A Very Special Christmas Read online

  From the way Joyce had fixed her gaze on the floor, Claire suspected that "some" was probably an understatement.

  "How much?'' Alex asked.

  "A six-pack on weeknights."

  "What about weekends?"

  Rick shrugged. "Two. Sometimes more. It depends."

  Apparently satisfied by Rick's admission, Alex continued with his questions and examination.

  "So what's wrong with me?" Rick asked when he'd finished.

  "It could be a number of things," Alex said. "First I want blood tests to check for the obvious."

  "What's the obvious?" Joyce asked.

  "Anemia, infection, thyroid problems, diabetes," Alex replied. "We'll also see if we can rule out things like rheumatoid arthritis, lupus and other immune diseases."

  "What if my tests don't show anything?"

  "Then we'll keep looking. But I'll warn you, I'm going to order a lot of things right away, so don't panic if the lab folks take several large tubes of blood."

  Rick nodded.

  "I'd like you to go to the clinic lab next," Alex told him. "I'll fax my order to them, so they'll know what I want. I should have the results in a few days, so let's plan on seeing you toward the end of this week."

  "I'll make sure he's here," Joyce said. "Thanks."

  Alex smiled. "Tell Wendy not to be a stranger."

  Claire followed him into their small medication room where she spent most of her time when she wasn't with patients. As soon as he'd finished writing in Rick's medical record, he handed it to her.

  She scanned the list. CBC, comprehensive chemistry panel with CPK—she'd expected that test because it was a muscle enzyme test—panels for rheumatoid arthritis, lupus and thyroid function, vitamin B12 and folate. She looked up. "What do you think he has?"

  "It's hard to say at this point. Ask me again after the lab sends the results." He grinned.

  "Don't worry, I will." While Alex steadily ploughed through his list of patients, he did so with half his mind on his most pressing problem.

  Claire.

  He wanted to ask her to accompany him to the clinic's party but, after overhearing her conversation with Nora, he knew her answer would be a polite but resounding "no". He and Jennie had used Josh to bring a traditional Christmas tree into her house, but he couldn't use those tactics for the party. He had to think of a way to storm her last wall of defense.

  The question was, what approach would work? Henry had helped by requiring all employees to attend, but Claire's one-hour time limit would be exactly one hour, not a minute more or less, when Alex wanted that hour to stretch into five or six.

  What to do?

  Talking wouldn't help. Clearly Nora had been singing this tune for weeks. No doubt, Claire's family had, too. No, he needed someone else. Someone who'd been there, done that.

  The answer came when he saw Claire usher their last patient for the morning, Edwina Butler, into an exam room. He gave them a few minutes alone, then decided to enter before Claire had a chance to get away.

  "How are you, Edwina?" he asked the mother-to-be.

  "Other than feeling tired and fat, I'm fine."

  "Where's Joe?"

  "1 made him wait outside. His hovering is about to drive me over the edge." Eddie's gentle smile contradicted her exasperated tone.

  "He's only concerned."

  She sighed. "I know. I sometimes wonder if he wouldn't be quite so protective if I hadn't lost our last baby at Christmas-time."

  Although Alex knew the exact details of Eddie's medical history and remembered her reaction when he'd first calculated the baby's due date, from the way Claire stiffened, she obviously had not known about it.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," she murmured.

  Alex took his time listening to the baby's foetal heart tones and hoped Eddie would keep talking. She did.

  "It was bad enough losing the first one, but when it happened again, and during the holidays no less, it was even worse. Now I'm believing that our little bundle of joy this Christmas will make up for the previous ones."

  "I'm sure that he or she will," Claire said. "I understand how hard it must have been."

  "It was worse than hard," Eddie said cheerfully. "I couldn't stand to visit my family and see my sisters' little ones. Months later, I finally worked past that, but when it got closer to Christmas I dreaded the thought of it rolling around again."

  "What did you do?" Alex asked, hoping she would explain, not only for Claire's sake but for the sake of his other patients who shared this sad experience.

