The Nurse Who Saved Christmas (12 page)

“Dirk.” His mother gave him a look that would have stopped him in his tracks during his younger years. “When I spoke with Abby, I’d hoped Philadelphia had been good for you, had removed the blinkers you’ve worn for the last four years. It’s time you dealt with this.”

Something inside Dirk snapped.

“Have you ever considered that I have dealt with this,
only not to everyone else’s satisfaction? Guess what, Mother, I’m the one who has to wake up every single day knowing that I will never look into my wife’s eyes again, that I will never feel Shelby’s fingers wrapped around mine again. You should respect that I’ve dealt with this and let me be.”

“If you’d dealt with this, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we? Because you would have come home for Christmas.”

“What? And be put through the hell of last year? I don’t think so.”

“We hired a top psychiatrist, Dirk. We followed her recommendations to the letter—”

“A psychiatrist?” Oh, God, that was rich. “I’m not crazy.”

“No one thinks you are.”

He paced across the room, spun to meet her gaze. “I was ambushed last Christmas.”

She took a deep breath and didn’t back down. “You were surrounded by people who love you and want what’s best for you. People who want you to enjoy life again.”

“What was best for me is lying in a cemetery in Oak Park.” Dirk couldn’t stop the words from streaming out of his mouth. Couldn’t stop the feelings of hurt and betrayal streaming through him. “Something you conveniently forgot when you planned last year’s fiasco. Tell me, what Christmas torture do you have in store for me tonight? Pictures? Home movies? Personal recollections of my wife and daughter? Because if that’s the case, you should leave now, and take the rest of the family with you.”

A loud gasp caused both Dirk and his mother to spin
toward the kitchen door. Abby held on to the door frame as if she might slide to the floor if she didn’t.

Sharp pain zig-zagged across her face.

Hell. He raked his fingers through his hair. What was wrong with him? He’d never verbally attacked his mother before. Not even last year during the worst of the intervention, right before he’d walked out on them. No, he’d just calmly gotten up, informed them that they were mistaken about him and that he was leaving. And he’d left.

His mother recovered before he did, pasting a weak smile to her face as she regarded Abby. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s rude of us to come into your house and squabble over family disagreements.”

Family disagreements? Dirk wanted to laugh. Was that what they were calling invading his life?

“I came to tell you dinner was finished if you’re ready to eat.” Disillusionment shone on her face and when their eyes met, she quickly averted her gaze from his.

“Dinner would be lovely.” His mother took him by the elbow, gave him a look meant to put him in his place. “Everything smells wonderful. Right, son?”

Dirk gritted his teeth, seeing right through his mother’s ploy. She wanted to pretend everything was okay for Abby’s sake. If they’d cared about him, or Abby, they’d have stayed in Oak Park, wouldn’t have come to stir up the past.

“Right,” he finally agreed, knowing this was going to be a long, long night.

Abby’s face hurt from keeping her fake smile in place, just as she’d kept her smile in place all evening.

“It was so lovely to meet you, dear.” Dirk’s mother leaned forward, engulfing Abby in a giant bear hug. One so real and heartfelt Abby wanted to cry. “At least we know Dirk has someone to look out for him here in Philly.”

Right. But during the terse evening Abby had realized she didn’t want to look out for Dirk. Not under the current circumstances.

Having watched him with his family had only made obvious what she’d admitted to herself weeks ago but had shoved aside, hoping that Dirk could love her. He couldn’t. He had closed off his heart to the world.

If he wasn’t willing to let his own mother in, how was Abby supposed to believe he’d ever let her?

Which was the crux of the matter. After tonight, she didn’t believe.

Dirk had stolen her belief in happily-ever-after, her belief in Christmas miracles. Her belief, period.

In place of the hope-filled woman she’d once been was a disillusioned woman but one determined to be strong woman who’d do what was best for her child.

“Dinner was lovely,” said the next woman in line to head out the front door. A tall, dark-haired woman with eyes identical to Dirk’s. His sister, Jolene. She held a well-bundled toddler in her arms. A toddler who shared the Kelley eyes. Would Abby’s own baby have a similar blue gaze? Would she forever be haunted by the man she’d loved but who hadn’t been able to love her in return?

