Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014

by Joyce Livingston, Gail Sattler, Joyce Livingston

  He glanced at the nurses walking back and forth, some greeting him with a smile. Perhaps he would need to swallow his indignation at being chased by this colorful flock in their printed smocks and find a smiling face willing to help him with Gram. Maybe something could be gained from all the attention.

  He noticed a rather tall nurse brush by him, rolling her cart of linen supplies in the direction of his grandmother’s room. She turned and gave a smile before flinging back her dark blond hair.

  “Hi, Neil. How’s it going?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, startled that she knew his name. Had they met before?

  “I’m Trish, and I’ve got your grandma for the evening.” She pulled out her notepad with scribbles on it. “Usually I work days, but I’m pulling a little overtime tonight. Is there anything she would like this evening?”

  “Actually, yes. There’s something I need.”

  The nurse straightened, her eyes wide, as if ready to give him anything he wanted. Any other time and he would have cast the interest into the dust. Not this time. He planned to make full use of it. “I was wondering. Are you by chance off this Christmas?”

  “Why, yes, I am.”

  “You’ve probably already made plans though, right?”

  “Nothing that can’t be changed, of course. What’s up?”

  “I’m looking to hire a nurse for a few days to take care of Gram at my mother’s house. It will be sort of her big Christmas gift, you might say. Would you be interested? I’ll pay five hundred a day for three days.”

  Trish’s eyes lit up. “Wow! Sure, I’d love to take care of your grandma. I pretty much know her routine, you see, since I take care of her a lot.”

  Neil sighed in relief, thankful he had solved his dilemma. But he couldn’t settle a nagging sensation of doubt rising up within. Was that God nudging his heart? The truth be known, he wanted Debbie to be Gram’s nurse. There was something about her that intrigued him. He could tell she loved the residents and wanted to care for them in the best way possible. But he couldn’t have her. She was already taken. Besides the fact, she was mad at him. He brushed away the feeling and offered a small smile. “Great, thanks. We’ll talk over the specifics at a later date.”

  “Let me give you my name and cell number,” she said, hurriedly writing down the information on a slip of paper before tearing it off and handing it to him. “If you want, maybe we can grab a bite to eat sometime, and you can fill me in on all the details.”

  “Sure,” he said, stuffing the note inside the pocket of his overcoat before heading into Gram’s room.

  She sat in her wheelchair, humming a tune along with her favorite record. Immediately she paused, lifted her head, and smiled. “Hello, Nathaniel.”

  “Hi, Gram.” He gave her the usual welcome kiss.

  A frown settled on her face. “Oh dear, what happened? The boss give you trouble? Was it the traffic? Is it snowing out? Someone told me there may be another snowstorm soon.”

  “No, just gray skies out.” He pulled up a chair and plunked himself down. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  Gram turned in her wheelchair and sniffed the air. “You went out somewhere. . .to dinner maybe? Did you eat out with a young lady? Oh, I hope so. It must get very boring eating with an old lady like me every day. You need to get out more.”

  Neil turned red and shifted in his seat. He never considered that his coat would carry the scent of the coffee shop. With Gram’s loss of sight, her senses of smell and hearing were quite keen. “I did go to the coffee shop,” he admitted.

  “Who with?”

  “The nurse I helped on the road yesterday.”

  Gram beamed. “Wonderful! I’m so glad, Nathaniel. Did it go well?”

  “Uh, not really. I mean she’s nice and everything, but she’s. . . uh, she’s not the right one for me.”

  “Oh, honestly. You take a girl out once and think she’s not right for you? Don’t be so picky. Take her out again. For my sake.”

  “Gram. . . ,” Neil began. A choking sensation filled his throat. “Please don’t pressure me like this.”

  Immediately she shrank down in her wheelchair and became quiet.

  Neil exhaled a loud sigh. “I’m sorry I said that. If it means so much to you, I’ll take her out again. As it is, we really didn’t talk about anything. . .that is, anything personal and all. It was more like a business conversation.”

