to Susan, as though seeking some kind of confirmation. But even though she’d suspected that Hank was afraid to have a child for that very reason, he’d never come out and actually said it. So she kept that to herself and just listened.

  “About the time Hank and Brittany broke up, he began to insist that Mom and Dad find a home for Ronnie.”

  “Is that why your brother’s here? Because Hank pushed your parents to place him in a home?”

  “Not really. They knew that there was only so much they could do for him, and they also knew that they were getting older and wouldn’t be alive forever. So they started checking out various facilities. But when they toured Lydia’s House and saw all they had to offer, as well as how happy the residents were, they knew it was the right place for Ronnie.”

  From what Susan had seen so far, she suspected that they’d been right.

  Barbie glanced at her wristw
atch. “I’d better check and see what’s keeping Ronnie’s caregiver. He’s supposed to be bringing him downstairs in a wheelchair.”

  “Where should I wait?” Susan asked.

  “Mom and Dad are out on the lawn, so that’s a good place to meet. I know it’s a little chilly outside, but Ronnie likes to walk the grounds with us whenever we come to visit.”

  Before either Susan or Barbie could make a move, one of the residents, a young man, cried out, “Look what I found!”

  Susan turned to see him stooped over and picking up a coin that had been lying on the floor. When he straightened and lifted up a penny, he burst into a grin. “It’s a lucky day.”

  She thought of the ditty she’d learned as a child: Find a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.

  “Congratulations,” she said with a smile.

  The young man glanced at the penny in his hand, bit down on his bottom lip, then looked at Susan and grinned. “Here, you can have it.”

  “Oh, no.” Susan wasn’t about to take away his joy or his treasure. “You’re the one who found it.”

  “But it’s Christmas. And it’s good to share.”

  Barbie slipped her arm around the young man and gave him a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Joseph. And you’re right. When you give love or share your blessings with others, there’s always enough to go around.”

  Susan thought about Maggie’s magic treasure story. How strange that someone who might be considered mentally challenged understood a concept she was just now grasping.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Barbie said, “I think I’ll go get Ronnie myself.”

  Minutes later, Susan found Stan and Donna Ferris outside, seated on a concrete park bench near a fountain. As they greeted each other, Donna thanked her for coming. “It will mean so much to Ronnie to have you here today.”

  Susan didn’t think that was possible. She’d only been around the man a few times.

  Moments later, Barbie approached them, pushing her brother’s wheelchair. Ronnie, who was in his late fifties and balding, wore a bright red vest, a white T-shirt, and dark sweatpants. Susan hadn’t seen him in years, but she would recognize him anywhere.

  She reached out and patted his arm. “Hi, Ronnie. You probably don’t remember me, but my name’s Susan.”

  “I know you,” he said. “I have pictures.”

  “We gave him a photo album one year for Christmas,” Donna said, “and we bring him pictures of the family to add to it.”

  So her in-laws had been keeping Ronnie abreast of his brother and sister-in-law, even if they hadn’t taken time to visit him themselves. The thought—or worse, the reality—was heartbreaking, and tears welled in Susan’s eyes.

  “He asks each year who’ll come to the party,” Stan said, “so we were happy when you told Barbie you’d come.”

  One tear slipped down Susan’s cheek, followed by another, and she swiped them away with her fingers. “Well, I promise not to miss any more parties from now on.”

  “Guess what,” Barbie told her brother. “Susan brought brownies. And she made your favorite recipe—the ones with the chocolate fudge icing.”

  At that, the man smiled. “I like brownies.”

  Susan’s cell phone rang, and as she tried to silence the ringtone, she glanced at the display. It was Rosa.

  She probably ought to ignore the call, but Rosa wasn’t one to chat. So Susan said, “Excuse me. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll shut off my phone completely.”

  As she flipped open the lid, she spoke into the receiver. “Hi, Rosa. This isn’t a good time for me. Can I call you back later this evening?”

  “Susan, this isn’t Rosa. It’s Carlos.”

  That was odd, Susan thought. “What’s up?”

  “Rosa . . .” Carlos’s voice cracked, and it seemed to take him a moment to continue. “She’s unconscious and on her way to the hospital in an ambulance. I have no idea what’s wrong with her, but I thought you and her other friends should know.”

  Susan’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “I’ll be right there.”

  Then she turned to provide the Ferris family with a real excuse to leave, one that was far better than any she could have imagined when she’d first arrived—a reason she no longer wanted to have, yet couldn’t ignore.

  “One of my dearest friends is being rushed to the hospital,” she explained. “I’m sorry, but I need to be with her. Please forgive me for leaving. I’ve had a wonderful time. And I’d love to come back and visit again soon.”

  “I understand,” Barbie said.

  Tears welled in Susan’s eyes to the point of overflowing again, and as emotion balled up in her throat, she responded with a nod, then headed for the door.

