One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (20 page)

“I think I'm going to head home, Anna,” she said, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “I'm not much for driving in bad weather.”

Anna turned back to her. “Well, I can't say I blame you. But you'll have to pry Sarah away from the dessert table.”

Kate glanced at her daughter, whose obvious delight in the wonderland of sweets brought a fleeting smile to Kate's face. “We'll just have to get a plate to go. How about you? Will you be okay getting home?” she asked worriedly.

“Oh, absolutely. Fred and Jenny have a four-wheel drive. In fact, if you want to wait, you could ride with us and just leave your car here.”

Kate considered the offer for a moment, then regretfully shook her head. “Thanks, Anna. I'd love to take you up on that, but I need the car for school tomorrow.”

“Well, you be careful then, okay?”

“I will.”

By the time Kate and Sarah were strapped into their older-model compact car, the icy mixture had intensified. Kate glanced nervously at Sarah, but fortunately she was so busy sampling her smorgasbord of desserts that she seemed oblivious to her mother's tension. Which
was just as well, Kate concluded. With any luck, they'd be home before Sarah even made a dent in her plate of goodies.

 

Eric swung into the church parking lot, skidding slightly as he made the turn. For the first time he realized that it was sleeting. He'd been so distraught since he'd left the hospital that he hadn't even noticed the weather. He'd simply turned on the windshield defroster and made the drive to the church on automatic pilot, his mind in a turmoil.

Was there anything else he could have done? he asked himself for the dozenth time in the last hour. Had he reacted quickly enough? Had he pushed the tests through as rapidly as possible? Would it have made any difference if they'd made the diagnosis even half an hour sooner? And dear God, how did you explain to two grief-stricken parents that you'd let their only child die? They'd stared at him numbly, in shock and disbelief, and all he'd been able to say was, “I'm sorry.” “Inadequate” didn't even come close to describing those words.

Eric parked the car and took a long, shaky breath. Even after years of dealing with scenarios like this, he'd never gotten used to it. Some doctors learned to insulate themselves from the pain. He never had. On nights like this it ripped through him like a knife, leaving his heart in shreds, his spirits crushed.

Wearily he climbed out of the car and made his way toward the church hall. He wasn't in the mood to see anyone, not even Kate, but he'd promised to come if he could. And he wasn't a man who gave his word lightly. So when he'd left the hospital he'd just automatically headed in this direction.

“Heavens, Eric, are you all right?”

Anna met him inside the door, her face a mask of concern.

He jammed his hands into the deep pockets of his jacket. “Not especially.”

“Kate told me about your patient. Did he…”

“He didn't make it.” His voice was flat and lifeless.

Anna's eyes filled with tears and she reached out to touch his arm. “Oh, Eric, I'm sorry. I know how losses like this tear you up.”

“I'm in great shape compared to the parents.”

“I know you did all you could,” Anna said quietly.

He sighed and wearily raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I hope so.” He glanced around the room and frowned. “Is the pageant over?”

“It's been over for twenty minutes. Would you like some coffee?”

Distractedly he shook his head, his gaze once more scanning the room. “Where's Kate? And Sarah?”

“They left about five minutes ago. Kate said she didn't want to wait in case the weather got any worse.”

For the first time since leaving the hospital his mind switched gears. Kate hated to drive in this kind of weather. And now she was out there on roads that were rapidly becoming treacherous, probably as terrified as she'd been on the drive home from Tennessee. His frown deepened and he turned toward the door.

“I'll call you tomorrow, Mom,” he called over his shoulder, not waiting for a reply.

As Eric set off on the familiar route from the church to Kate's apartment, his heart began to hammer against his rib cage. He drove as quickly as the deteriorating conditions would allow, peering ahead, his hands gripping the wheel.
Please, Lord, watch over her,
he prayed.
Let her feel Your presence and Your guiding hand.

By the time he caught sight of her, she was only about a mile from her apartment. She was driving slowly and cautiously, but she was safe, he reassured himself, his shoulders sagging in relief. In a couple of minutes he'd be right behind her, and a few minutes after that, she'd be home.

Eric watched as Kate stopped at an intersection. She took plenty of time to look in both directions, then continued across. But for some reason she stopped right in the middle. Or perhaps her car stalled or got stuck on the ice. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he suddenly saw headlights approaching too quickly, heard the squeal of brakes, and then watched in horror as the other car slammed into the passenger side of Kate's vehicle.