“Thanks so much for inviting us.” The woman leaned over and kissed Abby’s cheek. “I hope to see you again soon. Maybe Dirk will bring you to Oak Park.”

Abby felt tears pop into her eyes. What kind of man could have a family like this and shut them out?

Oh, he’d lightened up a bit as the evening had progressed, but he’d been out-and-out rude when he’d first arrived. So much so that Abby had planted the fake smile on her face and tried to make his family feel welcome despite his cold regard. Even now, as his mother pulled him into her arms, he wore a slight grimace, stood stiffly rather than embracing her in return.

Abby wanted to hit him. He had this beautiful family, her baby’s family, and he ignored them, held them at arm’s length.

No doubt after his wife and daughter’s deaths things had been rough, but shouldn’t he have leaned on his family, not shut them out?

His brother shook his hand, pulled him into a half-embrace. “Good to see you, man. If you can swing it, we’d love to have you at Christmas.”

Dirk didn’t comment. By his brother’s sigh, Abby figured John knew Dirk had no intention of showing up in Oak Park on Christmas Day.

“He’ll probably sleep most of the day. After all, he’ll have just pulled twenty-four hours in the emergency room.” Why was she defending him? This was his family. Not hers. She shouldn’t be the one working so hard to make things go smoothly. “Driving long distances after working such a long shift really wouldn’t be wise.”

“You’re right, of course.” His mother’s chest rose and fell beneath her heavy coat. “At least he won’t be spending Christmas alone.” She sent Abby a warm smile. “It really was lovely to meet you. Come on, children. Let’s
get this show on the road so Abby can prop her feet up. She looks tired.”

Something in the way Dirk’s mother said the words made Abby meet the woman’s gaze, made her look away because she was sure the woman could see into her soul and see all her secrets. Besides, she
was
tired. After pulling a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, coming home and grabbing only a few hours’ sleep then finishing dinner, she was tuckered out.

It took Dirk’s family another five minutes to completely get out the door, between more goodbyes, hugs, kisses to the cheeks, and kids dashing back in for a cookie for the road.

When the door closed, Abby sagged and didn’t bother to try to hide her fatigue from Dirk. As his family had exited, she’d sensed his mounting tension, had seen the building fire in his eyes, had known they’d argue and was ready to get it over with.

“How could you treat your family that way, Dirk? They love you, drove all that way to spend the evening with you, and you lashed out at them every chance you got.” Her heart had ached for the whole lot of them. Even Dirk. Because in his grief he’d lost much more than his wife and daughter. He’d lost everything that mattered and had no one to blame but himself.

“They had no right to show up here. How could you have invited them without discussing it with me first?”

“This is my house. I can invite whomever I want,” she reminded him, chin lifting a notch. “Besides, your mother wanted to surprise you. I thought you’d be happy to see your family over the holidays.”

“Well, I wasn’t. You want to know why? Because I’m not you. I’m not little Miss Christmas Spirit, spreading good tidings to the whole world. I’m a man who lost his wife and daughter and the world, including his family who should understand, expects him to go on and forget.”

“You weren’t the only one who lost someone they loved when Shelby and Sandra died. Your family loved them, too.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed.

“Whose fault is that, Dirk? I’m pregnant with your baby and yet you’d never introduced me to your family. Even tonight, you acted as if I was no one special.”

“How did you want me to act? You went behind my back.”

“It was supposed to be a pleasant surprise! Something to give you good memories to replace the ones you refuse to let go of.”

“You’d have me forget my wife and daughter?” His eyes blazed, the veins on his neck bulged, his breath hissed.

Needing to put distance between them, Abby turned away, walked over to her Christmas village table, hoping to find comfort in the heirlooms she loved.

“Answer me.” Dirk followed her, gripped her arm, turned her toward his angry face. “Is that what this was about? Making me forget Sandra and Shelby for your own purposes? Being pregnant doesn’t give you the right to go behind my back, Abby.”

“My only purpose was to give you a special Christmas
memory, which you ruined for everyone by closing yourself off to any possibility of having a good time.”