  On the way out, she spotted the elderly couple she’d met at the soup kitchen—Stan and Edna Grainger—coming toward the house.

  They moved slowly to accommodate Edna’s walker, as did the people accompanying them, a tall, rather attractive man and a red-haired girl who carried a guitar.

  Susan stopped briefly to say hello, then quickly excused herself and hurried to the car.

  “Dear God,” she prayed. “Please don’t let Rosa’s illness be serious.”

  The thought that it might be critical, that her friend might actually die, was too scary to comprehend.

  Maggie and Lynette entered the double doors to the Pacifica General Hospital ER, which was filled with a hodgepodge of people waiting to be seen or for patients they’d brought in. As the women hurried to the reception desk, Lynette’s heart was pounding so hard she could feel the pulsation in her head.

  Thank goodness she hadn’t needed to make this trip alone.

  Before Peter had passed away, he’d spent two days in the ICU, which had left Lynette feeling uneasy in a hospital setting. The day he’d died, she’d sworn she would avoid medical centers unless she was a patient and had no other choice. But that was before she learned of Rosa’s collapse.

  “Excuse me,” Maggie said to the receptionist behind the desk. “A friend of ours was brought in by an ambulance. Her name is Rosa Alvarado. Can you tell me if she’s still here or if she’s been admitted?”

  “Let me check.”

  It felt as though they’d waited for hours, but it was only a matter of minutes when the receptionist said, “Her husband has been taken to a private waiting room. I can show you where he is.”

  Moments later, the women were led through a security door and down a hall to a small waiting room, where Carlos sat, his face pale, his eyes wide.

  “What happened?” Lynette asked.

  “I don’t know. We were at the soup kitchen, and she was washing dishes. I was talking to her about Christmas Under the Stars and told her that I wanted to have another meeting. She argued with me, but I’d insisted. And . . .” The man who’d been leaning forward, with his forearms resting on his thighs, began to tear up. “It wasn’t a big fight.... I didn’t raise my voice . . . But she . . . gripped her chest . . . and . . . crumpled to the ground.”

  “Was it a heart attack?” Lynette asked.

  “I’m not sure. They won’t let me in the room with her.” Carlos lifted his head, yet his shoulders remained slumped. “I always thought that I’d be the first of us to go, but if she . . .” He focused a tear-filled gaze on Lynette, then turned to Maggie. “What am I going to do without her?”

  Lynette didn’t know how to answer him. She’d lost Peter, and while she’d grieved his passing, they hadn’t been together as long as Carlos and Rosa had. And they probably hadn’t loved each other as much, either.

  “I can’t believe this.” Carlos slowly shook his head. “After all the time we’ve spent on the less fortunate and the time we’ve given to charity . . . Well, it’s just not fair.”

  In a sense, Lynette felt the same way Carlos did. The Alvarados did more in a week for the community and the church than Lynette, Helen, or Susan did all year. Rosa still had work to do on earth. Why would God let this h
appen? Or if worse came to worst, why would He take her away?

  Maggie eased forward and placed a hand on the anguished man’s shoulder. “It sounds to me as though you think you made a deal with God, and that He didn’t hold up His end of the bargain.”

  “It’s not as though we entered into any kind of covenant,” Carlos said, “but I followed the rules and obeyed His commandments. That should be enough. . . .”

  “To earn a ticket to Heaven?” Maggie asked.

  Lynette’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Was Maggie suggesting that Rosa was going to die, that she was receiving her just reward?

  She certainly deserved it, but what about those who loved her? Those left behind? And what about all the people she’d helped—the homeless, the poor, the downtrodden? Surely her work on earth wasn’t finished.

  “Heaven is a gift of grace,” Maggie said. “You can’t earn your way there.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Carlos said. “But didn’t Jesus say, ‘Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto Me’?”

  “Yes, He did. And we do that out of love for Him and obedience to His Word, not as a means to secure our place in Heaven.” Maggie took the chair next to Carlos. “I don’t know why this happened or what the outcome will be. But you need to slow down on your volunteerism. All the work took a toll on Rosa’s health.”

  Carlos seemed to ponder her words, then ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I pushed her too hard. And earlier, at the soup kitchen, I argued with her. She was telling me that she was tired, that she didn’t think another meeting was necessary, and I refused to listen.”

  “Rosa has been breathing hard and dragging herself from one event to another for months. And while she didn’t complain—”

  “She shouldn’t have had to,” Carlos said. “I should have seen the signs, and I failed her.”

  Before either Maggie or Lynette could say anything else, a man wearing a white lab coat entered the room. “Mr. Alvarado?”

  Carlos got to his feet. “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Jacobi. I’m afraid your wife has had a heart attack.”

  “Is she going to . . . be okay?” Carlos asked.