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

“May we come in?” Ms. Dane asked.

Anxiety bloomed inside Sophie’s chest. No nurse wanted to go to court. But it was a fact of life that came with her job. No one wanted to take anyone down, or prop someone else up, without good reason. Tessie’s future was too much responsibility.

The same way a baby’s future might seem like too much responsibility?

Sophie held the door open. “I don’t have anything to offer you here, but could I call down to ask for coffee? Or water?”

“Just talk,” Ms. Dane said.

They took the chairs at either side of the fireplace. Sophie sat on the tufted chest at the end of the bed.

“I know you’ve spoken to Tessie,” the probation officer said. “I have to check on her, too. I’ve spoken to her teachers, her friends and her parents. I’ve even had a word with her doctors.”

“Jack Banning?” Sophie hadn’t asked him how he felt about Tessie’s mistake.

“And her GP. I’d like to hear your version of the accident.”

“I spoke to Officer Reese, and I wrote a statement for the police.”

“But I need to hear what you remember now.” Celia smiled. “We’re not out to get Tessie. We want to do the right thing to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Someone else knocked at the door. Sophie stood. “Excuse me. You probably know Esther’s a little protective of her guests.”

She was wrong again. Jack stood on the threshold. He looked distracted and unsettled, but determined. “I thought you might need—” he looked past her, into the room “—something.”

Baffled, Sophie let him in. “I’m fine.”

“You act as if you’re concerned, Jack,” the officer said.

“Sophie’s alone here. She doesn’t know many people.”

“Let me repeat what I told your friend,” Celia said, and Jack didn’t deny that they knew each other. “We’re searching for the right solution for Tessie. We already know this accident was not Sophie’s fault.”

Jack backed down, but Sophie couldn’t look away from him.

“Ms. Palmer?” the officer said.

She returned her attention to the visitors. “I already told you how it happened. I came off the exit ramp and saw Tessie driving toward me. She was weaving. She saw my car and tried to swerve.” Sophie reached behind her neck to smooth out her hair. To breathe in and out. Her baby was okay, but those horrifying moments replayed in startling clarity. She glanced at Jack again. Was this what happened to him?

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She turned to Officer Reese, her blood thrumming in her ears. “We collided. I saw she was hurt. I applied a tourniquet, and the emergency services arrived.”

“Why did you feel the need to speak to her in the hospital?” Celia asked.

Sophie hesitated. “I think it’s because I was so afraid she would die out on that road.” She splayed her hands over her belly. “And maybe because I’m pregnant. I wanted to make sure she was all right. I wanted to know if she was remorseful, and I believe she is.”

“You can’t think she deserves a free pass?” Officer Reese asked, angry in the way of a man who’d seen too many injured drivers.

“I believe Tessie when she says she won’t ever touch her phone again while she’s driving. I believe in second chances. Don’t you have driver’s safety courses? Couldn’t she speak to the children at her school—at all the schools near here?”

“That’s what I’m considering.” Celia turned to the policeman. “I think Sophie’s suggesting that Tessie has already paid for her carelessness.”

“She almost died,” Sophie said. “And she was terrified that she’d hurt me and my child. That’s a lot of responsibility for a teenager.”

“If she remembers this. If she never forgets what might have happened,” Reese said.

“You probably know I’m an ER nurse in Boston. I’ve talked to a lot of people who pretend to feel remorse for things they’ve done. Tessie’s relief when she saw me was real.”

“Jack already gave us that speech,” Reese said.

“He did?”

Jack shrugged but then moved so his shoulder touched hers. “Everyone in this room has faced people they have to trust or doubt,” he said. “I need to know patients aren’t lying about the meds they’re taking, or the extent and location of pain. Reese, here, has to judge every word an offender says to him. And Celia—she has to know when a kid like Tessie deserves probation or when she needs to be locked away.”

“You believe Tessie, too, Jack?”

“I’d put her on courses and community service to make sure she never forgets what might have happened, but I do believe she’s sorry.”

Reese’s smirk worried Sophie. Celia nodded slowly, making notes on the pad she’d balanced on her knee. When she finished, she clicked her pen and rose, smoothing her skirt.

“That’s it, Officer. Let’s leave these people to their evening. I’ll let you know, Sophie, if you need to come to court.”

Sophie managed not to quiver at the thought she might still hold Tessie’s future in her hands. They walked to the white door together, but Jack stayed behind. Sophie tried not to look shocked.

“They came up to the steps as I was walking away,” he told her when the two of them were alone. “I tried to leave, but I didn’t want you to face them by yourself. Reese has a reputation for being hard-nosed, and he’s not above bullying you to testify against Tessie.”

“You tried to leave?”

He unzipped his coat. “Do you think I want to keep getting involved?”

“I’m glad you couldn’t help yourself.” She turned him toward the door. “But I’m tired and hungry, so I’ll leave you to stew over the idea that someday our daughter might do something, accidentally, that involves the police. And I’ll be her only defense.”

His face paled.

“I was joking, Jack! I’m a responsible person with a good job. I’d call an attorney.” As she eased him through the door, Sophie couldn’t help liking the shock on his face. The most detached man in the world had suddenly seen a future where his child might need him. It was about time.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_61542eb0-f223-579d-8807-1904d264ed06)

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.