“Chris.”
“Hmm.”
“I have to go get Adam.”
Larabee held his wife for a few seconds longer, kissed her gently on the cheek and released his hold on her warm body. “I’ll take care of him, honey, you go back to sleep.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Larabee answered as he slid out from under the blankets. He vaguely remembered picking up his wife and carrying her to their bed. Their nights of lovemaking never ceased to bring a smile of contentment to his face and he took one last look at Sarah Larabee before making his way to the nursery and the softly babbling baby.
Chris stepped up to the crib and reached down to take his son into his arms. The smile on the child’s face was a mirror image of the one his mother wore when she held him in her arms. He walked into the kitchen and prepared a bottle of milk for the baby in his arms, all the while talking to the baby. He took the bottle back to the warm bedroom and changed his son’s diaper. He ran his warm hands down over the familiar body, tickling the arms, the tiny chest, and the small crevices that were wonderful on a baby. Adam Larabee smiled and giggled as his father continued to pay attention to him.
Chris dressed the child in a warm sleeper, washed his hands and picked up the baby and the bottle. He made his way to the wicker rocking chair by the window and sat down contentedly. Adam accepted the bottle and drank the warm milk. He snuggled into his father’s arms and his little hand came up to grab his fathers.
“Hey, little man, you were hungry weren’t you,” he said as the little boy continued to drink from the bottle. ‘So much like your mother,’ he thought as he held the boy close. ‘We’ve got a whole lifetime of love for you,’ a cold shiver of dread ran down his spine and it took a few minutes to shake it off. He could feel how his mood affected his son as the boy held tightly to his fingers.
“Sorry, Son, Daddy’s just being silly,” he smiled as the little boy pushed the empty bottle away. “I guess you’ve had enough,” he laughed as a loud burp emanated from the small mouth, followed immediately by a tiny giggle. “I bet that felt good.”
“Dada,” the small child muttered.
Larabee’s face was filled with joy as he held the wonderful miracle, the result of the love he shared with Sarah Larabee. “That’s right, Adam, I’m your Dada and I promise to protect you and your mother. I promise to love you both always and forever,” he whispered as the boy settled into his arms and the lids closed over the green eyes so much like his own.
Chris gently rocked the child and felt his own eyes closing. He stood up and walked across the room, placing the child in the safe comfort of the crib. ‘I love you, Adam Jonathon Larabee,’ he thought and once more felt a shiver of dread run down his spine. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you, Larabee?’ he thought as his vision blurred and six worried faces ran through his mind.
Vin Tanner pulled on the gown and stared through the window. He could see Chris Larabee stretched out on the bed in the isolation room. Tremors rippled across his flesh as he watched the slow rise and fall of the chest.
“You can go in now, Mr. Tanner.”
Vin shook his head as he heard the nurse standing beside him. “Sorry,” he said as he walked up to the door. He stepped inside and the silence of the room terrified him. Chris was on his back, an oxygen mask covered the lower half of his face, an IV ran into his arm, and monitoring equipment took up most of the space surrounding his bed.
The sharpshooter hurried to the side of the bed and sat down. He reached out and touched the pale shoulder. “Hey, Cowboy, hell of a mess this is,” he said. “Ya know there’s no way I can help ya fight this bad guy. This is one ya have to beat on your own but ya won’t be alone. Me and the boys’ll be here when you beat it and we’ll have a real good Christmas celebration when ya get outta here,” he assured his friend.
Chris moved away from the crib and started back to the room he shared with his wife. He stood in the doorway watching her. She lay on her side, her long brown tresses spread over her pillow and her arm hugged the spot where his head would normally be. He stepped into the room and sat in the coffee colored lounge chair, content to watch Sarah’s sleeping form. ‘What did I do to deserve your love, Sarah,’ he thought. Slowly he walked to the window and looked out at the white expanse of lawn. Snow continued to fall and he shuddered as an icy draft managed to get past the wind tight windows. ‘Dammit what is going on?’ he thought as the six faces swam before his eyes once more.
“Chris?”
Larabee turned away from the window and forced a smile on his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sat on the edge of the bed and gazed into her sleep weary eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up and taking his hand in hers.
