Christmas Miracle

by Patrice Wilton

  “That’s not true. I called the principal a bad name the other day. Not to his face of course.” Meghan put the bottles of wine in the iron rack that sat on the counter. “Nice wine you bought. Too bad I won’t be drinking any of it.”

  “Sorry about that, but I got you some specialty cheeses you like and your favorite pate.”

  “Thank you—but you didn’t need to do that. You have to conserve your money now that you gave notice.”

  “I’ll find a job soon enough. I’m not worried.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Meg said. “You have a good resume, and nurses with ER experience must be in high demand.”

  “Hmm. I’ll get over the holidays and then figure it all out.” Sarah hoped getting a job was the least of her worries. Her breasts had begun to ache and she was tired all the time. Weepy too. Was that a malady of the heart, or a bigger problem?

  “We sure would love for you to stay here in Heaven, near us.” Meghan gave her an earnest look. “It’s been fun having you here for a few days. I could get used to it.”

  “I might.” Sarah forced a smile on her face. “It would be pretty awesome.” She didn’t want to think about her period being late or talk about her problems. “So, back to Mick. We see a lot of soldiers in the hospital, even in the ER.”

  She thought of that poor guy she’d accused today of shoplifting. He’d been a war hero, according to Sheriff Brown. But he’d had that darn hoodie covering most of his face, and ridiculous or not, they frightened her. She’d been followed out of a subway a few months ago by a menacing guy wearing a hoodie, and she’d felt a chill of danger down her back. He’d flashed a silver knife at her—she’d have been attacked for sure if a group of college kids hadn’t caught up to them.

  Still, she knew she’d made a mistake in accusing him falsely—if she’d known he was ex-military, things might have been different. As a highly-trained nurse, she was way too familiar with young American boys who went off to war and came home in pieces; some messed up physically while others carried their wounds deeper.

  “He was in Afghanistan, the Marine Corp. Four tours,” Meghan told her. “I’m so pleased with the progress he’s making.” Her sister looked adorable in black tights and a red Christmas sweater with an arrow pointing at her protruding stomach that said, “Look what Santa brought me?”

  “I’ll be friendly to him, don’t worry. I just thought tonight would be the four of us.” Sarah felt a nagging ache in her heart and rubbed it absently. “I’m not feeling all that social right now, but if he’s your friend, I’ll put my happy face on.” She looked at Meghan, feeling a rush of love. “You always know how to make me feel better. Even as a little kid.”

  “Well, this bruise is going to take more than a little old bandage. It’ll take time to heal.” Meghan gave her a hug. “But I’m so happy that you can spend Christmas with us. Normally you’d be working.”

  “True. But I couldn’t stay at the hospital for another minute. Everyone knew. I could see it in their faces.” She’d had an on again-off again affair with a married doctor who had just announced that his wife was pregnant with baby number two.

  He’d told her they were divorced when she first met him, and then later confided that they were only separated. Over the past year and a half he’d hopped back and forth, keeping them both guessing which one he’d choose. She hated him for it, but herself more. “I’m so embarrassed. Ashamed that I let him use me that way.”

  “I know you are.” Meg stirred the pot on the stove, browning onion in butter for French Onion soup. “I want you to meet a nice guy. Not a married one this time,” she said with a small smile.

  “Never again, I swear.” Her head shot up as she stared at her sister. “I am so over him, that if he walked in here right now and begged, I wouldn’t go back!” She jutted her chin in the air, but felt the stab of tears. Sniffing them away, she added, “And as far as another man goes—no thank you!”

  “Don’t blame you, honey. He was unfair to both you and his wife. Loved you both probably, but didn’t want to give up either of you.”

  Sarah saw the empathy in her sister’s big blue eyes and it only made her feel worse. No way would Meghan ever have slept with a married guy, it would have been against her moral code—and yet she’d never condemned Sarah for it.

  “He was a selfish prick, and only loved himself.” Her back was stiff as she held herself erect. She might have been a damn fool, but a girl had to have her pride. “But let’s not talk about him. Tell me more about our guest.” She put a hand on her hip and crinkled her nose. “This isn’t a set-up is it?”