  “Oh, give it a chance. Talk about things she likes. Be that considerate man I know and love. I’m sure she’s pretty, too.”

  Neil considered Debbie’s characteristics—her cheeks tinted pink by the wind, her blue eyes shining in the fading sunlight, the way she smiled over her cup of hot chocolate with the steam caressing her face. “I guess so. I didn’t look at her in that way.”

  “You take her out again and then introduce me to her. I’ll know if she’s the right one for you.”

  “Gram, you’re something else.” He chuckled and leaned over to plant another kiss on her cheek.

  “I’m more than something. I’m the one who’s going to make sure you aren’t alone in life.” She paused then. He thought he saw tears gathering in her eyes. “To be left alone is the worst thing in life. Don’t ever let it happen to you, you hear me?”

  Her face at that moment remained branded within him—that hollowed look of loneliness. He was glad he had decided to arrange for her to be home for the holidays. Her words confirmed the plan—and perhaps other ideas that now began to well up in his thoughts.

  ❧

  Debbie was glad to leave work on time at the end of the regular day shift. She headed straight for home, glad she didn’t run the risk of seeing Neil outside the facility. The scene at the coffee shop still rubbed her nerves raw. Why did she have a problem with this anyway? Was she that desperate to be noticed by a man, like all the other nurses? Wouldn’t it be better to yield such desires to God, who was quite capable of handling all the issues of her life?

  Despite the emotional pain of her falling-out with Neil, at least her back seemed to be on the mend. Using a handheld mirror, Debbie could make out the bright blue and purple pattern left by the pavement. I look like a genuine stained glass ornament, she observed with a chuckle. The comment made her think of her Christmas decorations in storage in the basement of the small apartment building. With the few snow flurries floating around outside the window of her apartment, Debbie decided that Christmas decorating would help her forget her troubles and shift her moodiness to the joy of the upcoming holiday.

  Dragging up the two boxes from storage, she rested for a bit to calm the aching in her back. Inside one box were ornaments, a music box, and a treasured Nativity set made of porcelain that immediately took a prominent position on the lamp table. The other box held an assortment of lights in one tangled ball of wire and bulbs thrown into a plastic bag. Debbie put on a CD of her favorite Christmas carols and set to work untangling the mess. I should have done this the right way and put these strands back in their proper packaging, she thought. But the mere idea of trying to press two hundred lights into the plastic prongs of the light boxes made her shudder. So now I pay the price.

  Hoping not to push her frustration button, which she didn’t need to do right now, she delved into a gusty rendition of a Christmas carol that drifted out of the stereo speakers. “O come, let us adore Him!” she sang. “O come, let us adore Him. . .”

  “O come, let us adore Him. . .Christ the Lord,” a deep voice echoed in reply.

  Debbie set down the light strand. A chill swept through her. She hurried to the front door and peeked through the security hole to find Neil standing there, covered in a dusting of snow. She opened the door to the living snowman who waved his leather glove at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, listening to the
carols. I figured the best way to make my entrance known was to sing along.”

  “I have a doorbell.”

  Neil shrugged. “I rang it a couple of times, but it’s hard for door chimes to compete with Christmas carols. They sound like they’re part of the music.”

  Debbie stepped aside, allowing him in. He seemed different today—joyful, interested, witty. He took off his coat and hung it over a chair to dry. “You’re in the Christmas spirit, I see,” he said, noting the tangled web of lights on the carpet.

  “This is a royal mess, actually. Do you want to thaw out over a cup of tea? I have different flavors, like peach.”

  “Peach tea would be great, thanks.”

  Debbie entered the kitchen, fumbling to put a mug of water in the microwave. She could not recall the last time a man had graced her humble abode, except for the days of Tonya and Brad. And that was a time she’d rather forget. She dipped a teabag into the mug decorated with a bear in a nursing uniform before presenting it to Neil. He chuckled when he saw the design. “Sorry about the mug. My family thinks it’s cute to give me mugs with nursing stuff on it. I get a new one every year for Christmas. I have eight of them. So you’re kind of stuck with it.”