“I don’t know. I just keep thinking something’s wrong.”
Sarah knew by her husband’s tone that something was really bothering him. She’d seen Chris’s moods change in the blink of an eye and she wondered what had brought on this mood change. “Is Adam ok?” she asked worriedly.
Chris held her in his arms, “He’s fine. I gave him a bottle and he’s gone back to sleep.”
Sarah felt her husband tremble in her arms and knew there was something bothering him. She knew him well enough to wait until he was ready to talk and just settled into his arms to wait for that time.
Chris closed his eyes and waited for the faces to swim in front of his eyes once more. He knew one of them seemed familiar but he couldn’t bring that face into focus. He placed his head on his wife’s shoulder and basked in the warmth of her presence.
“Gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s more bad news,” Turner said as he entered the waiting room with Vin Tanner. He’d been to see Chris Larabee and he’d performed some tests and was about to talk over the results with Larabee’s friends.
“What’s going on, Doctor?” Travis asked.
“Mr. Larabee has slipped into a coma,” Turner explained.
“What?” Wilmington snapped.
“He’s gonna wake up though isn’t he, Doc?” Dunne asked.
“I hope so,” Turner answered. Right now all we can do is hope the antibiotics work and his fever goes down. There haven’t been any more seizures and hopefully it’ll stay that way. For now I’d just like you all to keep positive thoughts and talk to him while you’re in there with him. From what I’ve heard you’re the closest thing he’s got to a family so please make sure you talk to him. Give him something to come back too.”
“We will, Doc,” Wilmington assured him.
“Make sure there’s just one at a time in with him,” Turner warned them as he left the seven men to themselves.
Silence washed over the room as each man’s thoughts turned inward. Christmas was only two days away and now it seemed as if they’d need a miracle to make their group whole once more.
JD stood up and walked to the door. “I need to go see Chris,” he told them.
“You sure, Kid,” Wilmington asked, worried about the troubled look on the younger man’s face.
Dunne nodded and pulled the heavy door open. He walked the short distance to the isolation room and donned the gown, mask and gloves before entering the room. A nurse stood by the bed and JD waited for her to leave before sitting in the chair. Once he sat down he swiped at a stray tear before it leaked from his eye. He took a deep breath and started speaking softly. “Chris, I’m not much for talking,” Dunne smiled as he looked at the pale figure. “Ok, so that’s an understatement. I talk a lot but it’s mostly just jokes and things unless its got something to do with a case. You took a chance on me, Chris, and I’m not going to forget it. Doctor Turner wants us to talk to you so maybe I’ll just tell you about something my Ma did for me. We never had much, Chris, but what we had was special. I remember a Christmas...”
“JD, are you finished?”
“Yes, Ma,” eight year old JD Dunne called from his bedroom where he’d just finished cleaning his room. The tiny basement apartment he shared with his mother was damp and cold in the winter but today was Christmas Eve and none of that coldness could put a damper on the warmth he felt inside. His mother was spending Christmas Eve with him, something she’d been unable to do for the past three years because of her job at the hotel. It was mandatory in her job that she be available Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because those days fell or her regular shift. This was the first year she’d been able to book those two days off and JD Dunne didn’t need anything else for Christmas.
“Well come on, Son, Dinner’s ready and we don’t want it to get cold.”
JD placed the picture of his mother back on the desk and hurried into the tiny kitchen. The living room was small and the well worn couch was already made for his mother to sleep. A small sparsely decorated tree stood in one corner. Two brightly wrapped presents sat underneath and JD could hardly hold back his excitement. His mother didn’t make very much at her job but she always managed to make Christmas special for him even when she wasn’t there. The woman they rented from was older but she enjoyed having JD around and when his Mom had to work JD stayed with her.
The tiny table, big enough for two, held a chicken, Christmas pudding and mixed vegetables and JD sat down with a smile. He listened as his mother thanked God for the meal and said amen. “This looks great Ma,” he said as he helped himself to the delicious smelling meal. His mother was still a beautiful woman and he wondered why she never dated. Sometimes he thought it was because of him but he never voiced those thoughts to her.
