by M. K. Gilroy
She was all he wanted for Christmas too.
He couldn’t believe he would be lying close next to his wife and unborn baby all night.
After a shower of course.
He smelled of travel. The deodorant had given out at least sixteen hours earlier.
He tiptoed to the bedroom door. He would move next to her and whisper her name. She’d know it was him. He wouldn’t scare her. They had a connection.
“Holly,” he whispered. “Holly-baby. It’s me. I’m home.”
He turned on the light. The apartment was empty.
Did she go to her Mom’s? Was she at church? With friends?
The idea of surprising her was great theoretically, he thought.
But I should have called her.
24
Ten Minutes Earlier
Was he dreaming? His head ached. He thought the bleeding had finally stopped. He looked over. How old could she be? Nineteen? Twenty? Maybe twenty-one?
He felt a stab of pain between his eyes and clinched them tight.
It had been years since he had prayed and he wasn’t sure he knew how anymore. He just repeated, “Dear God, we need your help,” over and over.
He heard the chirp of a phone again. Not his but he was certain it was in the backseat. Might be someone worried about her.
The nice lady up front had pulled out her wallet and found the girl’s driver’s license and insurance card. She had given that information to someone in the ER at St. Elizabeth.
He reached into the coat pocket closest to him and pulled out the phone. The call was from Brad. Husband? She wasn’t wearing a ring. But sometimes women had to take their rings off in the month before having a baby he seemed to remember. But who knows today. Maybe a boyfriend. Or brother. Or friend. Not her dad. He would be “Dad” in the phone.
He hit the green button but the call had already gone to voicemail.
Call him back?
Someone she knows needs to know what’s going on.
He hit the callback link.
“Holly, where are you? Baby are you okay?”
“This is Joe.”
“Who?”
“Joe.”
“Where’s Holly?”
“Who are you?”
“Her husband! Who are you?”
“I’m going to have to take your word for it. This is a good thing, right? You two are together and getting along? No problems? No court orders?”
“What are you talking about? Where is Holly?” he nearly shouted.
“Long story. Do you have wheels?”
“I took a cab from the airport.”
“Why are you traveling when your wife is about to have a baby?”
“I’ve been in Afghanistan! What is going on here?”
“You’re at the apartment?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice not so confident anymore.
“We gotta get you over to St. Elizabeth. You’re about to be a dad. You are the dad aren’t you?”
There was silence.
“Bad question. Sit tight. I’m going to call a friend. We’ll get you over here as quick as we can.”
“Is she there now? Is everything all right?”
“Long story. Let me make the call. Be watching for headlights in the parking lot.”
He put her phone in his pocket and pulled out his own. He punched a preset number. It rang three times before a voice answered groggily, “Hello?”
“Dennis, you know how you told me you owed me big time?”
“Yeah?”
“I need a favor right now. And I mean right now.”
25
Just Before Midnight
Roger slumped back in his car seat, his eyes closed.
“You okay?” Margaret asked him.
“I think I’m ten years older than I was this morning.”
“I don’t think we’re going to make our flight.”
“What flight? You know we don’t like to travel during the holidays.”
She leaned his direction and laid her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her. They just breathed for a couple moments.
An ambulance drove off. A stretcher rolled by. A young man limped in the ER by himself. They barely noticed.
“You did good Roger. The nurse said she’s going to be fine.”
“I wasn’t so sure.”
“Neither was I.”
“You get out and go on in, Maggie. I’ll park the car. We’ll find out. I’m not going anywhere until we know.”
He got out of the car to open the door for Margaret.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to.”
It was a well-practiced routine they had done together for forty years. They both smiled.
As he walked her to the sliding door—he even held electric doors for her—a taxi slid into the emergency lane next to the ER entrance at St. E and smashed the back of his beautiful almost new sleek BMW.
Unaffected, a soldier in desert camouflage and a deep summer tan hopped out the back and ran past Margaret.
Roger and Margaret looked at each other stunned.
The driver got out next. He looked dazed but unhurt. He stared at them in disbelief, shaking his head from side to side. They couldn’t help themselves. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
I don’t lie to my wife. I’ll tell her I had to buy the fist-class tickets. I just might wait until summer.
I’ll tell him tomorrow like I promised myself, Margaret thought. Of course, it’s already tomorrow. But I don’t want Roger to think about the C-word on Christmas. I’ll tell him the day after Christmas for sure.
Postlude
December 25
Just After Midnight
Regina poked her head in room 124C. Less than thirty minutes. Maybe a hospital record. Unbelievable. A beautiful young woman held her baby boy. Next to her was the proudest father she had ever laid eyes on. Just like all of them. Two cab drivers had their butts on the windowsill. They looked uncomfortable but seemed unwilling to leave, even after she hinted that the new parents and baby might want to be alone now.
They don’t belong here, but the scene wouldn’t be right without them.
A handsome couple somewhere in their 60s was there too. She assumed grandparents but was told they had never met the girl before today.
