Christmas, Actually: The Christmas Gift / The Christmas Wish / The Christmas Date

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE DAYS SLIPPED BY, and Christmas drew ever closer. Jack performed trauma surgeries, did his rounds and collected toys for children in the hospital, as well as those whose families needed a little help this year.

Each afternoon at three, Santa’s sleigh, drawn by two massive farm horses, glided to a halt on the snow-covered green. Santa alighted from his seat and fell happily into the swarm of children demanding candy canes and chocolates as they offered gift ideas for themselves, their siblings and friends.

Jack had started parking his truck a few miles east to avoid Santa and the adoring youngsters. But he couldn’t forget the old days, when he’d worked as an EMT during breaks from school. His ambulance had often sat on the green to be on hand in case of emergency. Sipping hot chocolate from a stand near his post, he’d enjoyed the shouts of a puppy for my baby sister and a little brother and a fire engine that shoots water. Some asked for video game systems with names that were already unfamiliar, because he was too busy to play any kind of game.

Now, his friends would be taking their own children to see Santa, and next year, Sophie would likely take their baby to visit a Santa in Boston.

Someday his little girl might be a pint-sized video game wizard.

In a few days he’d be playing Santa at the hospital. His grandfather had done the job until he couldn’t drive the blue truck over there anymore. Jack’s dad had taken over, but this year, Jack had to fill in. He dreaded it. Happy children who had no idea what existed in the world outside this town pretty much unmanned him, but he couldn’t let them down.

He veered toward the green, parking close to the square. Listening to the sounds of Christmas might help him brace himself for an evening as the hospital’s jolly old elf. It was the way he’d gotten used to being around families before he’d lost that little girl in surgery. He’d helped with rounds on the children’s floor, walked through the common, even eaten dinner out.

He glanced at his watch. Five minutes before three.

He reached the holly-covered fence just as the gates opened for Santa’s sleigh. Jack was about to walk through one of the decorated arches when he noticed Sophie, one foot on the fence’s bottom rung, laughing as the children surged forward in a line that snaked with their exuberance.

The Victorian carolers that strolled through Christmas Town from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Day burst into “Here Comes Santa Claus.”

Sophie’s laughter was a temptation he couldn’t resist. She included him in her joy, as if she’d expected to see him. “Could they be more on the nose?”

“The kids love it,” he said. Best he could manage when he was breathing her in, like a man starved of oxygen.

“So do their parents. Look how happy they all are.”

He always saw; it was part of his self-administered therapy. Families survived. Fate didn’t draw a target on everyone who dared to be happy.

Sophie pointed to his scrub pants. “Are you headed for work?”

He nodded. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m losing my cynicism,” she said. “This is the most holiday-loving town in the world. You people are genuinely excited to embrace Christmas.” She gave him a teasing, sidelong glance. “Well, most of you, anyway.”

“You want to hear something funny?” It didn’t feel at all funny, with his throat closing up and his head aching every time he thought of it.

“I’d love to.”

“I’m the hospital Santa night after tomorrow. We give the children on pediatrics a Christmas party every year.”

“You’re Santa?” Her surprise got under his skin, but he couldn’t blame her. “I don’t understand you,” she said, stepping away from the fence.

Each time he saw her, he was more tempted to explain, but what if he said he’d try? What if he said that, deep down, he felt as protective of his child as she did, and that paternal compulsion had driven him to leave her and stay away? “Maybe I’ll see you before you leave town.” Cutting off whatever she’d been about to say, he headed for the truck.

“Jack,” she said.

He turned back.

“I hope you imagine her face as you hand out each present.”

He snapped his head away, to hide pain like a blow to the gut. If he could stop imagining their daughter’s face, abandoning her would be so much easier.

* * *

FROM THE MOMENT Jack had said he was going to be Santa, Sophie knew she’d show up for the toy distribution. She’d never felt a need to punish herself before, making her decision to go as inexplicable as Jack’s own behavior.

But her car would be repaired soon. She’d never have to see Jack again, and maybe watching him playing Santa for children who had no claims on him would finally convince her he was right.

She offered to gather the last few toys out of Esther’s collection box while she waited for a cab.

“Thanks for taking these.” Esther piled them into a canvas shopping tote. She sighed as she patted the bag, smoothing it into a less lumpy shape. “I love this town. It’s full of caring people.”

“Do you?” Sophie didn’t see the town in quite that way, but Jack’s behavior had colored her view. He was saving himself by abandoning their daughter.

She wasn’t like Jack. She couldn’t turn her back on someone without trying to fix whatever had gone wrong.

“We try to help each other,” Esther said. “Just look at the green. How many places in this world do you know where everyone in town donates a good amount of money and time every year to do something that’s nice for the children?”

Sophie took the bag, smiling. “If you aren’t head of the tourist board, they’re suffering a great loss. The adults seem to enjoy it, too, and the tourists are growing ever thicker on the ground.”

“You’ll understand soon. You’ll be even happier at Christmas once you’re sharing it with your own kidlet.”