The meal ended and they cleared the table, she washed while JD dried. Once the dishes were finished they retired to the living room and turned on the TV just as It’s A Wonderful Life came on. They settled on the couch with eggnog and Christmas cake. JD watched his mother’s face, knowing she’d soon be crying, something this movie never failed to cause her to do. He smiled as the moisture came into her eyes and he passed her the tissues.
“Thank you,” she said as she wiped her eyes.
“You’re welcome, Ma,” he answered. He knew it wasn’t the movie making her cry. It had more to do with the way she felt. He’d overheard her talking to their landlady about the things she wanted for JD but knew she’d never be able to provide him with. He’d gone to his room and cried not for what he didn’t have but for the way it hurt his mother. As the movie came to an end he turned to see her staring at him. “I love you, Ma,” he told her.
“I love you too, JD,” she answered. “We’d best go to bed so Santa can come,” she told him, even though she knew he didn’t believe anymore.
“Goodnight, Ma,” he said, wrapping her in a tight embrace that conveyed just how much love he had for her.
She held him tightly for a few minutes before releasing him. She watched him make his way to his tiny bedroom, wishing she could provide him with the things a boy his age should take for granted. She lay back on the couch and cried herself to sleep, unaware that her son could hear every sob that left her.
JD settled in his bed and waited for his mother’s soft crying to stop. He wasn’t bitter and he didn’t care about the things the other boys had. All he wanted was for his mother to be happy and he hoped she’d understand that when she opened his gift the next day. Tears fell from the boys eyes as he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke early and hurried into the living room to find his mother still sleeping. He smiled as he hurried to the kitchen and started breakfast. He boiled the water in the kettle and poured his mother a cup of tea before setting the table and making toast and cereal. He walked back into the living room and woke his mother. “Ma, breakfast is ready,” he told her, smiling at the look of surprise on her face.
“Why didn’t you call me, JD?” she asked, smiling as she followed him into the kitchen. They said grace, ate the meal and left the dishes to hurry into the living room. JD saw the excitement on his mother’s face as they sat beside the tiny tree. She passed him a small package and he could feel her excitement as he unwrapped the gift.
JD gasped as he looked at the leather bound book in his hand. He opened the cover and swallowed as he found six volumes of the old dime store novels he’d looked at in the antique store they’d visited during the summer. “Ma, how did you? They cost too much...”
“Now, JD, never mind how or why or how much they cost. I knew you wanted them and I saved until I had enough. They are yours, Son, and I wish I could’ve got you more,” she cried, tears flowing down her cheeks as she hugged him to her.
“Ma, thank you,” JD told her as he reached for the other package. He passed it to her and waited for her to open it.
She opened the thin package and found a Cameo broach. Tears filled her eyes as she remember telling JD about the broach her grandmother gave her as a small child. It had been lost over the years and she’d been devastated. “Oh, JD, how did you...”
“Ma, I saved my allowance and did some odd jobs. I wanted you to have this. I wanted to show you how much I love you.”
“Oh, thank you, JD, Will you pin it on for me?”
“Sure, Ma,” Dunne grinned as he pinned the broach on his mother’s blouse, content in the knowledge he’d brought a real smile to her face.
“That was a special Christmas for me, Chris. My Ma was the most important person in my life. She was the only family I had until I found you guys so please, Chris, don’t give up fighting. I’m gonna go let Josiah come in but I’ll be back so don’t you forget you have family here and we care about you,” Dunne fingered the broach he carried with him at all times, a constant reminder of the woman who’d always been able to keep his childhood fears at bay. With a last glance at the ill man he hurried from the room, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Chris, what’s bothering you?”
Larabee turned away from the bright lights flickering on the Christmas tree. He continued to struggle to understand who the faces were and what they meant to him. There was something about them that continued to draw him, especially the face of a young man with long hair. He looked into the soft eyes of his wife and forced the thoughts from his mind. “Nothing, Sarah.”
She placed her hands in his and pulled him from the chair. “Now tell me why I don’t believe you,” she smiled and Larabee’s heart melted at the overwhelming sense of love he felt for her.
