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

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SOPHIE MADE IT to the nurses’ station and set the bottle on the counter. “Can we get this refilled?” she asked. In her hospital, there was filtered water available. They must have something similar here, because a woman in green scrubs took the container away.

Sophie leaned on the counter, breathing. She didn’t allow herself to embrace the hope hovering at the edges of her awareness.

Jack’s defense of her had come out of left field, but it didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about being a father to their child. He’d broken a sweat as Tessie talked about the baby.

Was he concerned about their baby? Or any baby? He’d lost an eleven-month-old girl in a surgery in October. That was when the dreams had started.

“Here you go,” the nurse said, handing over Tessie’s water.

Sophie collected herself. No need to get confused about what she wanted, either. Jack might have tried for a second to protect her, but even if he’d meant it, even if he still cared for her, he could abandon her in the next breath.

It didn’t matter, but before she put Christmas Town in her rearview mirror, they both had to be certain what kind of man he’d become. Would Jack be a name on a birth certificate? Or would he come to his senses and understand the magnitude of the unexpected gift he was throwing away?

When she returned to the room, he was finishing Tessie’s dressing. Jack was one of the few surgeons Sophie knew who didn’t turn that duty over to the nurses. He smoothed the tape.

“That should do you, Tessie.”

The nurse gathered up the supplies. “Anything else, Doctor?”

Jack shook his head. “We’re good,” he said. The nurse left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Dr. Banning, my mom and dad are stringing lights on the green tonight. Do you think I could help them?”

He looked at Sophie as if she’d asked the question. “We all help decorate. A few years ago, the town council had to choose between fewer decorations, including canceling the pageant on Christmas Eve, or volunteering in shifts so we could cut the labor budget.” He made his notes on the screen beside Tessie’s bed. “I think you need to stay here another night. We had to transfuse you. We’ll do blood work again this evening and in the morning. If your levels are rising, you can go tomorrow.”

“I hate this place.” Tessie shifted in the bed, but grimaced as her arm pulled, reminding her of the life lesson her recklessness had taught her. “Not that I’m not grateful you fixed me up.”

“But the food is horrible, and you can’t have a nice hamburger or a chicken wrap or whatever teenage girls eat these days.” He touched a button that darkened the monitor. “You’re a week early for Santa’s daily visits, although I hear the nutritionists are lobbying for him to distribute fruit this year.”

“Fruit?” Tessie’s show of disgust betrayed her. She wasn’t a forbearing saint or an adult. The child who didn’t care for healthy holiday goodies lingered inside her.

Sophie laughed, relieved to find a normal adolescent had survived her trauma.

“What do you like, Sophie?” Tessie smoothed her hospital sheet. “At our house, we dip strawberries in dark chocolate. And then we dip everything else we can find in the kitchen. Even bacon.”

A hint of morning sickness rattled Sophie. “Chocolate-covered cherries,” she said. “My mom gives me a beautiful box every year because her parents gave her one. The good ones with cordials and liqueurs, which I will not be enjoying this year.”

“That’s a waste of good chocolate. I’d take the fresh fruit over chocolate liqueurs.”

“Or bacon,” Jack said.

Tessie laughed. Sophie concentrated on not looking startled that he’d try to be funny with her in the room. But putting on a show might be his second best skill.

“You two are finicky,” he said. “I prefer those chocolate oranges my mom used to put in our stockings. You crack them against a table and they separate into slices. I could eat one of those now,” he said.

“I could eat anything.” Tessie sniffed the air. Out in the hall, the rattle of silver and serving trays predicted the arrival of lunch. “Except whatever they’re bringing me.”

“You’ll be out of here in twenty-four hours,” Jack said as Sophie realized she was still holding Tessie’s bottle. “In fact, you can talk your parents into taking another shift on the green tomorrow.”

“I will. I could help when the other cheerleaders do their shift, but I think my parents need me more right now.”

“Or you could do both. You know what they say about idle hands.”

“I know what my grandmother says,” she answered sharply.

“I guess you’re feeling more like yourself,” Jack said. “But please do as you’re told and rest today so you can work on the holiday decorations tomorrow. You’re a lucky girl, Tessie.”

“I know.”

The girl’s guilt touched Sophie. “You have to learn from this, but you don’t have to mourn surviving,” she said.

At the foot of the bed, Jack turned to her with a look of accusation on his face.

“Jack, I took a cab over here,” she said. “Mind giving me a ride back?”

He gave a reluctant nod. “Will you wait while I change out of my scrubs? Tessie, take it easy. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Don’t lose my card,” Sophie told her. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_14b4aadb-645e-51a4-8e5f-0dd9ba11feb4)

SOPHIE WAITED NEAR the E.R. entrance. She felt a little light-headed as she searched for the words to ask Jack if his tours of duty in Afghanistan might be part of the problem between them. Between him and their unborn daughter.

She had so little time. Tact wouldn’t suffice.

He came out of the elevator, having traded his scrubs for jeans and a black sweater. He shrugged into his lined bomber jacket and met her at the doors, leaning down to speak to her.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me now, and we won’t have to ride back to the square together.”

“It’s going to take that long. Jack, I really need to talk to you.”

He looked at her with pity in his eyes. Poor little stalker ex. She can’t take a hint.

“Put up a wall,” she said. “You think if you’re rude enough I’ll back off?”

“What more do you need to know? I walked out without looking back.”

“That might have worked if we’d had some casual relationship, but we were friends for how long before it grew into something deeper?” Her patience dwindled and bitterness crept in. “Of course, you were lying to me about who you really are.”

“Knowing that, why are you still here?” He didn’t make the slightest effort to deny what she’d said, or defend his own actions.

“What happened to you in Afghanistan?”

Jack’s eyes instantly glazed in a convincing show of indifference. “Nothing happened.” He started for the physicians’ parking lot, and Sophie followed.

“Something did, and the fact that you can’t talk about it means you aren’t handling it on your own. I’ve seen the symptoms—cold sweats, a startle reflex at loud noises.