22. Grace

Chapter 22

Grace

Working on Christmas was a crap shoot. With only one social worker covering for a five-person team, the regular patient rounds were postponed. Some years were busy, the Emergency Department bustling with cases the medical staff flagged as domestic violence or substance abuse, while other years were slow and allowed time to catch up on paperwork.

Of course, this year — the first year that I had somebody waiting at home — it was more "Silent Night" than "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree." My desk was straightened, my emails were answered, my client intake and evaluation reports were done, and my to-do list for next year was prioritized … yet I vibrated with restlessness.

If it were busier, my thoughts might stop drifting to how tempting it had been to call out sick and stay in my bed with Alexander's scruffy jaw, disheveled hair, and puffy lips. My mind kept replaying our conversation …

I've never had anyone I wanted to go back for.

I can't give you forever, but I can give you this week. If you want it, it's yours.

Antsy to escape my office, I headed to the pediatric nurses' station, scanned through the list of admitted patients, and frowned at the name of a familiar patient spending her favorite holiday in the hospital.

Ruby was curled up in bed, a delicate pallor to her skin and an IV connecting her to a saline drip. Her heart monitor pulsed.

Her grandma Jean was crocheting quietly in the chair. I could tell the stress of grieving her daughter Sarah during the holidays was taking a toll, plus caring for a high-energy preschooler with a rare heart condition. After multiple heart surgeries most of her symptoms were mild, but she still had occasional lapses .

I washed my hands and whispered to Jean, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Jean whispered, casting on more yarn. "Wasn't expecting to see you."

"Medical care doesn't stop for the holidays," I shrugged.

"I thought you'd be with the guy who played Santa, your … boyfriend?"

My face flushed. "Not my boyfriend."

"You sure?" she grinned. "From how he looked at you, I figured —"

"Only friends. I'd met him three days before that," I said, trying not to blur the lines between personal and professional. Her expression was skeptical.

I gestured to Ruby. "What happened?"

"Tet spell," she said, lips tight. "Dizzy, blue tinge, too tired to eat."

"Why didn't you call me?" I asked, leaning against the counter. Over the years, I'd been with Ruby and Sarah through many hospitalizations. The doctors managed the treatment, but I could have helped Jean navigate the process.

Plus I wanted to make sure she was ok.

Jean didn't look up from her yarn. "It was Christmas Eve, and I … maybe I overreacted."

I looked again at Ruby's peaceful sleeping face and slightly blue lips, then squeezed Jean's shoulder and told her what she needed. "Sarah would have brought her in too. How are you?"

"Good," she said with a lip wobble. "Things are good."

On the bed, Ruby stirred. Her eyes blinked open and when she recognized me, they lit up. I wasn't supposed to have favorite patients, but I couldn't help it. Most of my patients were quick intakes and releases, but I developed a special bond with the kids with chronic conditions. A bittersweet bond, because it meant they spent a lot of time here.

"Merry Christmas, Grace!" she said with a stretch overhead, IV pulling taut.

"Merry Christmas," I said, perching on her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," she said groggily, which was a good sign. When I offered to check in with the nurses about food, she nodded and asked, "Did Santa visit your house?"

My mind flashed to the man who'd arrived late last night. "He did."

Ruby's brows furrowed with worry. "Does Santa know I'm here, or did he go to our house? "

I had no idea whether to tell her that he'd dropped off her gifts or not. Jean looked as uncertain as I felt … then I had an idea.

I lifted a brow to ask Jean permission to improvise, and she nodded.

"Want me to call him?" I asked, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.

Ruby's eyes widened, round as a wreath. "You have Santa's phone number ? "

"Of course, I set up the community room visit," I said casually.

Her brows scrunched, bracing for disappointment. "Won't he be tired?"

"He might be, he worked late last night. But I can tell him you're here, ok?"

She bit her lip, then nodded tentatively.

When Alexander answered, his voice was husky. Shoot, he hadn't slept well in days, I shouldn't have called.

"Hey Grace," he said in that low, seductive tone that ignited sparks in my low belly. "I was just thinking about you."

"Hey there, Santa," I said cheerfully before he said anything lascivious. "I'm here with Ruby, you might remember her from the cardiac visit?"

"Yes, I remember Ruby," he said, his tone more precise.

"She and her grandma spent last night here at the hospital. She's wondering if you left presents at her house or if you're waiting for her to get home."

He paused, and the silence rang in my ears.

Why did I call him? I hadn't thought it through, I only wanted to reassure her. What did I expect him to say? I should have let him sleep, but after he ad-libbed with her about taking the reindeer to the horse track, I'd hoped he'd play along.

I prompted him. "Could you check your list?"

After another pause, his voice was thoughtful. "Do you have my suit?"

My brain whirred about the rumpled business suit I'd peeled off him last night, before realizing he meant … "You don't have to, I know you're —"

"Grace," he said, his tone gruff. "It's Christmas. Let me do this."