Chris pulled her into an embrace and relished the lingering scent of lilac. It was something he associated with the woman in his arms, a scent that meant she was with him and he took it with him wherever he went. “It’s not something I can explain, Sarah. It’s just a feeling.”
“Uhoh,” Sarah pulled back and gazed into his eyes, a mischievous look in her eyes. “I think its time to lock the windows and doors. When Chris Larabee gets one of his feelings buildings fall and animals run for the hills,” she saw their usual joke was not having the desired effect and pulled him back into her arms.
The doorbell rang and Sarah felt his arms go slack. ‘What’s wrong, Chris?’ she thought as her husband released her and walked to the door.
Larabee opened the door and smiled at the man standing there. “Come on in,” he said, a warm smile of welcome on his face for the handsome man standing there.
“Hey, Chris, how’s it going?” Wilmington asked, rubbing his hands briskly in an effort to warm them. He stomped his feet to knock off the excess snow and removed his coat.
“Hi, Buck,” Sarah greeted as she joined the two men.
“Well hello, Darlin’. Are ya ready to leave this old man and come home with me where you belong?” he asked, pulling her into a warm embrace.
“Now, Buck, you know I told you to keep our secret between us. Now you’ve gone and told Chris what we’re planning,” she laughed.
Larabee watched his wife and best friend, he smiled as the ladies man held her tightly. Buck Wilmington was a rogue and some people called him a womanizer but there was no one Chris Larabee trusted more than this man. “You best keep your hands off the woman I love, Wilmington!” he grinned and led his friend into the warmth of the living room. “Drink?”
“Scotch, neat,” Wilmington answered. “Where’s my little boy?”
“He’s taking a nap,” Sarah answered. She hurried from the room and left the two men to keep each other company. She sensed her husband’s need to talk and hoped Buck Wilmington could draw him out.
Sanchez slid into the chair by the bed and placed his hand on the younger man’s forehead. He said a silent prayer as he noted the machinery around the bed. The isolation room was small yet it held everything the doctors and nurses needed to care for the ill man. He’d noted the moisture in JD Dunne’s eyes as he’d passed him and knew there was a struggle going on in this room. “Well, Brother, as Buck always says you’re taking a few more years off my life,” he said softly. “In three days we’ll be celebrating a wondrous event that’s withstood the passage of time and still sends chills through every living soul who believes in the bible. I remember the first time I read the story...”
Josiah Sanchez stood before his grandfather’s bed. At ten years old he’d basked in his grandfather’s love even knowing the older man wouldn’t be with him much longer. The doctor said it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the call of death. Josiah watched as a large crow landed in the tree outside his grandfather’s window. They were at the older man’s home instead of in a hospital because his last request was to die in his own bed, his dignity intact in death as it had been in life.
“Grandfather,” he called softly, not wanting to wake the man if he was sleeping.
The older man opened lucid blue eyes and gazed into the exact copies in the young boy’s face. “You came.”
His voice, so normally strong sounded weak to Josiah and he knew his beloved grandfather would not be around much longer. “Always, Grandfather,” the boys eyes misted as he watched the older man glance at the window.
“The crows have come, Josiah. There’s not much time left for me. I wanted you to have something that belonged to my father. He gave it to me on Christmas Eve when I was ten and I think it’s time I passed it along to you.”
Josiah took the well worn, dog-eared bible from the grizzled hands of the older man. He’d read from this bible many times and listened to his grandfather’s voice as he produced the most wonderful sermons ever to grace any church. His voice resounded off the walls of the church as he delivered the weekly reading and Josiah never tired of listening to that baritone voice.
“Josiah, I know you and your father do not always see eye to eye but he is a good man and he will look after you. We had our own misunderstanding when he was growing up but we worked them out and so will you. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I want you to go home and be there for him. He will need your strength and you will need his. Remember he is your family and you will need each other. The good Lord has seen fit to call me home, Josiah, but I can’t go until I know you will be alright.”
Sanchez watched his grandfather’s eyes, he could see the pain the older man fought to control and he knew he was the only one who could ease his suffering and bring him peace. “I will, Grandfather,” he said and watched as a contented smile spread over the man’s wrinkled face. He watched as the light of life left the eyes but knew that although his mortal life was over his spiritual being would always be here. “I love you, Grandfather...”