“I have all the special Christmas memories I need.”

“Well, good for you, Dirk,” she bit out, tired, frustrated, hurt, angry at him for his callous attitude. “Maybe you should stop to think about everyone else who might still want new special Christmas memories instead of being such a selfish jerk!”

She jerked back, freeing herself from his grasp and losing her balance. She stumbled, reached out to steady herself. And failed.

I
N HORRID
slow motion Dirk watched disaster unfold, unable to stop what had been set into play, only able to do damage control by reacting quickly.

Reaching out to keep from falling back, Abby had grabbed hold of the table her village sat on. Only she didn’t catch the table. She caught the steeple of the church and kept going, the church traveling with her, knocking pieces of the village left and right.

“No,” she cried as she kept going back, too off balance to do a thing to stop the pending catastrophe as the table tipped. “My mother’s village!”

But rather than saving her houses, Dirk caught hold of her, righting her while the table and its contents crashed to the floor.

The sound of glass crashing into glass sent her cat tearing from the room with a screech.

“Are you okay?” he asked, visually checking her, grateful not to see any blood as she could easily have cut herself on the broken pieces.

“My mother’s village!” She pulled free of him and dropped to her knees, picking up the pieces.

“Those are just things. Are you okay? The baby?”

When he’d watched her falling back, his anger had
dissipated into fear. Fear that she might be hurt, that she might lose the baby.

Abby ignored his questions about her well-being and righted the table. She picked up the church first, noted the missing steeple, the chip at the base. She dug her fingernail into the chipped area and took a deep breath, then continued to pick up piece after piece.

Dirk knew that she connected the decorations with her family, with the connection the three of them had once shared.

He bent to help her, picking up the pieces of the train set and placing them back on the righted table, carefully reconnecting the track, the train engine and cars. Two of the houses were intact, so was the schoolhouse. The carousel had a tiny chip at the base. All the other village houses had larger breaks.

Dirk took her hands into his. “Sit down, Abby. This is only upsetting you. I’ll do the rest, save what can be salvaged.”

“No. I think you’ve already done enough, don’t you?” Her chin lifted. Her eyes blazed, blazed so intently that Dirk winced. He’d never seen that anguish, that pain, that accusation in Abby’s eyes before.

“I didn’t do this, Abby.” But he hadn’t been innocent. He’d been so wrapped up in his own emotions over his family’s “surprise” that he hadn’t considered Abby’s emotions, hadn’t acknowledged that she’d been trying to do something good by having his family there. Instead, he’d attacked the moment they’d walked out the door.

“No, I did this,” she admitted, glaring at him. “I ruined my mother’s Christmas village.”

A coldness had crept into Abby’s voice. A cold
ness he’d never heard from her. A coldness that held finality.

Her fingers clasped tightly the church steeple she held. She looked ready to snap into as many pieces as the village collection had.

She looked like she wanted to snap him into a zillion pieces and toss him out with the trash
.

Abby didn’t say anything more. She couldn’t. Her throat had swollen shut with emotion. Her voice gone. Perhaps for ever.

She stared at the church’s steeple in her shaking hands. Her entire insides shook. Her mother’s Christmas village. Broken.

How could she have been so stupid as to fall into the table? How could she have been so stupid as to fall in love with a man who could never love her back?

“Abby?”

She sucked in a breath, knowing she couldn’t just keep sitting here, staring at the shattered remains of the only tangible things she had of happier times, of her childhood.

The damage was done. There was no undoing it. She’d make do with the best she could, to repair the pieces she could repair. Try not to wonder if fate wasn’t trying to tell her something.

That she might dream of the wonderful Christmas village scenario with Dirk, but all she was going to get was shattered dreams, and the sooner she accepted that, the less she’d have her hopes crushed.

“These are just things. You still have your memo
ries of the Christmases with your parents. That’s what’s important.”

Hearing Dirk say that made something snap inside Abby. Something that perhaps had been on edge from the moment she’d found out she was pregnant. From the moment she’d realized she’d never have her happily-ever-after dream. Never have magical Christmases of her own. Never have what her parents had had. Tonight, watching him with his family, had shattered all hope.

