A Christmas Peril (The Teacup Novellas - Book Five) (11 page)

“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.

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 8
^th
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 is 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.”