Christmas Miracles Page 12

  In bare feet, dressed in my white, black-belted Gi, I took a deep breath and stepped off the blue practice mat. Strolling slowly to meet Josh at the edge of the floor, I struggled to find the right, socially appropriate words to greet him.

  “Thanks for coming,” I said.

  “Thanks for texting me,” he replied, then he gestured toward the blue mats. “That was impressive. Would it be wrong of me to say I’m incredibly turned on right now?”

  The mere sound of his voice caused my blood to quicken. “Would it be wrong to say I’m incredibly flattered?”

  “No,” he replied with some amusement. “Want to get out of here?”

  “Definitely. If you don’t mind waiting for me to take a quick shower?”

  His chest rose and fell with a heavy, teasing sigh. “I’ll do my best to be patient.”

  And I’ll do my best to keep my head on straight, I thought as I made my way to the locker room.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Did he really say that?” Josh asked as we slid into a booth at a nearby diner. “That you weren’t permitted to contact Riley?”

  “That’s right,” I replied. “You’d think, after losing Leah, he might want to reconcile with the son he also lost. Like a second chance. It boggles my mind that he doesn’t see it that way.”

  “From what I recall,” Josh said, “he was always pretty hard on Riley.”

  The waitress arrived, placed two plastic-covered menus in front of us and poured us some water. She took our drink orders and left us alone for a few minutes.

  “What are you going to do?” Josh asked. “Will you still try and get in touch with him?”

  “Of course,” I replied, “and I told my father that. I think he was shocked because it was the first time I ever talked back to him. Then he threatened me with the old cliché: ‘Not while you’re living under my roof.’ I’m not sure how serious he was about that.”

  I continued to read over the menu.

  “Are you worried?” Josh asked.

  “Strangely, no,” I replied. “Though I probably should be because he’s been paying my tuition and letting me live at home rent free for the past couple of years.” I read over the soup and salad choices. “At the same time, I’m twenty-five years old. Maybe I should just move out and get my own bank loan. Then at least I wouldn’t feel like I was wearing a yoke around my neck.”

  “It’s always an option,” Josh agreed. “I’m sure a bank would give you a loan, considering your future career prospects.”

  With a resigned sigh, I set the menu down on the table. “I really don’t want to go home and face more arguments, so thanks for having dinner with me.”

  “No problem,” he replied. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Believe me, I am. Actually, I feel an incredible sense of release—like I was a pressure cooker for the past ten years and someone just lifted the lid.”

  “I hope it wasn’t me,” he casually mentioned, “because your father always considered me a delinquent. He probably thinks it was me who encouraged you to rebel.”

  “It doesn’t matter. But that’s exactly what it was, you know,” I replied indulgently. “A beautiful rebellion. I had this overwhelming, burning urge to defy him. I couldn’t stop myself. After years of biting my tongue, I had to let it all out. Now I understand how Riley must have felt and why he constantly rebelled.”

  “While you girls always toed the line.”

  “Mmm.” I sipped my water and thought about that. “I hate to think we were just submissive. I don’t think that’s what it was.”

  “What do you think it was, then?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe we instinctively knew it was wiser to follow the rules in order to keep the peace, while Riley was the type who liked to poke at a hornet’s nest just to see what would happen.” I reached for my water and sipped it. “When it comes to personality types, my father is definitely a hornet’s nest.”

  “How so?”

  “Probably because of how he was raised. It might surprise you to know that he came from very humble beginnings. I saw a picture of his house once. It was nothing but a shack somewhere out in the boonies of Kentucky. He had eight brothers and sisters and his father was a drunk who beat everyone to within an inch of their lives if they misbehaved, or for no reason at all, I was told. He would come home from the bar, look around at everyone, and just lose it. Mom said that Dad was quite a scrapper with his brothers when he was younger, but when he told her about all that, he promised never to be an abusive husband. I guess he felt that promise didn’t apply to his son.”

  “I didn’t know about that,” Josh said. “Have you ever met your father’s parents?”

  “No, and they’re both long gone now. He doesn’t even keep in touch with his brothers or sisters. I think they’re all still back there. He was the only one who got out and forged a different kind of life. He keeps it pretty quiet, though. Considers it a major skeleton in our closet. That and Riley. When he meets people, he just says he has two daughters.”

  The waitress returned with our sodas and took our food orders. We each chose the same thing: a burger and fries, extra ketchup, no onions.

  After the waitress left, we leaned forward over the table. “It’s weird,” I said. “Even though you and I barely know each other, I feel like you understand the situation better than anyone.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Josh replied, unpretentiously. “But I’m glad you texted me because you were the only thing I could think about today. You and this very strange situation.”

  I was half tempted to reach across the table and touch his hand—he had such strong, manly hands—but I resisted.

  “It is strange,” I agreed. “I had a hard time concentrating, too. I’m worried about that exam tomorrow.”