For the second time in a handful of hours, Eric felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. He stepped on the accelerator, oblivious to the road conditions, and skidded to a stop with only inches to spare. The other driver was already out of his car and clearly unhurt.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Eric shouted as he slipped and slid across the icy surface. The man nodded. “Call 911,” Eric barked harshly.

He didn't want to look inside Kate's car. But he had no choice. Hiding from what was inside the car was as impossible as hiding from what was in his heart.

He tried Sarah's door first, but it was too smashed to budge and he couldn't tell how seriously hurt she was by peering in the window. All he knew was that she was crying.

Eric moved around to the driver's side as quickly as the icy conditions would allow, and when he pulled open the door the wrenching sound of Sarah's sobbing spilled out. Kate was leaning across the seat, frantically trying to unbuckle her daughter's seat belt, but she was too
constrained by her own. Eric reached in and unsnapped it, freeing her.

“Kate, are you all right?”

If she heard him, she didn't respond. Her attention was focused solely on her daughter.

He tried again, this time more forcefully, his hands firmly on her shoulders, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Kate, look at me. I need to know if you're all right.”

She turned then, her eyes frantic. For a moment she didn't even seem to recognize him, and when she did, her face crumpled. “Eric? Oh, God, where were you? We needed you! Please…help us! Help Sarah!”

Eric felt as if a knife had just been thrust into his heart and ruthlessly twisted. Those few words, and the look of hurt and betrayal on her face, sent his world crashing so rapidly that it left him reeling. But he couldn't think about that now. There were other, more pressing things that demanded his attention.

“Kate, are you hurt?” he repeated, his voice broken and raspy.

Jerkily she shook her head, then clutched at his arm. “No. I'm okay. Please…just help Sarah!”

“I'm going to. Can you get out? I can't get in from her side.”

Kate nodded and scrambled out, swaying unsteadily as she stood. He reached for her, but she shook him off impatiently, clinging to the frigid metal of the car as the sleet stung her face. “Go to Sarah.”

Eric climbed into the front seat and reached over to touch Sarah, speaking softly. “Sarah, it's Dr. Eric. I'm going to help you, okay? Sarah? Can you look at me?”

Her sobbing abated slightly and she turned to him,
her eyes wide with fear. At first he thought the dark splotches on her face were blood and his stomach lurched. But then he noticed the plate of cake and cookies on the floor and realized it was chocolate. He drew a steadying breath.

“Sarah, can you tell me what hurts?”

“M-my ar-arm,” she said tearfully.

“I'll tell you what. I'm going to unbuckle your seat belt and take a look, okay?” He tried to keep his voice calm and matter-of-fact, but it took every ounce of discipline he had.

“I want my mommy,” Sarah declared, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

“I'm here, Sarah.” Kate leaned into the car. “Do what Dr. Eric says, okay?”

She sniffled. “Okay.”

“Sarah, honey, can you turn toward me? I just want to take a look at your arm. I promise I'll try not to hurt you.” Eric reached over and unsnapped her seat belt as he spoke, holding it away from her body as it slid into its holder.

She angled toward him slightly, her sobs subsiding. Fortunately she was wearing a down-filled parka, he noted. It had probably padded her somewhat from the impact. But it also hampered his exam. He reached over and took her small hand in his, forcing himself to smile.

“It looks like you had chocolate cake tonight. Was it good?” he asked, gently manipulating her arm.

“Yes. But I didn't get to finish it.”

“Well, we'll just have to get you some more. Maybe your very own cake.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“Really.” He unzipped her parka and eased it off her shoulders. “Do you want chocolate or yellow?”

“Chocolate.”

“Ah. A woman after my own heart.” He carefully pressed her arm in critical places through the thin knit of her sweater, slowly working his way up. “I think that's a good choice. Chocolate or white icing?”

“Chocolate. And maybe it could have— Ouch!” She gave a startled yelp when he reached her elbow.

“I'm sorry, honey. Does it hurt up here, too?” Carefully he pressed along her upper arm to her shoulder. Silently she shook her head.

“How is everything in here, Doctor?”

Eric turned, suddenly aware of the flashing red lights reflecting off the icy pavement. A police officer was looking into the car.

“Nothing too serious, as far as I can tell.”

“Should I call an ambulance?”

That would only upset Kate and Sarah even more, he decided. “I'll take them to the hospital.”

“Okay. I'll send one of my men over to take a statement.”

Eric nodded, then turned back to Sarah and draped the parka over her shoulders. “I don't want to hurt your arm, honey. Can you scoot over and put your other arm around my neck?”