  “No!” Meg laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Not yet, anyway.” She scratched her nose with her sleeve and thought before she spoke. “He’s different and takes some getting used to.” She grabbed the salt and pepper shaker and sprinkled the seasoning over the onions, then stirred some more. “Little things startle him, and he’s quick to anger, but I believe I’m making a difference, I really do. He’s made great strides, and I’m so proud of him.”

  “How so?” Sarah straightened a couple of ornaments that were drooping on the tree, wondering if Liam would make eye contact. He didn’t. But his dog, a golden retriever they’d named Keats, lifted his head from the boy’s knee and let out a protective growl.

  “Just lately, he’s been doing some volunteer work at Veteran’s Hospital on Woodland Avenue. He takes a train, then uses Uber to the facility. Not sure why he doesn’t buy a car.”

  “Has he got an injury that prevents him from driving?”

  “No. Don’t think so.” Meghan added a carton of low sodium beef broth into the pot she was stirring. “Maybe he’s forgotten how to drive. Hard to imagine, though.”

  “I hate public transportation. In a major city, like London or New York, I get it. But Heaven? Hardly.”

  “Well, maybe you can ask him why when he gets here.” Meghan bobbed the ladle in her direction. “Although he doesn’t like too many questions, especially about his past.”

  “With my emotions all over the map, I’m sure he’s not as messed up as me.” Sarah hitched her butt on the counter stool, admiring her sister and brother-in-law’s new home, festively decorated for Christmas.

  She had arrived two days before, but their reunion had been quite emotional—a lot of talking, a lot of crying, so much so that she hadn’t focused on the new house. Now she could appreciate all the little details that they’d added to make this place a home. Interesting pieces of pottery above the kitchen cabinets, the unique wine rack, the throw carpets that warmed up the wooden floor.

  “You were lucky to find this place. It’s perfect for you.”

  “We were,” Meghan agreed. “Byron was walking to work and saw the realtor’s sign in the yard and jotted down the number. We knew right away that this was the home for us.”

  “The previous owners must have taken good care of it. Your wood floors are in great shape.” The small three-bedroom house was white with green trim on a tree-lined street with a row of other modest homes on the outskirts of town. Location wise, it couldn’t be more ideal. Meghan could walk to work if need be.

  “I fell in love with it immediately. We didn’t even haggle over the price. They let us move right in thirty days later.”

  “That was great.” Sarah yawned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel sleepy all the time. Probably stress, right?”

  “I’m sure it is. When you’re depressed your body is naturally tired. It’s nature’s way to heal. Go take a nap.”

  “I might do that.” She felt an ache in her breasts again. She needed a mammogram, not a pregnancy test, she told herself. But she’d picked one up anyway, just to be sure. “Does Byron know that I’m considering staying in Heaven for good?”

  “I mentioned it, and he’s happy to have you stay with us. He wants what’s best for me and for you. Told him you’d be helpful to me now that I’m pregnant. Free babysitting too.”

  “I’ll find something soon,
don’t worry. I don’t want to crowd your space, and heck, you guys are newlyweds. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “I want you here. We decided this together.” Their eyes locked, remembering the moment that decision was made, and the agony they had gone through. Their parents had died in a tragic accident, and after the funeral they’d decided they should live near each other. She had been in Philadelphia, but Meghan hadn’t found a counseling job right away, and ended up in Heaven, less than an hour away.

  “I loved your old apartment. Maybe I can find something there. Or close by.”

  “That would be awesome, but don’t rush into anything.” Meghan sipped her iced tea. “You can stay here as long as you want. We have the room.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you. I want to be part of your family, your pregnancy, and I’m so lucky you’ll have me.” Sarah went to her room to rest for an hour. When she woke from her brief nap, she did feel better. Everything was going to be fine. She was worrying for nothing!