  “Sorry. Guess I am a bad influence after all.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Is there any way I can help?” he asked. “You could study at my place if you don’t want to go home. I could quiz you or something. At the very least I could bring you coffee.”

  “That would be helpful, actually,” I replied.

  “Which part? The quizzing or the coffee?”

  “Both. It’s an oral exam where we’re put in a situation with a fake patient who presents symptoms and we have to diagnose. You could be the patient. And bring me coffee, too.”

  He inclined his head curiously. “Are you saying we’ll be playing doctor this evening?”

  “That’s exactly what we’ll be doing.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Josh sat back and held his hands up in surrender. “Then I’m definitely your guy.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Unfortunately for Josh, playing doctor didn’t turn out quite like he’d expected because I asked him to mimic symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy and various other female ailments, as it was an obstetrics and gynecology exam. He was a good sport nonetheless, and quizzed me on a number of facts and unique case studies from my notes.

  My mother texted me around 11:00 to ask if I was okay. I assured her I was fine and staying with a friend.

  She didn’t ask the name of the friend and I wondered if she suspected it was Josh. If so, I hoped she wouldn’t mention that to my father or he might storm over here with a SWAT team to rescue me from what he would surely perceive as a hostage situation.

  Josh and I studied until 3:00 a.m., then he insisted that I take his bed while he slept on the sofa. He rose early the next morning to make me a veggie and cheese omelette with coffee, and sent me out the door with a packed lunch to get me through the day.

  * * *

  Despite all my valiant efforts, the exam that morning was a train wreck. I’d never performed so badly at anything in my life. Afterward I had to apologize to my instructor for my embarrassing lack of knowledge and uncharacteristic hesitations.

  It wasn’t that I hadn’t worked hard to prepare, I tried to explain, but clearly I’d missed a lot of mate
rial over the past few weeks. And yes, I was distracted because of my grief over losing my sister and the argument I’d just had with my parents. I told him about that too.

  Josh had been a distraction as well, but I left that part out. I didn’t admit that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was in and out of my head every minute of the day, both during and after the exam. I replayed the details of all our conversations and thought about things I didn’t know about him yet and wanted to ask. I also envisioned the night he was shot after stopping the carjacker on the side of the road.

  I thought of him dying on the operating table.

  Had he really seen and spoken to Leah? Or was he suffering from PTSD, and was I equally unstable to go along with him for the ride?

  These thoughts and questions consumed me, but I couldn’t afford to take any more time off from school. I had no choice but to force myself to purge all those thoughts from my mind as best I could and stay focused on medicine.

  * * *

  It was just past 6:00 p.m. when I got into my car, closed my eyes, and rested my forehead on the steering wheel.

  “You need to go home,” I whispered to myself. “Go home and be normal again.”

  If only it could have been so easy, but the “normal life” I once knew didn’t seem to exist anymore. For one thing, Leah was gone. On top of that, I couldn’t go on pretending to be content with an existence in my father’s house where I was expected to follow his rules and not think or choose anything for myself.

  Over the past forty-eight hours, I’d learned things I couldn’t erase from my mind—like the fact that Leah might have come back from the dead to use Josh as a messenger to deliver information about Riley.

  Or the fact that there might truly be an afterlife. Would this count as legitimate proof?

  Suddenly my phone vibrated in my purse and I jumped. Lifting my head from the steering wheel, I pulled the phone out, swiped a finger across the screen and read the message. It was from Paul: Hey there. Want to Skype tonight?

  Normally I would have said sure, what time? But something resembling a severe claustrophobic response came over me, and I didn’t even want to deal with figuring out how to reply. So I stuffed the phone back into my purse and started the engine.

  This much I knew: I didn’t want to go home.

  All I wanted to do was see Josh.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  I wasn’t surprised when it took Josh awhile to answer the doorbell. He probably had a hard time getting up from chairs and the stairway was a long one.

  At least he was home. I knew that because I could see the lights on in the upstairs windows.

  “Sorry I didn’t call first,” I said when he finally opened the door and found me standing on the step. “I hope it’s okay…just showing up like this. You’re probably worried I’m going to turn into some freeloader or something but I promise I won’t. I just couldn’t go home again. I couldn’t deal with my father today.”

  Josh took hold of my elbow and gently pulled me inside. “Come in. You’re shivering.”

  “Am I?” I hadn’t even realized.

  “Where’s you’re coat?” He looked out the door for my car, which I’d parked down the street. “And the rest of your stuff?”

  It wasn’t until that moment that I glanced down at myself. It was a chilly evening. A cold damp fog had rolled into the harbor and I only wore jeans and a tank top.

  “I must have left my purse in the front seat,” I absent-mindedly replied. “Gosh, I don’t even remember driving over here. I’m a mess.”

  He rubbed at the tops of my arms and shoulders to warm them. “Go upstairs and get a sweatshirt out of one of my drawers. I’ll get your stuff. Do you have your car keys?”

  I opened my palm and held them out. “At least I didn’t leave them in the ignition. Always a bright side, right?”