My heart skipped a beat. Good thing cardiologists regularly visited this room.

I tilted away from Ruby to whisper, "It's hanging in my closet."

"Can you put me on speaker?" When I pressed the button, his voice boomed out. "Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas, Ruby!"

Her whole face lit up as she squealed. "Merry Christmas, Santa! "

"You weren't home last night," he said, his voice sweet. "Could I visit you today?"

"Really?" she said, bouncing on the bed and looking at her grandma.

"I have to feed the reindeer first. Will you wait for me?"

"Of course, Santa!"

As I hung up, Jean snickered. "Not your boyfriend, huh?"

Snowflakes covered his knit cap when he walked into my office, holding the garment bag. After he'd rolled in last night scruffy and exhausted in his expensive business suit, I expected to see lingering fatigue, but he was freshly showered and clean-shaven, dressed casually in jeans and a soft sweater. "Thanks for asking me to do this."

I hadn't, really. I'd hoped he'd lighten her spirits, not expected him to volunteer.

As he donned the velvet jacket, he inspected my festive red snowflake sweater and black trousers, fitting the hospital's dress code yet able to transition easily to dinner. "You're not joining me?"

"Ruby's already seen me like this," I said. "She only cares about Santa anyway."

"But how am I supposed to kiss you under the mistletoe?" he teased. "I'm not allowed to kiss staff members, only my Mrs. Claus."

"Guess you'll have to wait until next year," I said before instantly regretting it.

He didn't reply as he finished dressing, then reached into the bottom of the garment bag for a terribly-wrapped lump.

Ruby shrieked when he walked in. Her quick glance at her grandma revealed that she hadn't expected him to show. Her short life had been rife with hardship, but somehow she still clung to hope … and I felt relieved that I didn't break my promise to her .

Alex's lopsided grin appeared beneath his white beard. I guided him to wash his hands then sit gently on the end of her bed. When she scrambled closer, his smile faltered at seeing her in a hospital gown hooked up to medical equipment, but he recovered quickly.

"I thought you might like this," he held out the lumpy gift with a rare hint of uncertainty. "Mrs. Claus wasn't home to wrap it."

Ruby unwrapped a well-loved blue My Little Pony with rainbow hair, then threw her arms around Alex's shoulders. "Look, Grandma, it's Rainbow Dash!"

"I remembered that you liked unicorns," he said. Where the heck had he found that on such short notice?

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Santa, Rainbow Dash isn't a unicorn, she's a pegasus."

From my perch on the arm of Jean's uncomfortable hospital chair, we watched as Ruby explained, in great detail, the difference based on their wings and horns. I bit my knuckle to keep from laughing as Alex kept a straight face through multiple follow-up questions about how a unicorn grew wings to transform into an alicorn. Jean wiped away a tear then squeezed my hand, and Alex's eyes softened at the tender moment.

Since Ruby had Santa all to herself, she was in prime performance mode, reenacting My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic . His applause was eager, and I imagined a younger Alex giving a similar ovation to his now-famous brother. Next she rambled about baking sugar cookies with Grandma that they planned to leave out for Santa before she'd gotten dizzy. Alex rubbed his fake belly and rumbled that he'd had enough treats, so Ruby should eat them when she got home.

Ruby said maybe they'd have them for dinner, since the doctor said that she could leave soon but her grandma hadn't had time to cook so she said they would stop at McDonald's on the way home.

Alex's hopeful eyes asked me, ‘Can we?'

When I hesitated, he pursed his lips.

I sent him a look that said, ‘ Your choice, it's your house .'

His eyes rolled slightly, then he rubbed his beard. He couldn't invite them, not as Santa .

"Do you two want to come to our Christmas dinner?" I whispered to Jean, who startled at the request. I dropped my voice lower. "At his parents' house."

"Oh no, we couldn't impose."

Over Ruby's head, Alex mouthed, ‘Please come,' and looked relieved when she nodded. I promised to followup with the doctor about discharge plans. Alex hugged Ruby and gave Jean a shoulder squeeze, just like he'd seen me do.

At the nurses' station, I paged the attending to request discharge. While I waited, I texted Helen for permission to bring Jean and Ruby to dinner and received a rapid reply asking if they had dietary restrictions. Then I shared that Alex would be with me too, and he'd explain when he got there.

When the doctor called, Alex shifted at the buzz of families aware of the lingering Santa in the hallway. I fidgeted with my badge, ready to take him back to my office to change, until his gaze flicked down the hall then back to me with a request in his eyes. ‘Can we? Please?'

Shocked, I tucked the phone's headset into my shoulder and made a hand gesture to remind him to wash his hands in every room.

When I tagged along as his escort, I caught details the families might not have shared with me as a social worker, but the kids let their guards down around Santa. He visited patients for almost two hours until I reluctantly pulled him out of the final room at the end of my shift.

I always work Christmas … and this year had turned into the best one ever.