The strangest Christmas Eve she had experienced in her fifty-two years on earth, Regina thought. She looked at the clock, reminded that the calendar had now turned to Christmas.
St. E’s ER did get busy, but not as busy as expected. With the extra staff pulled in everything was under control.
Except her nerves.
What have you done Donny? Were you in the car that hit this girl?
She stepped out in the hall and there were her two men at the end of it, next to her station, sitting in a pair of desk chairs they’ve pulled together. Their heads were close together. They were in serious conversation and didn’t notice her walk up.
Douglas jumped up and grasped her in a bear hug, the one she loved so much. Regina was mad at him and wanted to push away, but couldn’t. She rested her face against his chest.
“Sorry about giving you a hard time on the phone,” Donny said awkwardly.
“Who is sorry?” Douglas asked.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Donny said.
Now mother and son are both uncertain. Awkward. They manage a sideways hug.
She didn’t want to ask but had to: “So where were you before midnight?”
“With dad.”
She looked at Donald with surprise. He nodded yes.
“Where?”
“At church. We went to JavaStar and talked a couple hours. Then we went to Christmas Eve service.”
“Donald, you about scared me to death. Your message said you were out looking for him.”
“No it didn’t.”
“You specifically said you were trying to connect with him.”
Father
and son looked at each other.
“Mom, we were out talking. Trying to connect, you know? Connect.”
“You weren’t out with your friends?”
“Uh, no. I was grounded.”
“And you followed that directive even though your dad was out?”
“He was gone less than an hour Mom.”
“About an hour longer than he should have been,” she said, now looking at Douglas.
“I had to pick up a present for you and I knew Donny would stay in.”
“We agreed we couldn’t afford presents this year.”
“That’s why I brought you this.” He handed her a lanyard with a laminated ID that had his smiling face on it. “I don’t start until after the New Year, but the new boss said I could pick this up to show you and make it a merrier Christmas.”
That’s when she lost it and started sobbing.
“Don’t get too worked up. It’s still a pay cut from what I was making.”
“I’m not crying because you got the job,” Regina said.
Some of the sobbing was out of guilt for thinking the worst about husband and son. But her sense of relief was overwhelming. Not because her husband found a job, but because she got the feeling that maybe she was going to get her son back. She sobbed because deep inside, hidden away, she was finding some of the joy and peace she hadn’t felt in such a long time.
“You came home, Brad.”
“I did. To you and my baby boy.”
He lifted the bundle from her arms. He had to hold his son again. He marveled at the tiny pink fingers.
“Joe.”
“Yeah Dennis?”
“I need a favor.”
“I think I owe you one now.”
“You do.”
“What do you need?”
“A ride home. And you need to back me up on what happened with the boss.”
“You got it. I can do that.”
“By the way, this is sweet and all. But can we go now?”
“Thank you.”
Joe was almost outside the door when he heard the soft words.
He turned toward mother and father and baby.
“I need to say something to you about earlier today,” he started to stammer out.
“Please don’t,” she said. “You saved my life. You saved my baby.”
“Doesn’t mean that what I did at the coffee shop was okay.”
Brad looked from Holly to Joe and back to Holly, puzzled.
“Then just let me say you’re forgiven before you ask for it.”
“Thank you. I needed that.”
“So did I. So do I. I got a few issues of my own to clear up.”
“Me and Dennis got to go. But let me just say again, congratulations; you are a beautiful family. Brad …”
Brad looked up from the baby and into Joe’s eyes, brimming with tears.
How many times can I cry in one day?
“Never forget how blessed you are. Never take it for granted.”
Brad handed the baby back to Holly to go and shake hands and say thanks to the man who turned around and found his wife in the snow.
But Joe was gone.
Joe knew he was still so far away from where he had been, but he had taken a few more steps on the road back tonight.
“When they saw the star,
they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.”
—
Matthew 2:10, King James Version
Mark “M.K.” Gilroy is a veteran publisher who has worked with major authors and acquired and created an array of bestselling books and series.
When not writing Detective Kristen Conner novels, he creates book projects for publishers, retailers, organizations, and businesses as a freelance publisher.
Gilroy’s debut novel, Cuts Like a Knife, quickly garnered critical acclaim from national media, bloggers, and readers—and hit #1 at Barnes & Nobel (BN.com).
The Kristen Conner Mystery series now includes Every Breath You Take, Cold As Ice, and releasing in February 2016, Under Pressure.
Gilroy is a member of the prestigious Mystery Writers of America. He holds the BA in Biblical Literature and Speech Communications, and two graduate degrees, the M.Div. and MBA.
Gilroy is the father of six children. He resides with his wife Amy in Brentwood, Tennessee.
M.K. Gilroy Novels:
The Kristen Conner Mystery Series:
Cuts Like a Knife
Every Breath You Take
Cold As Ice
Under Pressure—coming Spring 2016!
Connect with Mark at:
www.mkgilroy.com
www.markgilroy.com
www.facebook.com/MKGilroy.Author