“How dare you call my mother’s Christmas village ‘things’?” she accused. “You, the man who could care less about his family.”

“I care about my family.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You have an odd way of showing it.”

“You don’t understand my relationship with my family.”

“Your family doesn’t understand your relationship with them. Nor do they like it. God, you are so lucky to have a family to love you, but you know what? You don’t deserve them, Dirk.”

His jaw worked as he regarded her. “My relationship with my family is none of your business.”

Unable to sit still another moment, she stood, glared down at him. “You’re right. It’s not. I’m just pregnant with your child. A fact you haven’t bothered to share with your family.”

He stood, did some glaring of his own. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Great excuse, but we’re not talking about anyone. We’re talking about your family. Our baby’s family.” She’d never wanted to shake another human being
before, but at that moment she wanted to shake Dirk. To jar some sense into him. “Are you embarrassed by me? Or were you not planning on telling them about me ever?”

Oh, God. Was that what the problem had been tonight? Dirk hadn’t wanted his family to know about her? Hadn’t wanted them to know he’d knocked up some naive nurse who’d fallen in love with him at first sight? Oh, God. She had fallen in love at first sight. Just as her parents had. Only Dirk hadn’t fallen in love with her. He didn’t even want his family to know she existed, had been a jerk because she’d invited them for Christmas dinner.

“It’s not like that.” He looked as if he’d like to wrap his fingers around her and do some shaking of his own.

“They don’t understand how I feel. No one does.”

Which said it all. Said exactly where she fit into the grand scheme of things. She’d given and given to him. Of her time and her heart. And although Dirk had given of his time, had helped her at her volunteer stints, he hadn’t given her of his heart. Not once.

“Maybe it’s because you keep your heart locked up inside and won’t let anyone close, including your family.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Abby just stared at him.

His look of annoyance grew. “You have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused me by inviting them here.”

Trouble as in they’d be asking about her?

“Well, I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”

His jaw clenched, and he exhaled slowly. “Quit misreading everything I say.”

“Or maybe, for the first time, I’m reading everything the right way,” she said, knowing in her heart that it was true. She’d believed in Dirk’s inner goodness. Had even believed that he’d come around regarding Christmas.

She really had been naive.

If not for her pregnancy, Dirk wouldn’t be there. It was only his sense of responsibility that kept him coming round. Which wasn’t nearly enough to base a future on.

Not nearly enough for her heart.

Abby longed to sob at her loss, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him, wouldn’t let him see how much she hurt. Instead, she turned her back toward him and went to the sofa and collapsed onto the plush upholstery.

“Leave, Dirk. I don’t want you here.” She hadn’t known she was going to say the words, but once they left her lips she knew they were right, the only words she could say. Just like the Christmas village, her dreams, any hope of a future between them was shattered.

Silent, he walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. “You don’t want me to go.”

She gawked at his audacity. “Actually, I do. I saw a side of you tonight I never want to see again. You have no idea how lucky you are to have those people. They love you and want to be a part of your life.”

“They are a part of my life.”

“On the periphery perhaps.”

“I’ve already told you, I talk to them routinely.”

“About what? The weather? Sports? What is it you
talk to them about? Because I got the impression they didn’t know quite what to say to you tonight.”

“There were no conversational lulls.”

“No, there weren’t, but no thanks to you.”

“I warned you that I wasn’t big on company.”

“Family is not the same thing as company. Family is everything.” But not to Dirk. He’d lost the only family that mattered to him, couldn’t see what was within his reach. And Abby had had enough. More than enough. She leapt from her sofa, flung open her front door. “Get out of my house, Dirk.”

“Abby—”

“Leave!” she shouted. “And don’t ever bother me again.”

Without another word, he gave her one last angry look, then left.

Abby started a hep lock while Dirk shined a light into their patient’s eyes.

Since he’d left her house the night before, she’d been fighting melancholy. She’d hoped he’d say he wanted to change, that he wouldn’t leave, that he planned to spend Christmas Day with her. Every day with her for the rest of his life. But she’d known better.