“I did as he asked, Brother. I went home that night and Father and I read from the bible together. That Christmas is one I will always remember for the sadness and joy it brought me. I lost my grandfather but gained back my father. We had many years together before the crows showed up again,” Sanchez explained as he stood up and placed his hands on Larabee’s shoulders once more. “There’ll be no crows showing up this Christmas, Chris Larabee,” he vowed before leaving the room, his hand rested on the bible in his pocket. He’d removed it from the dash of his car before entering the hospital.
Josiah walked towards the elevators, knowing he was being drawn to the room that always gave him strength. He pushed the button and waited for the doors to open. The doors slid apart, revealing an emptiness that mirrored the way he felt inside. This group of men had become a family to him and sometimes he thought they were the sons he never had. He knew Chris was fighting for his life right now and he wanted to talk to God and pray that he would give Chris the strength to make it through. He was unaware of stepping into the elevator or of getting off and making his way towards the chapel.
He smiled at the young dark haired man kneeling in the front row. JD was the youngest member of the group of seven and he carried a faith inside him nothing could shatter. He didn’t want to impose on the younger man’s prayers so he moved towards the pew on the left.
JD heard someone enter and turned towards the doors, his eyes moist with unshed tears. The story he’d told Chris was one he’d never shared with anyone yet it felt good to tell it to the man who’d given him a chance to prove himself. He swallowed deeply and turned back to the front of the chapel.
Josiah sensed the younger man’s need for company and moved to the seat beside him. The two remained silent but their mutual worry for their friend transmitted itself from one to the other and they prayed silently.
“Chris?”
“Yeah, Buck,” Larabee sipped from the glass.
“You look like you’re miles away,” Wilmington observed.
Larabee smiled at his friend, unsure why this man could read him so well. “Just thinking,” he answered.
“Damn, Chris, that’s not something you should do on Christmas Eve.”
Larabee laughed at the look on Wilmington’s face. He knew the ladies man was trying to help but something continued to nag him. He knew in his heart this was not where he should be. He wanted to stay more than anything but there was someone calling him and he was having a hard time ignoring the voices that plagued him. Visions of a broach and bible swam before his eyes as he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured another shot into his glass.
Sarah came into the living room, her worried gaze falling on her husband. ‘Oh, Chris, I wish there was something I could do to wipe that frown off your face,’ she thought. She stepped up to the bar and felt his arms reach out and engulf her. “I came to tell you dinner’s ready,” she said.
Chris captured her lips and smiled in spite of the doubts nagging him. ‘This is where I belong,’ he thought but shivered as the face of the unknown young man assaulted him once more.
“Hey, Chris, if this is what marriage does to a man I just might have to try it out,” Wilmington laughed as the two people he cared for separated.
“You, Buck, never happen,” Larabee smiled and linked his arm through his wife’s as they made their way to the dining room.
“Well, Mr. Larabee, it looks to me like you’re thinking about running out on me. I will endeavor to elucidate the reasons you should stay. You brought together a group of diverse men and you managed to do it with style and flare without even trying. I came to you with a reputation for being a liar and a cheat and yet you looked past those character traits and gave me a chance to prove myself. You gave me a choice no one else gave me. You showed me that I could turn my, hmm, shall we say expertise to helping keep the injustices of this world to a minimum. My Mother never even gave me that chance,” he laughed as he walked to the window. “My Mother,” he said wistfully. “You know Chris, I’ve only known you guys three yeas yet I’ve spent more Christmas Day’s with all of you than I ever did with mother. She did come for me one year though. I was too young to realize it was probably for selfish reasons on her part but it was and still is a memory of what life could have been for me. You see I was only six at the time and Mother...”
“Ezra, Sugah, where are you?”
“Mother?”
Maude Standish held her arms out to her son and smiled at him. “That’s right,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve missed you so.”
“Mother?” Ezra repeated as the large manservant stepped into the room. “I thought you were spending Christmas with the Earl in his villa in the south of France?”