Sarah nodded, and a moment later he eased himself out of the car, with Sarah in his arms. Kate reached out to her daughter and touched her face, then turned anxious eyes to Eric.

“I don't think there's any real damage,” he said reassuringly. “But I'd like to get you both checked out at the hospital, just to be sure.”

Kate shook her head. “I'm fine. I'm just worried about Sarah.”

Kate didn't look fine. She looked terrible. Her face was colorless and she was visibly shaking. But he wasn't about to stand around in the sleet and argue.

“Hold on to my arm. We'll take my car.”

She frowned. “What about my car? Is it drivable?”

“Yes, ma'm,” the police officer replied, coming up next to them. “The keys are still in the ignition, so if you'll give us your address, we'll drop it off when we're finished here.”

Kate complied, and a few moments later they were on their way to the hospital. Though Eric tried to convince Kate to be examined, she refused.

“I told you, Eric. I'm not hurt. Just shaken up. I'll feel much better when I know for sure that Sarah is all right.”

Which she was, except for a badly bruised elbow, Eric concluded after a complete exam at the hospital. Kate's shoulders sagged with relief when he told her, and she lifted a weary, trembling hand to her forehead as tears spilled out of her eyes.

“Thank God!” she whispered fervently.

Eric wanted to reach out to Kate, wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. Wanted to feel the comfort of
her
arms. But he held himself back. Her words at the accident scene, though spoken in a moment of panic and fear, had seared themselves into his soul, “Where were you? We needed you!” In circumstances like that, people often said what was truly in their heart. Cindy had just been more direct about it. “You're never there when I need you,” had been her frequent refrain. And she had been right. Just as Kate had been right a couple of hours before. If he'd attended the pageant,
as he'd promised, the accident would never have happened. They would have stayed for the social, and their paths would never have crossed with the other driver. Once again, his profession had gotten in the way of his private life—and with consequences that could have been so much worse. And it could very likely happen again. Which led Eric to the disheartening conclusion he'd reached long ago.

Marriage and medicine didn't mix.

S
omething was very wrong.

Kate frowned and slowly replaced the receiver, then turned to stare out the window at the leaden skies and the barren trees cloaked in a dull, gray fog.
Everything
suddenly looked gray to her, she realized, her eyes misting with tears—including the future that so recently had seemed golden.

Ever since the accident four days ago, Eric had been like a different person. He'd brought Sarah her own miniature chocolate cake, just as he'd promised in the car on the night of the accident. He'd offered to drive Kate anywhere she needed to go, even though she had a rental car while her own was being repaired. He checked daily to see how she and Sarah were doing. In fact, she'd just hung up from his call. But in many ways she felt as if she'd been talking to a polite stranger. There was a distance between them, an almost palpable separation that made her feel cold and afraid.

At first Kate thought it was because of the little boy he'd lost. And that probably
was
part of it, she reflected. He wasn't the kind of man who would ever be able to
insulate his heart from such a tragedy. But the distance she felt was due to more than that, she was sure. For some reason the accident that had damaged her car had also damaged something far more valuable—their relationship. And she wasn't sure why. She'd tried to bring it up a couple of times, but Eric had simply said that he was busy at work, and they could talk about it after the holidays. Which did nothing to ease her mind.

Restlessly Kate rose and began to pace, her worry deepening. Eric was slipping away. She could feel it as surely as she'd felt the sting of sleet against her cheeks on the night of the accident. And she couldn't let that happen. Not without a fight, anyway. Not when she'd begun to build her whole future around this special man. But how did you fight an unknown enemy? How did you tackle a phantom, a shadow?

Kate didn't know. But suddenly she thought of someone who might.

 

“Kate! This is a surprise!” Amy exclaimed. “Did you change your mind and decide to come down for Christmas? You know you and Eric and Sarah are more than welcome. And you won't even have to put up with Wally this time. I'm pleased to report that our guest has thankfully been returned to his owner in good health and with good riddance, just in time for the holidays. Hallelujah!”

Kate found herself smiling despite her anxiety. “Since you did such a good job, maybe Cal's friend will ask you to iguana-sit again next year.”

“Bite your tongue!” Amy declared in horror.

“Just a thought.”

“And not a good one. But speaking of good thoughts, I'm serious about the invitation. Do you think you can
drag that hardworking doctor down here for a quick visit?”

Kate played with the phone cord. “Frankly, I doubt I could convince him to visit anyone. Even me.”