  “Do you plan to continue working at White Pines?”

  “I guess so. There’s nothing else I can do right now. I have a few college credits to my name, but no other degree.” She plopped down in a chair and put her feet up on a stool. “I suppose I could go on and get a real nursing degree if I had the money and the time.”

  “Being a nursing assistant probably doesn’t pay much, though.”

  She shrugged before scanning the small, one-bedroom garden apartment. “It’s enough to pay the bills. Of course I can’t buy new things. I get hand-me-downs from the family. Or I check out the Salvation Army store for bargains out of the bin.”

  “Old relics never die,” he said with a nod. “Look what you get nowadays—plastic mailboxes or even blow-up furniture. There are hardly any of the old wood drawers around any more, or stuffed armchairs that never wear out. If you can believe it, I have several old pieces inside my place.”

  “Really?”

  “Got them at an antique store. Oh sure, my sister, Sandy, rants that I need to go contemporary. Black and white, I guess. But I like older stuff. It lasts much longer, even over brand-new. All one has to do nowadays is poke a pin through one of those blow-up sofas and watch it sail out the window.”

  Debbie suppressed a laugh. All the ideas she had conceived from their earlier meeting at the coffee shop likewise had flown out the window. She enjoyed hearing how he preferred old furniture. He certainly wasn’t a stuffy, stick-your-nose-in-the-air type of person used to a lavish lifestyle. In fact, he seemed relaxed, easygoing, even tempered. A great catch. Maybe. She breathed out a sigh, determined not to go that way, to keep her expectations in check. One step at a time.

  Neil picked up several strands of lights knotted together. Slowly, with an overwhelming patience that amazed her, he began the tedious task of untangling the lights. “I should get a few boards for you to wrap the strands around when the season is over,” he remarked. “Then you won’t have to deal with this again.”

  Debbie turned to her own set of tangled lights, hoping he didn’t see the flush creeping into her face. He was being too kind. Surely there must be some other motive for this impromptu visit. “So why did you come tonight, Neil? Like I said at the coffee shop, I can’t help out with your grandmother at Christmas. Switching with others is out. And if I don’t show up, I’ll likely be canned.”

  “I know. You told me.” He paused, surveying the knot of lights. “This is more complicated than some of those jigsaw puzzles I used to do with Gram when I was a kid. Boy, was she a whiz at putting them together. Put me to shame.” He gave a tug. “Anyway, there is a reason I came barging in here like this.”

  Here it comes.

  “I didn’t like how we left each other at the coffee shop yesterday.”

  Debbie stared in amazement.

  “I can tell you were kind of put off by what happened. And I don’t blame you.” He set down the clump of lights to take a swig of the peach tea.

  “Well, you didn’t pull any punches. You came right out and told me the reason for splurging on the hot chocolate. I guess chocolate and hiring nurses do go together.” Debbie frowned at her rising irritation. “Sorry. I guess I was put off. I was hoping it would be more of a friendly kind of thing, you know. Not that I don’t understand what you were trying to do. I mean, having your grandma come home for the holidays is very noble. I’m glad you want to do it. Really.”

  “I’ll admit that was my main goal. But looking back on it all, I realize I didn’t go about it the right way. I guess, at the moment, with the idea fresh in my mind, I wanted to make it work. I think it would make a great gift for Gram, something money can’t buy—the idea of Christmas with the family, singing carols, watching an old Christmas movie, even roasting a chestnut or two.” He looked at her with the most beautiful coffee-colored eyes she had seen in a good, long while. And she liked the small tuft of dark hair that fell over his forehead. “We all have our traditions, I guess.”