  He took them from me and waited while I climbed the stairs. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  Five minutes later, I was seated on Josh’s leather sofa staring numbly at CNN on the flat screen TV and feeling guilty about not replying to Paul’s text. It wasn’t like me to avoid talking to him.

  The front door opened. I immediately rose.

  “I shouldn’t have asked you to do that,” I said as I met Josh at the top of the stairs. “Your leg… Are you okay?”

  “It’s good for me,” he replied. “I need to exercise it.” He handed me my purse and carried my jacket and backpack to the chair in the living room. “So the exam didn’t go so well?”

  I shook my head. “I missed a lot while I was away. It’s okay, though. I’m not going to flunk out or anything. My instructor knows the circumstances. He said there would be plenty of time to make it up.”

  Josh gestured toward me. “I see you found a sweatshirt?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  He studied my face for a moment. “You look like you need to eat, Holly. I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  I lay a hand on my belly and realized it was growling like a beast. “That sounds good, actually.”

  As I followed Josh into the kitchen, all thoughts about that unanswered text from Paul floated out of my mind. All I wanted to do was relax and think of other things for a while.

  Chapter Forty

  Josh made two sandwiches—one for each of us. He also set a bottle of honey mustard on the table for dipping, which turned out to be a delicious surprise.

  “Thank you,” I said with a sigh as we finished. “That really hit the spot.”

  “Poof.” He waved a hand. “All the troubles of the day disappear.”

  “I wish,” I replied.

  With a nod of understanding, he carried the plates to the sink. “Let’s go sit down for a bit.”

  Anticipation rose in my chest—a strange, joyful energy that had been a distraction all day long. It was why I felt compelled to come here tonight.

  Sliding my chair back, I followed him into the living room where we sat facing each other at opposite ends of the sofa. I folded one leg up under me, rested my cheek on a hand.

  “I don’t know how I’d be surviving all this without you,” I said.

  “When in fact,” he replied, “none of it would even be happening if not for me. Maybe you should be yelling at me right now.”

  I softly laughed. “You’re right. You’re like a grenade someone threw into my world.” I pondered that for a moment. “Was it Leah who pulled the pin and pitched it? Or is it crazy for me to even think that? Now I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’m the one who needs therapy because everyone knows…there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  Josh nodded. “I know what you’re saying. I’m still not sure I didn’t dream the whole thing, even though it felt real. I’ve been trying to tell myself it was a hallucination because of the pain killers and the coma. That’s a lot easier to accept. And everything did feel a bit surreal whenever she was in the room. At least it seems that way looking back on it.”

  “How will we ever know?” I asked him. “It’s not like you can prove it was real, to yourself or anyone else. If we’re going to play devil’s advocate, maybe what you learned about Riley was in your subconscious somehow because you’d seen or heard things that didn’t register at the time. But still…I find myself looking around, stopping and listening, wondering if Leah is nearby, watching over me. I feel her sometimes, but maybe I just don’t want to let her go. Maybe I’m floating in a sea of grief where I can’t see the shore.” I stared at the wall for a moment, then completely fell apart and shed some tears.

  Josh gathered me into his arms.

  “You must think I’m a total basket case,” I said, hiccupping as I labored to collect myself.

  “You buried your sister a week ago,” he gently replied. “Give yourself a break. This is normal, and I’m sorry if I’ve made things
complicated.” He continued to rub his hand over my shoulder. “You know what else is strange?”

  I wiped a finger under my nose and peered up at him. “What?”

  “I’m glad I got shot.”

  I pulled away and managed a smile as I wiped the tears from eyes. “That is strange.”

  “It hurt like hell, of course,” he continued, “but now that I’m sitting here, I think it was worth it.”

  He pulled me into his arms again and I leaned into the strength of his upper body. His shirt smelled clean, like it had just been laundered. I breathed in the intoxicating scent as if my life depended on it.

  As he stroked his hand lightly over my back, I closed my eyes and relaxed while a tremendous sense of well-being washed over me.

  How odd… I’d just buried my sister, yet I felt like I was floating.

  * * *

  “How is it possible you’re not in a relationship?” I asked Josh a short while later when he returned to the sofa with a roll of tissue from the bathroom—because my eyes were as puffy as cotton balls.

  “I guess I’ve had a run of bad luck,” he replied as he handed me the roll and sat down again.

  I tore off a long section and blew my nose, then wiped both my eyes. “How so?”

  “Dear, sweet Mother of God, where to begin…” He smiled at me. “If you really want to know the embarrassing truth, there’s an engagement ring sitting in a box in a drawer in my bedroom because I was fool enough to want to propose to a woman who was in love with another guy.”

  I set the roll of tissue on the coffee table. “That sucks. When did it happen?”

  “She dumped me the same day I got shot,” Josh said.

  My head drew back in astonishment. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, and maybe that’s why I was so reckless that night. I wasn’t suicidal or anything, but I was definitely wound up.”

  “How long were you with her?”

  “About a year, but it’s a bizarre story.”