  "Nothing at first," Eddie said ruefully. "After I-don't-know-how-many therapy sessions with my minister, he finally said something that soaked in."

  "What?" he encouraged.

  "I had to give myself permission to enjoy Christmas. Hating it, being miserable, and doing everything I could think of to avoid it, wouldn't bring my baby back. He also said that I, as the wife and mother, set the tone for the household. What child, especially one in heaven, wants his or her mom to be miserable, much less to be miserable at Christmas?"

  "He sounds like an insightful man," Alex said, watching Claire out of the corner of his eye.

  "He is," Eddie agreed. "Once I decided that he was right, and I wasn't being fair to Joe or myself, I sat down one afternoon and followed his advice."

  "And it worked?"

  "Yeah. I still had bad moments, but they didn't last long. I didn't recover overnight, but gradually I coped."

  "I'm glad."

  "What amazes me is what happened a few months after I made that choice." Her tummy moved as her child obviously stretched, and she rubbed the spot. "A miracle came our way."

  Alex straightened. "Well, your little miracle seems to be doing fine. I'll see you next week, if not before."

  "She might come early?" Eddie's face shone with excitement.

  "He or she might," he said as he helped her to a sitting position.

  "My word! Wait until I tell Joe." With that, she scooted off the table and hurried from the room.

  Claire hadn't moved. "How could you?" she demanded.

  "How could I what?" he asked, although he knew what she meant.

  She waved her arms wildly. "Get Eddie to talk about her baby and Christmas. Did you plan this ahead of time?"

  "You saw her before I did," he said calmly. "If I'd known how to raise the subject, I would have, but she started talking on her own. Remember? I'll admit I kept the conversation going, but I didn't write the dialog ahead of time."

  Claire's anger faded before his eyes. "Why?" Her voice sounded as if tears clogged her throat. "Why should you care if I celebrate Christmas or not?"

  Alex moved closer and, grabbing her hand, pulled her into a loose embrace. "Because I want you in my life," he said simply. "I want you to go with me to the clinic party and be there from start to finish."

  "Oh, Alex." She shook her head. "I don't think I can."

  "I happen to disagree." He hesitated. "I overheard what you told Nora, and I'm selfish enough to want to convince you by any means available. If I have to use Eddie, I will.

  "You know what I want and you heard Eddie's advice. Think about both, weigh what was said and when you've come to a decision, let me know." He cupped her chin. "I'll be waiting."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  He'll be waiting until hell freezes over, Claire silently fumed as she stormed out and sought sanctuary in an empty exam room. Maybe Alex hadn't orchestrated the scene she'd landed in, but the fact that he would have if he could have irritated her all the more.

  He only wants to take you to the party, her little voice chided.

  And I don't want to go, she mentally answered. I want to be left alone, to spend the holiday as I choose.

  To feel miserable? It won't bring Ray back.

  Those words seemed to echo in her head before she acknowledged the answer.

  No, it wouldn't change the fact that Ray was gone, but was the answer to her own dilemma as simple as Eddie had made it sound? To
simply grant herself permission to enjoy everything the season offered? To enjoy all twelve months, instead of only eleven?

  You came here to start over, remember?

  She remembered, but it had become habit to associate Christmas with sadness. The thought had barely had time to soak in before she realized one key word.

  Habit.

  It wasn't habit, she insisted to herself. Ray's death had robbed her of her joy of the season, but even as she thought of the way she'd once eagerly anticipated the hustle and bustle of Christmas, she could hear Ray's favorite expression.

  You 're not making lemonade with your lemons, Claire.

  He'd been a man who'd rolled with the punches and believed life was for living.

  He'd certainly lived it to the fullest, she thought as she recalled one evening in particular. She'd been busy preparing dinner so they could go to the early show that evening, but in the middle of trying to do three things at once, Ray had come in, taken the spoon out of her hand, shut off the stove top and playfully tugged her onto their patio with its westerly view.

  "You can't miss this sunset," he'd said.