  After freshening up, she changed into a rose-colored silk blouse and black pants and then followed the delightful scent of dinner roasting in the oven. “Mmm, what is that? Something smells wonderful.”

  “Pork roast,” Meghan told her. “I hope you’re feeling better?”

  “I am. Ready for my first glass of wine.” The house was cozy.

  “I have it opened.” Meghan poured Sarah a glass of red wine just as Byron came through the door. He kissed his wife, then gave Sarah a peck on the cheek. “How are my favorite girls?” he asked, peeking into the pot to see what Meg was cooking.

  “Happy that you’re home,” Meghan answered with a loving smile.

  “Good,” Sarah replied, but he was already bending over to reach for his son. He loved Liam like he was his own.

  “Hey, Liam, how’s your day been?” He kissed the boy’s pink cheeks. Both parents talked to Liam as if he was like any other child, and hoped that their consistent communication would one day open a window for their son. Sarah wasn’t as optimistic, but for their sakes, she hoped so too.

  “He’s had a busy day,” Meghan answered. “Sarah and I took him to the park this morning and the three of us went sledding.”

  “Nice. You did have a fun day.” He tickled the boy’s stomach, making him giggle. Byron used to work nights, but now that he was a married man he insisted on having two evenings off. This was Saturday, and he only worked the afternoon shift.

  Byron tossed Liam over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and re-entered the kitchen. “Onion soup smells great. What else are we having?”

  “A pork tenderloin with roasted potatoes, carrots, and a mushroom sauce. Sarah bought a pie for dessert.”

  He looked at her with appreciation. “Apple or cream pie?”

  “Dutch apple from the bakery. I don’t bake.”

  “Neither does my wife, but she’s a hellova cook.” Liam squirmed and used his hand to batter Byron’s back. “You want down little fella?” he asked.

  “Me down,” he answered. Meghan looked at him with pride for using his words.

  When Byron lowered Liam to the floor, he ran off to his bedroom, Keats nipping at his heels.

  Sarah watched him go and couldn’t help but feel that she was a little like Liam. She didn’t quite fit in, had little to bring to the party, but was welcome and loved anyway.

  CHAPTER THREE

  After returning from the market, Mick took a shower, trimmed his beard, and checked his nails to make sure they were clean. He wore jeans, a blue knit sweater over a white tee, and ran a brush through his recently styled hair. He’d had a ponytail for the last few years, but now it was trimmed around his ears. The gray hairs were new—or he just hadn’t been aware of them before.

  He put on his parka and gloves and left the building. Twenty minutes later, carrying his bag from the market, he knocked on Meg and Byron’s front door. When there was no answer, he knocked again. He heard music and laughter inside, so made sure to knock louder.

  The door flung open, and the blonde girl from the market stood there with a smile that faded when she saw him. “You? You’re Mick?” Her cheeks flooded with color.

  “Oh no!” He backed up a step. “Not you!” What was she doing at the Watts’s?

  Her mouth fell open, then slammed shut. She tossed her hair back and her blue-green eyes frosted over. “This is rather awkward. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

  “Meghan’s your sister?” She nodded, but continued to block the door.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. “That’s a pity.”

  She put a hand on the door frame, locking eyes with him. “You’re still pissed?” she hissed. “Get over it!”

  “When I’m good and ready.” He stood his ground and stared her down. “So? You gonna let me in?” It was easy to see the resemblance, how had he missed it?

  “Oh sure!” She sweetened her tone. “My name’s Sarah, and I’m so, so sorry about making that mistake today. Okay? Can we be done with this?”

  “What you did is not okay. And you don’t look sorry.” The fact that she was a knock-out in every physical way—her face, her silky blonde hair, her long, lean body—all that perfection in this cold-hearted person only made him dislike her more. True beauty came from within, and he’d bet his last dollar that she had a black heart—if she had one at all.

  He hadn’t recognized her earlier but seeing her now he remembered the day Meghan moved in. Sarah had been with her, and the two young women had hauled boxes and suitcases into the lobby. He’d had a rough patch and was coming off a funk—and there they were. Two beautiful, young women full of laughter, full of life—while his was gone. They’d looked at him with fear back then, like he was a thug, dangerous or crazy, someone to avoid at all costs. Sarah wore a similar expression now.