With as much time as they’d spent together over the last week, she’d thought she wouldn’t be alone this Christmas, had believed deep in her heart that she’d spend the day with Dirk. How could she have been so foolish as to get her hopes up? Her hopes had been higher than the North Pole.

What would Dirk do today? Sleep? Flip through television channels? Pretend it was no different from
any other day of the year? He wouldn’t be driving to his mother’s for Christmas, wouldn’t be embracing the wonderful family she envied. More the pity for him.

But that wasn’t her problem. Not any more. She’d meant what she’d told him. She didn’t want him in her life. Not when he refused to acknowledge that what they’d shared had been more than friendship. Not when he refused to open his heart to love again. To open his heart to his family.

Which was why she’d ignored his phone calls today. Why she’d ignored his attempts to talk to her tonight. What was left to be said between them?

She loved Christmas.

He hated Christmas.

She loved family.

He’d shut his out.

Could they be any further apart? She didn’t think so.

“How did you fall?” Dirk asked the patient, pulling Abby back to the present. She bit the inside of her lip. She had to stay focused just a little while longer. Her shift was almost at an end. She could do this. Would do this. Then she’d talk to the nurse supervisor about having her schedule changed, changed to dates when she wouldn’t have to work with Dirk.

“My wife was complaining about the angle of the star on top of the Christmas tree. I climbed a stepladder, and it tipped.”

Dirk’s lips compressed into a tight line. Clearly, he blamed Christmas for the man’s tragedy. Was it easier for him to blame the holidays than to accept that accidents happened? He’d sure been quick enough to point
out that accidents occurred when it had been her village pieces involved.

Village pieces that she’d painstakingly spent the day trying to glue back together.

“Do you recall how you landed? What you hit? How your weight was distributed?”

“It happened kind of fast, Doc.” The man scratched his head with the hand Abby didn’t have stabilized. “I know I hit my head.” The pump knot on his forehead attested to that. “And my right ribs are sore.”

“This happened about eight last night?”

The man nodded.

“What made you decide to come to the hospital this morning?”

“I woke up and couldn’t breathe. I think that’s what woke me.”

“Are you still short of breath?”

The man nodded. “Not as badly as at the house. My wife says I had a panic attack.”

“Your oxygen saturation is ninety-two percent. That’s not too bad,” Dirk explained. “But it’s not as high as it should be in an otherwise healthy person either. I’m going to order a few tests just to check you out and make sure you haven’t fractured any ribs or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Fall injuries can result in serious damage to a person’s body.”

The man nodded. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

As always, Dirk responded to his patient, making Abby wonder how he could smile so sincerely at a virtual stranger and not his own kin. “Maybe you should stay off ladders for a while, too. Ask someone to help you with anything that requires climbing.”

“Tell that to my wife. She has no patience and had to have that star straightened before the kids and grandkids show up in the morning for Christmas celebrations.”

Finishing what she was doing, Abby excused herself and disappeared out of the bay.

The moment she finished giving report, she rushed away, determined to somehow find joy in the most magical day of the year.

Her favorite day of the year.

His least favorite day of the year.

A day she’d spend alone yet again.

Christmas Eve shouldn’t be a busy night in the emergency room, but this one was. Midnight had come and gone, so technically Christmas morning had arrived.

The only thing Dirk liked about Christmas was it meant the end was near. The end of the season, the decorations, the smells, the aggravation and harassment from family.

Yes, the signal that the end of the season was near was the best part of Christmas Day.

Or it had been.

Now he wasn’t so sure. Somehow he’d tangled thoughts of Abby up with Christmas and the thought of the end put his insides in a viselike grip.

The end of Christmas. The end of his relationship with Abby. No, he wouldn’t accept that. Not under the circumstances.

God, his family would be ecstatic when they found out she was pregnant. How many times had they attempted to set him up with someone when he’d lived in Oak Park? How many times had they told him to
find someone new and start over? How many times had they called to say how much they’d liked Abby, what a great cook she was, what a warm house she’d had, what a generous person she’d seemed? And he’d let them, because Abby’s accusations had kept playing over and over in his head.