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The Christmas Hope(37)

By:Donna VanLiere


“It’s in my coat pocket.”

Meghan sat on the edge of the bed. “Why are you getting it now?”

“I really need to see what’s in that box.”

Meghan put her feet on the floor and pushed herself off from the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nathan said.

“I’m going with you.”

He tried to help her back into bed. “No. It’s too late. Go back to sleep.”

“Like I can sleep now! I want to see what’s in the box, too.”

“You’re going to turn our son into a night owl.”

“Trust me, this baby’s already a night owl. It’s been kicking me all night.”

“A football player in the making,” Nathan said, turning the light on in the hallway.

Meghan rolled her eyes. It was too early in the morning to argue. She followed Nathan to the front hallway, where he opened the closet door and pulled the gift out of his coat pocket. They walked into the living room and sat down.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re thinking?” Meghan asked.

“Do you remember how I told you that med students will never forget the first time they have to tell someone that a loved one has died?”

She nodded. “What’s that got to do with the gift?”

“Four years ago, on Christmas Eve, paramedics brought in a young guy who had fallen asleep at the wheel. His car went right up under a tractor-trailer. I was part of the team that tried to save him. I saw this gift on the floor and I assumed it had to have been in his pocket so I picked it up and set it aside but there wasn’t an opportunity to ask him about it. He wasn’t making it and we knew it. We tried to save him but we couldn’t, and before I knew it, there was his mother asking about him, wanting to see him, but he was gone. The attending physicians were busy and she was in the hall asking about her son. I was terrified. I couldn’t look at her and tell her that her eighteen-year-old son was dead so I tried to find the attendings, but they had their hands full with two shooting victims so there I was trying to stay out of sight, but the mother was wandering the halls looking for somebody who could tell her something.” He shook his head. “I hated that night.”

“So this gift was with that boy who died?”

“I don’t know. I remember seeing it the next day on the admittance desk and I put it in my locker so I’d be sure to track down who it belonged to. It didn’t take long for it to get buried, pushed to the back of my locker, and I forgot all about it.”

“How’d you remember the boy’s name?”

“I don’t remember. I can remember that night but I can’t remember his name or his mother’s face.” When he went to med school Nathan had assumed that he would remember the faces of tragedy he dealt with but over time names and faces always blurred. He felt guilty until several doctors told him they found that to be their experience as well. Nathan thought of it as God’s grace that he couldn’t remember every detail like faces or names but could always recall the emotions he felt. “I think I ran into his mother this week,” he said.

“Did you recognize her?”

Nathan tore the green wrapping from the gift. “No. But I only saw her for a few minutes that night in the ER and I was so nervous that I can’t remember anything about her.” He threw the wrapping paper on the floor, opened a black velvet box and pulled out an antique pocket watch that was nestled in the middle of a tarnished gold holder. Nathan took out the watch and hung it onto the hook at the top of the holder.

“It’s beautiful,” Meghan said. Nathan turned the watch over and read the engraving: “Mom, Always … S.”

At the bottom of the box was a gift card. He looked to the bottom of it but again, the signature was simply S. Nathan picked up the phone and dialed.

“Who are you calling?” Meghan said.

“The ER at County. I’m hoping an old friend will be on duty tonight. If not, somebody else could help.” He asked for Dr. Lee and smiled when he was put on hold. “He’s there,” he said, moving the phone from his mouth. The phone clicked on the other end.

“Twice in one week,” Rory said. “What’s going on?”

“Do you feel like hunting down that needle in the haystack we talked about?”

“Did you think of a name?”

“The last name’s Addison. Check files for Christmas Eve four years ago. If you can tell me a first name that’d be great, but better than that, I’m hoping his personal effects were logged in that night.”

“When do you need it?”

“As soon as your Christmas spirit allows you to move on it.” Nathan heard shouting in the background. It was another busy night in the ER.