  “I told Meghan I’d be nice to you,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But you just want to make it difficult, don’t you?”

  Before he could think of a rebuttal, she turned and walked away, leaving the door ajar. He watched her ass for a moment, shook his head, and stepped inside. She might look like Meghan, but she didn’t have Meghan’s kind heart and sweet disposition. Sister Sarah was a snake.

  He closed the door behind him and followed the good smells coming from the kitchen. “Meghan,” he said, seeing her at the stove. She turned with a smile and opened her arms for a quick hug.

  “Hi Mick.” She looked him over. “You look awfully handsome tonight. Doesn’t he, honey?”

  Byron looked up from the table where he was fitting a new battery into one of Liam’s toys. “Very dashing. You shaved and cut your ponytail off,” he observed with a grin. “Glad you could come for dinner tonight and meet our Sarah.” He smiled at his sister-in-law. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while. Decided to give up on Philly and is thinking about moving here.”

  Mick flicked a glance her way. “That right? Lucky you.” She gave him a belligerent look and he smirked in return. So he was getting to her. Well, good.

  “Here, Meg.” Mick handed her the bag from the grocery shop. “I picked up a few things for your home, and a little something for Liam.”

  Meghan accepted it graciously. “You shouldn’t have…but thank you.”

  “How’s things going, Byron? Your new digs look great.”

  The entrance had a wood floor, and Meghan had added a colorful mat and some framed photos on the wall. He’d passed white French doors that led to the living room where he could see two sofas, a coffee table and mantel, with a fire burning bright. Looked like bedrooms farther down the hall. The kitchen was modern and spacious with a nook that overlooked the back garden.

  Real nice.

  Byron finished with the battery pack and stood up to clap Mick on the shoulder. “Yeah. We like it here. Nice to have a little more space, and a backyard. We’re already making plans for the summer. Want to expand the deck a little, put in some flower beds, some deck chairs. It’ll be great for grilling.”
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br />   “Damn, I envy you.” Mick rubbed a hand over his freshly shaven jaw. “Can’t remember the last time I had a backyard barbecue. Might have been five, six years ago.”

  “Yeah, they don’t do much grilling in Afghanistan, unless it’s goat meat,” Byron joked, but his eyes showed respect.

  “Look at this, honey.” Meghan pulled the candles out of the bag, and held them up for Byron to see. They were about six inches high and two inches round, with gold glitter and pine cones on the bottom, and sprigs of red holly. “It’s beautiful.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Mick. “Thank you! That was so thoughtful.”

  “Just what we need for the table.” Byron put them in the center of the dining table and they did look nice.

  “There’s chocolate too. And a pre-Christmas gift for Liam.”

  Meg pulled out the unwrapped Lego set. “Look Liam, this is for you.”

  The boy took the present in his hands but didn’t look up or thank him. He just walked over to the tree and put the gift underneath.

  “You brought him the Lego set? The one I got him?” Sarah asked, a frown on her face, her eyes narrowed and accusing.

  “Didn’t know it was you, now did I?” Instead of being sorry, he was now quite happy that he’d purchased the Super Heroes instead of the Pirates—just to piss her off.

  “You’ve already met?” Byron looked from one to the other, realizing there was a story between them.

  “Briefly,” Mick answered, daring Sarah to share the tale.

  “Well good,” Byron said, giving his wife a questioning look. “Let me take your coat, Mick. It’s warm in here.”

  Mick unzipped his parka, slipped it off his shoulders and handed it over. “Thanks.” He nodded at the boy and winked. Liam didn’t respond and that was all right.

  “So Mick, I had no idea you were coming here tonight when I ran into you today.” Sarah was using her artificial voice, pretending to be sugar and sweet—when she really had vinegar running through her veins. “What a pleasant surprise. Why don’t you sit and tell me what you’ve been up to?”