There was a moment of silence while Amy processed this information. When she spoke, her voice was laced with concern. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I honestly don't know,” Kate admitted, struggling to control the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. “It's just that ever since the accident, he…”

“Whoa! Back up! What accident?” Amy demanded in alarm.

A pang of guilt ricocheted through Kate. She should have told Amy sooner, but she'd had other things on her mind—namely her relationship with Eric. “It wasn't bad, Amy. Don't worry. Some guy ran into our car the other night on the way back from the Christmas pageant. It was sleeting, and he lost control.”

“Are you and Sarah all right?”

“Sarah's elbow is bruised, but it's nothing serious. I'm fine.”

“How about Eric?”

Kate frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Was he hurt?”

“Oh. He wasn't in the car. He was delayed at the hospital. By the time he got to church we'd left, so he followed us. He was right behind us when the accident happened.”

“You mean he saw the whole thing?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! That must have played havoc with his nerves. It gives me chills just to think about it. And that's when things changed between the two of you?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe he's just upset, Kate,” Amy speculated. “Watching something like that unfold in front of your eyes, seeing people you care about in danger and not being able to do anything about it… It probably shook him up pretty badly.”

“I know. And to make matters worse, he'd just lost a patient.” Kate briefly explained about the little boy with meningitis.

“Oh, Kate!” Amy exclaimed in horror. “Having met Eric, I imagine he was devastated.”

“Yes, he was.”

“Okay, so let's try to piece this together,” she reasoned. “He'd already had a terrible day at the hospital. Then, not only did he disappoint Sarah, who was looking forward to having him at the pageant, but he wasn't able to drive you. You told me once that his first marriage was more or less a disaster, largely because of conflicts between his career and personal life. And that for a long time he was afraid marriage and medicine didn't mix. Maybe those old fears have resurfaced. He probably figures that if he had taken you, the accident might never have happened. But his job got in the way.” She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was thoughtful. “You know, I'd lay odds that right now he's waging a pretty intense battle with guilt. And fear.”

As usual, Amy's analytical mind had distilled the essence of the situation. “You might be right,” Kate conceded.

“Maybe he thinks you're upset because he didn't make the pageant. Maybe he thinks you blame him for what happened.”

“But that's ridiculous! It wasn't his fault!”

“Did you tell him that?”

Kate frowned. No, she hadn't. In fact, what
had
she said to him the night of the accident? The whole incident was still so fuzzy. She remembered him pulling open her door, and she recalled the immense relief she'd felt, and her silent “Thank God!” But she hadn't said that. Nor had she said, “I'm so glad you're here,” though she'd thought that, as well. She struggled to remember her first words to him, and was almost sorry when she did, for her heart sank.

“Oh, no! I couldn't have…” she whispered bleakly, closing her eyes, wishing with every ounce of her being that she could take back those accusatory words, spoken without thinking, in a moment of panic.

“Kate? What is it?”

“I just remembered what I said when Eric arrived on the accident scene,” she said in dismay.

“What?”

Kate drew a deep breath. “Basically, I implied that he wasn't there for us when we needed him. Which of course only played right into the guilt he was already feeling. Big time. Oh, Amy, what am I going to do? I didn't mean it the way it came out! I was just so frightened and worried about Sarah. I don't even know where those words came from. He must have felt like he was reliving a nightmare. Just when he was starting to believe that marriage and medicine
could
mix, I say something stupid like that and blow the whole thing. He had enough guilt laid on him in his first marriage to last a lifetime. He's sure not going to put himself in that position again. No wonder he backed off!”

“You do have a problem,” Amy conceded soberly. “Up until that point, do you think things were getting pretty…serious?”

“Very. In fact, I think he was…” She swallowed past
the lump in her throat. “I think he was going to ask me to marry him, Amy.”

“Were you going to accept?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can't let this setback stand in the way,” she declared resolutely.

“But I can't take back those words. And he isn't likely to forget them.”

“I agree. What you need now are some more words.”

“Do you want to explain that?”

“Let me ask you something first, Kate. How much do you love Eric?”

“So much that I can't even imagine a future without him anymore,” she replied softly, without hesitation.

“Then you love him enough to do something totally out of character?”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Kate asked, suddenly cautious.

“Just answer the question.”

Kate drew a deep breath. She wasn't sure she was going to be comfortable with whatever Amy was going to suggest. But she also knew that her sister's advice would be sound. It always was. “Yes.”

“Good,” Amy declared with satisfaction. “Because I have a plan.”