  “We have traditions. In my family, we always started Christmas Eve night by going to our favorite barbecue place. Then Dad insisted on taking us on a grand tour of the lighting displays. This one place had a fantastic illumination with every sculpted light and plastic figurine known to mankind. They must start decorating as soon as summer is over. Dad used to do some big decorating when we were kids. You know, stringing up those lights with the megasize bulbs. He even made a model of a church once.” Debbie caught herself when she realized how easily she had launched into her childhood with such eagerness. She’d never shared memories like this. With the girls at work or church, it was things like clothes or activities. This was new, different, even exciting. And especially with Neil here, soaking up every word.

  “I’d like to see a big display like that sometime,” he said. “And barbecue is one of my favorite foods. I would travel down to North Carolina just to get the real stuff.” He returned to the lights and managed to untangle a long strand that spanned the length of the room.

  Debbie pulled over the chair, ready to climb up and tack them around the windows. Neil stood below, feeding her lights as they continued to talk about Christmas memories. In an instant, everything else faded but the twinkle of lights and a handsome man helping her decorate her apartment. Could this really be happening? Well, why not? Why couldn’t she relish the thought of a man helping her decorate and enjoy every bit of it? Why did she need to bask in past disappointment? The days of Brad and her roommate, Tonya, were long gone. They had their own lives. And she had hers, which was becoming even more interesting as time slipped by. Time to let go of the past and embrace the future.

  They stood together, observing the lights for a moment longer, before Neil went for his coat.

  “Thanks for helping me with the decorations,” Debbie said.

  “Hope you aren’t mad anymore about the coffee shop scene.”

  The flush in her face returned, hotter than ever. “I’m not mad. Not really. I just have to work out a few things, which don’t have anything to do with you. Besides, I think what you’re doing for your grandmother is great. I’m sure she will be thrilled by it all.”

  He nodded, a small smile breaking out across his face. “Maybe we can do the hot chocolate thing again sometime. Start over. Get back on track.”

  Debbie nodded, unable to speak. When he said good night, Debbie felt another rush of warmth invade—and not from the millions of lights now warming her home or the tea inside her tummy. It was the warmth of a good night to a sweet and considerate man. Good night and sweet dreams. And she knew who would dominate her dreams tonight.

  Four

  “Oh, Debbie, dear! Your boyfriend is
calling you.”

  Debbie paused in midstride, carrying a tall stack of linens to make up the beds inside a room. How she wished she could just think about the meeting with Neil in her apartment a few nights ago. Instead, the craziness of work consumed her. Nearly all the residents seemed overdemanding, asking her for this or that. There were numerous accidents to clean up. Several refused to eat, forcing her to alert the head nurse, Mrs. Whitaker.

  Trish looked into the room, a sardonic smile plastered on her face. Debbie knew she couldn’t possibly mean Neil. No one knew about him, not that he was her boyfriend, by any means. Maybe soon he would enter that arena, if all went as planned. It did irk her some that she hadn’t heard from him since the evening he helped her untangle the Christmas lights. She hoped they weren’t at another impasse. She thought the evening had gone pretty well. And he had left it open-ended, with another coffee or chocolate meeting to come in the near future.

  Suddenly Debbie heard a loud voice echoing down the hallway. “Shore up that line! Get to the top of the ridge on the double. I know the Germans are coming. We’ll get murdered standing here. Move on out!”

  Trish leaned against the door frame. “Mrs. Whitaker asked if you could calm dear Harold down. I guess you have a knack for that kind of thing. He probably thinks you remind him of his girlfriend from the 1940s or something.”

  Debbie gritted her teeth and plunked the stack of linens on a bed. How she disliked Trish’s demeaning ways. She could certainly think up a good retort, were it not for Christian virtue that made her bridle her tongue. She prayed for patience as she brushed by Trish to hear the racket that grew louder as she approached. When she peeked inside Harold’s room, she found the poor man sliding halfway out of his wheelchair. His hair stood up like a wild man, his face unshaven. She exhaled loudly. Harold was Trish’s patient, no doubt. He bore all the telltale signs.