If only Jack could see that. “There’s my taxi.” Sophie waved as she went through the door. “See you later, Esther.”

“Sing extra loud for me.”

The carolers in their Victorian finery were already making the walls echo when Sophie stepped off the elevator on the hospital’s third floor. Dr. Everly came over to greet her.

“I didn’t expect you. Everything okay?”

Sophie held up her bag as she shrugged out of her coat. “I had a few things to deliver,” she said.

“Oh, good. Always room under the tree.”

Sophie added her packages to the impressive pile. “There aren’t this many children in the hospital?”

“Whatever we don’t give out we take to the green for distribution later.”

“Where’s Santa?” Sophie focused on folding her bag.

“Waiting until all the children arrive. He doesn’t dare show his face early. There’d be a riot.”

“How did Jack end up playing Santa?” she asked.

“His grandfather used to play Santa, and now his dad does, but his parents are touring the country in an RV during the holidays. No one expects them back.”

Sophie still didn’t understand that. Instead of providing a polite answer, she waited in silence, hoping Dr. Everly would explain. Sophie was eager for any tidbit that might explain Jack’s behavior.

“They took care of Jack’s grandmother for years. She had debilitating epilepsy that couldn’t be controlled by medication. She endured several experimental surgeries and I don’t know how many drug trials. Nothing worked, and when she couldn’t be left alone, the whole family pitched in. She passed away recently, and the elder Bannings took off for the first time since I’ve known them. I think they didn’t know what to do with themselves.”

“When did his grandmother die?” Sophie already knew. The “business trip” he’d taken in May. He’d disappeared for nine days, and when he came back, he’d been jumpy and moody, and had made excuses to avoid spending time with her.

If only she’d taken the hint then.

“I think it was just before...oh, I know. The week my children got out of school, end of May.” Dr. Everly guided Sophie toward a table with punch and cookies set out on plates stamped with The Tea Pot’s logo. “He’d hate us discussing him.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Maybe her desperation, even for her baby, didn’t make snooping acceptable, but at last his story was starting to make sense.

They both sipped punch, and Dr. Everly introduced her to members of the hospital staff, who’d also brought their children to the event.

Everyone sang. When a small group of pajama-and-robe-clad children began to recite “’Twas the Night Before Christmas,” the festivities had started. Nurses and doctors drifted among the little knots of young patients, passing out treats and punch. Sophie joined in. Even her own little girl seemed to understand she was at a party. The fluttery sensations intensified, lending Sophie strength and smothering her guilt over badgering Dr. Everly.

The carolers offered a few more selections until the children began to fidget, growing impatient for the big arrival. Sophie couldn’t blame them. What little child hadn’t firmly feared Santa would never come?

CHAPTER EIGHT

IF HE HAD to hear one more Christmas carol... The cheerful voices and hopeful lyrics were bitter enough to make Jack want to cancel the holidays. He couldn’t wish anyone a merry, merry anything, and he was sweating inside the Santa suit.

All those children out there. Waiting to see him.

Hopeful, happy, expectant.

They weren’t waiting for him. Just for the man he was playing.

As he’d played a strong, decent man for Sophie, until she’d actually needed him. If she could see him now, she’d have to agree he was right about keeping their child out of his life. He’d worked himself into a cowardly sweat over pretending to be a nonexistent hero for sick children, kids who were depending on him to be a plausible Santa Claus.

He shaped the pillows beneath his coat, eased the furnacelike beard over his moist upper lip and opened the door before he was tempted to head back to Boston instead of doing one simple job that his family expected him to complete.

Jack saw twinkling lights, colorful presents beneath the tree and a red velvet bag bulging with the gifts the volunteers had gathered for him to distribute.

The singing stopped. The chatter stopped. The children stopped.

Their faces turned as one. Joy shone on some, disbelief on others. Most terrifying of all, some of these innocent babies looked at him with naked hope.

“Ho, ho, ho.” It sounded pathetic and weak to him, muffled by his beard. No one else minded.

Cheers and shouts and laughter rang out, and the children flooded his way as if he were the best surprise ever.

The breath left his body in a gasp only he could hear. He was light-headed, but stayed upright by sheer force of will.

Laughter became the scream of rockets launching. Shouts became the whistle of tracer bullets passing by his ears.

He saw a face, small, bloody, in pain.

He reeled back, thankful to have his backward plunge stopped by the red bag he was supposed to haul around the room.

Again, the children didn’t seem to notice, but, hyperaware, Jack witnessed the looks tossed between his colleagues. Georgette Everly looked at Sophie as if she might know what was going on.

Sophie didn’t seem to catch the doctor’s silent question. She’d already begun to weave toward him, through the knots of happy children.

“Did you forget your elves, Santa? I’ll help you with these beautiful presents.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder, gripping him in a way that dragged him into the present. He didn’t even care that she must feel the perspiration soaking him underneath the jacket. He took the chair she pushed his way, and let her fish the first few gifts from the sack.

On each tag, a code noted whether the gift was for a boy or girl, and another sorted it by age range. He stared at the letter and numbers, unable to put it all together.