Maude held him at arms length and smiled at the look of disbelief on his face. “I was, Sugah, but the Earl’s wife decided she wanted to go along with him. It put a crimp in my style.”
“I understand. So where are you going to spent Christmas now? Are you going to visit the Duke instead?”
“No, my dawling boy. Mother is here in New Orleans to spend Christmas with you.”
Ezra Standish learned early on how to wear a poker face and keep others from reading him but the words spoken by his worldly mother shocked him and drove away the facade he tried to portray. “D...do you mean it, Mother?” he asked excitedly.
“Ezra, dawling, you know better than to let your emotions show. We must always endeavor to keep our feelings inside where they belong.”
“Yes, Mother,” Standish hurriedly put on his best poker face in an effort to please the extravagantly dressed woman kneeling before him.
“That’s my boy,” she said as she held him at arms length and studied the boys green eyes. “But you still need to work on your eyes, Sugah. Remember a poker face can be easily read by looking into the eyes of your mark. Practice makes perfect, Ezra, and perfection is something to strive for in our choice of business endeavors.”
“Yes, Mother. How long will you be in residence?” the young boy asked, using words he’d been taught at an early age. Words no six year old boy should understand but he did. With Maude as his mother there was little choice. She ran cons all over the world and needed to know how to talk in the higher social circles she resided in.
“I have two whole days to spend with my precious little boy,” Maude smiled as the boys eyes once more betrayed his excitement. “Restraint, Ezra, always remember to use a modicum of restraint,” she reminded him.
“Yes, Mother,” he repeated. His excitement at having his mother to himself for two whole days was almost too much for him to control but he managed.
“She managed to keep her word that year, Chris, she stayed with me for two days and we spent every minute together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my Mother so relaxed and at ease. We ate at fancy restaurants and went to the socialite parties but it didn’t matter. She was with me. She kept a promise for the first time that I could remember and that was the best Christmas present she could’ve given me. Money can’t buy the company of friends and family, Chris. You and the rest of the team have shown me I can belong without the style and flare Mother said were necessary to survive in this world. I want to thank you for that. For giving me a chance when no one else would. This year there is only one thing I want for Christmas and it’s something that’ll even surpass the Christmas I spent with Mother. The best Christmas present I can possibly hope for is to have you wake up and tell me to shut up,” Standish couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the times Larabee had used those words on him or one of the other members of the firm. “It looks like Mr. Jackson’s waiting to see you, Mr. Larabee,” his mask was back in place as he left the room.
Chris stood over the crib, watching his son play with the brightly colored mobile over his head. His heart ached with the overwhelming love he had for his family and yet he knew something was drawing him away.
Sarah watched her husband, knowing he would soon be leaving her and Adam. She’d known from the beginning that he wouldn’t be staying with her. This was a wish she’d been granted but it would only last till a little after the stroke of midnight which marked the end of Christmas Eve and the beginning of Christmas Day. This was a special Christmas for her and one she knew would always remain in her husband’s heart. It was the first Christmas with Adam and the memories were still fresh for her. She watched as he tenderly gathered the small child in his arms and shivered in anticipation of what was to come. She listened as he sang Silent Night in a soft off key voice and tears came to her eyes. ‘Oh, Chris, I wish we could stay like this forever.’
Larabee looked up from the child in his arms and watched as a flash of pain crossed his wife’s face. “Sarah, is something wrong?” he asked.
She smiled and knelt before him, placing one hand in his and the other on her son’s chest. “No, Chris, everything’s right. Let’s put him to bed,” she whispered longingly.
He nodded and placed the sleeping child in the crib, pulling the sides up to ensure his safety. The couple looked down on the results of the love they had for one another before walking to their own room.
Nathan sat next to the bed, his Paramedic training left him with more information than he wanted. It was at times like this, when one of his friends was hurt or ill that he wondered if he’d chosen the wrong field. He knew his training was one of the reasons Chris had chosen him for the team and he was grateful for the chance to prove himself. “Chris, I’m not gonna tell you to fight this thing because I know you already are or you wouldn’t be here with us now. Today is the twenty second of December and Christmas is only three short days away. I’m not sure you can hear me right now but I wanted to share something with you. Its got to do with another Christmas and a gift that helped me decide I wanted to help others. I wrote a letter to Santa when I was seven,” Jackson laughed. “I know, that’s kinda late but my parents wanted Christmas to last for us. My father always told me that Santa...”