  "But our dinner," she'd wailed. "It'll be ruined, and we'll be late."

  "Sometimes food for the soul is better than food for the body," he'd said before he'd pointed out the spectacular hues in the sky. "As for being late, I don't think any movie can top this."

  He'd been right. In the end, they'd stayed outside long past the time when their meal could be salvaged. They'd even missed both showings that night, but she'd never regretted their change of plans.

  Life was too short to waste a single moment of it, Claire decided. No matter how hard she'd tried to ignore Christmas, it couldn't be ignored. If following Eddie's advice helped her jump over this final hurdle, she would.

  She closed her eyes and said the necessary words aloud.

  Peace immediately flooded over her. The tension she felt from the day when stores began stocking Christmas items disappeared and she hugged her new-found contentment to herself.

  She wanted to tell Alex of her revelation, but chose to wait. She had one more Ghost of Christmas Past to lay to rest.

  Alex tried to read the evening paper, but the words could have been Egyptian hieroglyphics for all the sense he made of the headlines. He'd intended to gently nudge Claire forward, much like he and Jennie had done with the tree, but he was afraid he'd shoved instead, putting more pressure on her than she could tolerate.

  After the incident with Edwina Butler, Claire had kept to herself as she'd carried out her duties, much like when she'd first come to work at the clinic. He was sorry to see her revert to her all-professional demeanor, but he hoped it meant she was simply weighing everything she'd heard from him and from Eddie, not thinking of a way to tell him to find another Christmas-party date.

  She'd avoided his gaze all afternoon, although after he'd finished seeing the fifteen-year-old with athlete's foot, he'd noticed something in her eyes that suggested she'd come to a crossroads. Curiosity was killing him now, just as it had at the time, but he couldn't do anything about it. He'd told Claire to let him know of her decision and, as difficult as it was to be patient, he had to wait. If Lady Luck was on his side, he'd eventually hear good news.

  "Daddy," Jennie said, "the buzzer buzzed. Our dinner's ready."

  He folded the newsprint into a neat rectangle. "It smells good. Did you help Mrs Rowe cook?"

  "No. I had to do my homework early 'cause we're going over to Claire's. She still has to hem my costume, remember?''

  As if he could forget. He usually kept Joshua occupied with toys or a story so Claire and Jennie could work uninterrupted but, all things considered, it might not be a good idea for him to appear on her doorstep tonight. Lying low, giving her space might do more for his cause than not, but would changing their routine hinder or help matters?

  "I remember," he told her.

  "Wendy said at recess that her stepfather is sick. Is he going to die?" Jennie asked.

  Alex spooned a serving of beef and noodle casserole onto Jennie's plate. "I'm not expecting him to. Why?"

  "Just wondering. Wendy doesn't like him much. She says he's mean to her and her mom, especially when he's been drinking."

  He wasn't surprised. "Some people aren't very nice when they don't feel well."

  "I don't think he's nice when he feels good," Jennie said. "He's always yelling. He even yells when I'm there."

  This subject was like quicksand and, rather than find himself sucked into its depths, Alex gave it a wide berth. "Wendy's mother wouldn't have married him if he didn't have good qualities."

  "Wendy says he was nicer before they got married than he is now."

  "Unfortunately, that happens. Sometimes you can't see the other person's true colors until after the honeymoon is over." He could certainly speak from experience. He hadn't realized his ex-wife had been so shallow until their beautiful but flawed Jennie had arrived. He was glad that Donna had left their lives as totally as she had. He'd done everything he could to foster a positive self-image in his daughter and it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Donna would have undermined his efforts if she'd stayed.

  He glanced at the kitchen clock. "We'd better hurry if we're going to be at Claire's by seven."

  Twenty minutes later, after piling the dishes in the sink to soak, they were on their way. Those few blocks seemed like miles as one thought ran through his head.

  Please, let her say yes.

  Claire sat on the living-room floor, surrounded by the decorations she'd hauled in from the web-infested corner of the garage. This time, as she opened each package, the sight of their contents evoked more sweet than bitter memories, but the final test would be the long box at the bottom.