“Boy, seven to nine,” Sophie whispered next to him, already diving for the next gift.

He called a boy up and handed it over, managing small talk that made the child laugh. Jack and Sophie kept up the act, with him avoiding his curious colleagues until he recovered his composure enough to focus.

Sophie stayed with him as he took the last of the gifts to the children too ill to walk up to him.

After everyone received a gift and good wishes, he went to the goody table.

“I might take a couple of these delicious cookies for my reindeer,” he said. “I’m sorry this hospital won’t let them in to visit with you children, too. I hope you’re all feeling well soon. Thank you for having me at your party today.” He gave a much jollier “Ho, ho, ho” and returned to his makeshift dressing room, amid a chorus of goodbyes and Merry Christmases.

Sophie slipped in behind him, hugging the empty red velvet bag. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you ill?”

“I’m fine. You should go before I have to explain what you’re doing in here with me.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re not safe to drive. Where are you going from here?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Let me check your vitals.”

He knew what she’d find. His pulse was sky-high and his blood pressure probably made a stroke seem like his next destination.

The memories he’d been fighting made him unsafe. Sounds and faces and pain he was keeping at bay by pretending he didn’t hear, see or feel them. He just needed to look normal long enough to push Sophie out of his escape route.

“I’ll take a ride if you can drive my truck.”

“Are you kidding? I learned on a stick. My mom and I thought we were so cool, driving around in her old Rambler.” Sophie nodded at his red suit. “Are you changing clothes?”

“Wait here. Don’t go back out there.”

“Whatever, Jack.”

He slipped out the back door and headed for the bathroom. Sophie didn’t understand. His neighbors in this small town tended to be nosy. They’d want to know why the nurse he’d never admitted knowing had followed him from the party.

He wrestled with the Santa costume, breathing deeply as he got his head out of the jacket. It wasn’t just panic and memories. That getup was hot.

Sophie was waiting, her coat over her arm, when he went back to the office where he’d left her. They headed to the elevators. When the door opened, they joined two other surgeons already back in scrubs. As the elevator stopped at their floor, one of the men turned back.

“Good night, Santa.”

“Ho, ho, ho.”

Laughing, the two men went their separate ways and the doors slid shut.

“Feeling better?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah.” Jack wasn’t about to discuss what had happened.

“You’re doing me a favor. I’d have to take a cab if I wasn’t riding with you.”

“Drive to the B and B. I’ll be fine to go the rest of the way to my house.”

“Oddly, the pregnant woman is steadier than you right now, and it’s barely a block to walk.” She held out her hand for the keys as they exited the hospital.

Once they were in the truck, she started the engine and reversed smoothly. Soon they were on the two-lane road back to town. She drove toward his town house near the square.

“This is a Christmas gift. A parking spot in front of your home.”

Sophie’s good cheer didn’t quite mask her steely mood. Something was on her mind. He’d gone along with her wishes so far, but he was losing patience.

“Thanks for the ride.” He held out his hand for the keys.

Sophie got out and met him in front of the hood.

“Why don’t you leave?” he asked, his throat so tight it hurt to speak.

“I will, Jack. You just tell me why I’m going. Why I’m giving up when I loved you for two years, unconditionally. I didn’t talk about it, but I noticed the way you dreamed. The odd way you reacted in the subway sometimes, or on the Common or at a play, when you’d suddenly break into a cold sweat and drag me out. I assumed the problem was enclosed places, or crowds.”

“No.” It was children. Always children. Laughing or crying. Happy or sad. Children being children.

She closed her eyes, all but begging the thin, cold air for patience, and handed him his keys. “Let me talk to you. If we can’t sort out our problems tonight, I’ll go home, and you won’t see me or the baby until she’s old enough to make a different choice.” Sophie gripped her hands together. “A few minutes—not an expensive price to pay for the one thing you want.”

He did want her and the baby away from him, no matter what he had to do. He couldn’t face the kind of utter annihilation she was asking him to risk.

Not ever again.

“You have to tell me, Jack. I don’t understand, and I can’t walk away until you explain.” Frustration made her so vulnerable he had to resist reaching out for her. Wanting to comfort her and push her away at the same time.

He walked to the narrow door of his town house and unlocked it. The foyer held a bench and a small sofa, just large enough for two. He turned on a lamp and took up a stance at the newel post on the stairs opposite.

She looked frustrated, as if she’d expected him to collapse in some sort of admission.

“I think I’m figuring it out.” She pulled off her mittens and her cap. She unbuttoned her coat, and he went to the thermostat midway down the hall to make sure the house was warm enough.

To take his face out of the light, so she couldn’t see him.

“I’m trying to do the right thing, Sophie. If I wanted you to know, I would have told you two years ago.”

“Something’s wrong with you. It’s not just that one of the most decent men I’ve ever known suddenly became the most despicable.” She stroked her belly as if tracing her hands over the baby, a habit she’d formed since he’d left Boston. Maybe she’d had to love this baby for two.

“That’s why you should stay away from me. You shouldn’t consider telling that little girl my name.”

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