“Santa is in here, Son. He’s a feeling that grows inside of us and shows us how we can help others less fortunate than us. So as long as you’re willing to give of yourself Santa will be alive and very real. Now go on and finish that letter,” Obediah Jackson told his son.
“The kids at school laughed at me when I told them that,” Nathan’s voice quivered as he looked at his father.
“Is that where you got the split lip, Son?”
Nathan nodded slowly, remembering the two bullies from the higher grade and how they’d laughed at the idea that he still believed in Santa. He remembered the tall dark haired kid who’d come to his aid and wished he’d stayed long enough to get his name and thank him properly. “They told me there’s no such thing as Santa.”
“There’s a lot of cruelty in the world, Son, but don’t you ever let them get the upper hand. Santa was a real person, or at least Kris Kringle was and he’s the basis of the stories you’ve heard your mother read to you. Don’t let them take those beliefs away from you, Nathan.”
“I won’t Daddy,” Jackson smiled and turned back to the paper he held. He kept his eyes averted as his father suffered through another attack. He knew his father was ill and there was little he could do about it. ‘I’m gonna do something to help people when I get older,’ he thought as he continued with his letter.
“Nathan, you’re a good son and I want you to know how proud I am of you.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” Nathan smiled gratefully as he placed his letter in an envelope and sealed it.
“So, are you gonna tell me what you asked for?”
Nathan smiled and shook his head. “Not this time, Daddy,” he answered.
“Alright, Son,” Obediah smiled at the boy. He knew in his heart his son would one day make a fine doctor and he hoped to see that day come. He thought of the gift, hidden in a trunk in the far corner of the attic.
“I’m gonna mail this,” Nathan said.
“Alright, Son,” the older Jackson laughed as the younger one pulled on his coat, hat and boots before rushing out the door. He turned on the small TV and waited for his son’s return.
Nathan hurriedly mailed the letter and rushed back to his house. He wanted to sit down with his father and watch Obediah’s favorite Christmas program. As he opened the door he heard the sound of the angels and knew It’s a wonderful Life was about to begin. He undressed and hurried into the living room, smiling gratefully as his father passed him a cup of hot cocoa. “Thanks, Daddy,” he said as he sipped the hot drink.
Christmas Day finally arrived and Nathan Jackson sat with his father and mother opening the gifts under the small tree.
Obediah watched his son’s face as he opened the final gift. It was wrapped in bright green paper and tied with a red bow. There was nothing on it except Nathan’s name. The boys face lit up when he removed the realistic doctor’s kit, something he’d asked for in the letter he’d written five days earlier.
Nathan glanced from the kit to his father, a smile spreading on his face. “You were right, Daddy, Santa does know what’s in our hearts...”
“I know now it wasn’t Santa, Chris, it was my father but I’ve always wondered how he knew what I asked Santa for that year. I wish I still believed,” Jackson whispered as he stood up to leave. “I guess it’s time to let Buck come in,” he placed his hand on Larabee’s shoulder and said a silent prayer before leaving. He hurried towards the waiting room across the hallway, needing to be alone with his thoughts. He didn’t regret the things he’d learned over the years but at times like this he felt he was better off not knowing. He sank into the uncomfortable chair, his gaze drawn towards the window. He closed his eyes and prayed silently.
Chris held her tightly in his arms, afraid if he relinquished his hold she’d disappear. Something was drawing him away from his family and he knew he would be leaving them soon. “Sarah, I’ll always love you.”
“I know you will, Chris,” she answered as she placed her head on his chest. ‘I know you’ll be leaving us soon but we’ll always be in your heart. You have a new family waiting for you and they need you with them,’ she thought.
“Sarah.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m not sure what’s going on but I’m afraid I’ll be leaving you soon,” he whispered.
The anguish in his voice tore at her heart and she lifted her eyes to meet his. “Chris, we’ll be in your heart no matter what happens,” she promised.
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