  Joshua toddled back and forth from Claire to the tree, affixing the ornaments she handed him to the branches in haphazard order. When he returned for his next ball and she didn't have it ready, he grunted and stomped one foot.

  "Sorry," she said. "I'll hurry."

  After several more trips and apparently deciding that he didn't need her help, he simply pulled a ball from the box and set it on the branch. When it fell off and rolled under the tree, he bellowed his displeasure.

  "Hang on," she told him as she retrieved the shiny red ornament.

  Finally, the branches were loaded to Claire's satisfaction and only the very top remained unadorned. Sitting on the sofa, she carefully opened the last box and removed the angel.

  Joshua climbed beside her. Standing on the seat cushion, with one hand on her shoulder for balance, he touched the angel's hair. "Mama."

  She hugged him. "The angel looks like Mama, doesn't she? Should we put her on top of the tree?"

  "Top," he demanded.

  Claire placed the angel in Joshua's hands, then carried him to the tree where he placed it, with her help, in the highest place of honor.

  He clapped his hands and chortled. "Pwetty angel."

  "Pretty tree."

  He leaned over and kissed her sloppily. "Pwetty Mama."

  She laughed and nuzzled his neck. "Thank you, my handsome little man."

  The doorbell chimed and she glanced at the clock. "That must be Jennie."

  "'Ennie play." Joshua squirmed and tried to dive to the floor.

  "I have to fix her costume first," she told him.

  "'Les play," he said in an obvious reference to Alex.

  "I'm sure he will."

  It suddenly occurred to Claire that he might not stay like he usually did, that he might feel too uncomfortable in light of her attitude this afternoon. Determined to stop him from leaving if that was his intent, she hurried to the door and flung it open.

  As she saw Alex standing next to Jennie, she'd never felt more relieved. "You're right on time." She smiled as she welcomed them inside and took their coats.

  Alex motioned to the boxes resting in the center of her living room. "Looks like you're in the middle of something. If you want us to come back later
..."

  "No," she said as she hung Jennie's coat in the closet. "Joshua and I just finished."

  "Dad!" Jennie exclaimed from the living room. "You have to come and see."

  Claire followed Alex and watched him study the tree before his attention seemed to linger on the angel. "You did a beautiful job." He turned to her. "I thought you weren't going to decorate it."

  Suddenly feeling nervous, she folded her arms across her chest. "I changed my mind."

  "Obviously."

  "Ray and I bought the angel a few weeks before he died. It was time to let Joshua appreciate it."

  "He will."

  "It looks better on a taller pine, but there's always next year," she said, wishing she could read Alex's thoughts.

  "Maybe you can get one as big as ours," Jennie said.

  "We might. We'll need help to get it through the door, though." Claire met Alex's gaze and wondered if he'd heard the hopeful invitation in her voice.

  "We'll help, won't we, Dad?"

  Alex's regard didn't waver. "I can't wait."

  Joshua tugged on Jennie's hand. "Dwink," he said. "Firsty."

  She glanced at Claire. "Is it OK if I pour him a drink?" At her nod, Jennie led Joshua into the kitchen.

  "My daughter's making herself at home," Alex said. "I hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all." She wanted him to say something else, but he didn't. He wasn't going to make this easy, she thought, but, then, he'd made it clear that the next move would be hers.

  "I'm sure you're wondering what brought this on," she said, motioning to the tree.

  "I'll admit to a certain curiosity." Alex sounded wary, as if he was afraid he might jump to the wrong conclusion.

  "You see," she began slowly, "I heard some good advice today and I decided to take it." She squared her shoulders and hoped he would read the reassurance in her eyes. "I also decided something else."

  "Like what?" He still sounded cautious.

  She inhaled a deep breath. "I'd be honored to go to the clinic party with you next weekend."

  A wide grin spread across his face. "I'd crossed my fingers all day, praying to hear you say that. You won't regret it," he promised.

  "No," she answered softly. "I don't think I will."