 

Eric frowned as he pulled up in front of his mother's house. Why was Kate's car here? He and Anna were supposed to pick up Kate and Sarah later, in time for Christmas Eve services, and they were all going to spend the day together tomorrow. Kate had canceled her usual holiday trip to Amy's when they'd made those arrange
ments. If she hadn't, he would have begged off from the whole thing. It was bound to be awkward.

Eric knew that Kate was confused and troubled by the change in their relationship. The intimacy they'd begun to create had been replaced by polite formality, the closeness by distance. In fact, if Christmas hadn't been only days away, he'd have cut the ties entirely by now, as painful as that would be. God knew, it wasn't what he wanted to do. But he felt he had no choice. During the last few weeks he'd gradually begun to believe that with Kate, things could be different; that she wouldn't come to resent the demands of his profession—and ultimately him—as Cindy had. And yet, in a moment of crisis, at a time when the heart often spoke truths even
it
hadn't recognized, she'd voiced a resentment, a blame, that had pierced him to his very core. He doubted whether she even recalled what she'd said. But though
she
might not remember her words, they were ones
he
could never forget.

Eric closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel as his gut twisted painfully. With all his heart he wished there was a way out of this dilemma, an answer to the same question that had plagued him during his marriage to Cindy: where did his first loyalty lie? It was a conflict he'd never been able to reconcile. Cindy had made her opinion clear. And—intentionally or not—so had Kate. He desperately wished he could promise her it would never happen again, but that would be a lie. It
would
happen again. And again. And again. Until finally she, too, grew disillusioned and bitter. He couldn't do that to her. Or to himself.

Wearily Eric climbed out of the car. For everyone's sake he needed to be upbeat for the holiday. There would be time for sadness, for dealing with the loss of a dream,
later. But getting through the next thirty-six hours with even a semblance of holiday cheer wasn't going to be easy.

The fragrant smell of pine mingling with the aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him as he stepped inside the door, and he paused for a moment to let the warm, comforting holiday smells work their soothing magic. They took him back many years, to the happy days of his boyhood, and his lips curved up at the pleasant memories. If only life could be as simple as it had been in those idyllic days of youth, when the most pressing question he faced was whether there would be a shiny red bike under the tree, come Christmas morning.

“Eric! I thought I heard you,” Anna greeted him with a smile as she stepped into the small foyer.

“Hello, Mom.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you. I'm glad you came early.”

“You asked me to.”

“So I did. It's nice to see you still listen to your mother once in a while,” she teased.

“You know I'm always at your beck and call. But I'm surprised to see that Kate and Sarah are here,” he remarked, striving for a casual tone. “I thought we were picking them up for services later.”

“Well, when Kate called earlier, she sounded awfully lonesome. She and Sarah were all by themselves, so I invited them to come over early. I figured, why not spend the time together? I baked a ham, and there's plenty for two more. I didn't think you'd mind,” she teased.

Eric hadn't said anything to his mother about his plans to stop seeing Kate, and tonight wasn't the time to
break the news—not when he knew she had hopes for a wedding in the not-too-distant future. It would ruin her Christmas. And one ruined Christmas was enough. “Of course not.”

“Hi, Dr. Eric!” Sarah dashed into the hallway and launched herself at him.

He reached down and swept her up. “Hi, yourself, sweetie. How's that elbow?”

She cocked it for him to see. “It's still kind of blue.” Then she put her small arms around his neck and smiled. “You know what?”

His throat tightened. This was something else he was going to miss—the trusting touch of a child who loved him. “What?”

“This is the best Christmas ever!”

Eric's gut clenched again. How he hated to hurt this child! He was sure Kate would find a way to explain their breakup without making him sound like a villain. That was her way. But he sure
felt
like one. And as he looked into Sarah's happy, guileless face, so filled with the optimism of youth, he suddenly felt old.

“Sarah, honey, are you ready to decorate that next batch of cookies?” Anna asked.

“Yes. Do you want a cookie, Dr. Eric? Aunt Anna made them, and I decorated them,” she told him proudly.

“I'll have one a little later,” he promised as he set her down. He glanced at his mother as Sarah scampered back to the kitchen. “Where's Kate?”

“Right here,” she replied breathlessly, coming up behind Anna.

As always, Eric was moved by the translucent beauty of her face. These last few weeks it had seemed almost luminous, filled with a soft light and a peace that
reflected a soul at rest. But today she seemed a bit…different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Her eyes were a little too bright, for one thing. And her face was flushed. There was also an unusual energy radiating from her, making her movements seem agitated. He frowned, both curious and concerned.