Christmas On Nutcracker Court (31 page)

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Authors: Judy Duarte

BOOK: Christmas On Nutcracker Court
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She reached out and patted his arm. “Hi, Ronnie. You probably don't remember me, but my name's Susan.”
“I know you,” he said. “I have pictures.”
“We gave him a photo album one year for Christmas,” Donna said, “and we bring him pictures of the family to add to it.”
So her in-laws had been keeping Ronnie abreast of his brother and sister-in-law, even if they hadn't taken time to visit him themselves. The thought—or worse, the reality—was heartbreaking, and tears welled in Susan's eyes.
“He asks each year who'll come to the party,” Stan said, “so we were happy when you told Barbie you'd come.”
One tear slipped down Susan's cheek, followed by another, and she swiped them away with her fingers. “Well, I promise not to miss any more parties from now on.”
“Guess what,” Barbie told her brother. “Susan brought brownies. And she made your favorite recipe—the ones with the chocolate fudge icing.”
At that, the man smiled. “I like brownies.”
Susan's cell phone rang, and as she tried to silence the ringtone, she glanced at the display. It was Rosa.
She probably ought to ignore the call, but Rosa wasn't one to chat. So Susan said, “Excuse me. I'll just be a moment, then I'll shut off my phone completely.”
As she flipped open the lid, she spoke into the receiver. “Hi, Rosa. This isn't a good time for me. Can I call you back later this evening?”
“Susan, this isn't Rosa. It's Carlos.”
That was odd, Susan thought. “What's up?”
“Rosa . . .” Carlos's voice cracked, and it seemed to take him a moment to continue. “She's unconscious and on her way to the hospital in an ambulance. I have no idea what's wrong with her, but I thought you and her other friends should know.”
Susan's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “I'll be right there.”
Then she turned to provide the Ferris family with a real excuse to leave, one that was far better than any she could have imagined when she'd first arrived—a reason she no longer wanted to have, yet couldn't ignore.
“One of my dearest friends is being rushed to the hospital,” she explained. “I'm sorry, but I need to be with her. Please forgive me for leaving. I've had a wonderful time. And I'd love to come back and visit again soon.”
“I understand,” Barbie said.
Tears welled in Susan's eyes to the point of overflowing again, and as emotion balled up in her throat, she responded with a nod, then headed for the door.
On the way out, she spotted the elderly couple she'd met at the soup kitchen—Stan and Edna Grainger—coming toward the house.
They moved slowly to accommodate Edna's walker, as did the people accompanying them, a tall, rather attractive man and a red-haired girl who carried a guitar.
Susan stopped briefly to say hello, then quickly excused herself and hurried to the car.
“Dear God,” she prayed. “Please don't let Rosa's illness be serious.”
The thought that it might be critical, that her friend might actually die, was too scary to comprehend.
 
 
Maggie and Lynette entered the double doors to the Pacifica General Hospital ER, which was filled with a hodgepodge of people waiting to be seen or for patients they'd brought in. As the women hurried to the reception desk, Lynette's heart was pounding so hard she could feel the pulsation in her head.
Thank goodness she hadn't needed to make this trip alone.
Before Peter had passed away, he'd spent two days in the ICU, which had left Lynette feeling uneasy in a hospital setting. The day he'd died, she'd sworn she would avoid medical centers unless she was a patient and had no other choice. But that was before she learned of Rosa's collapse.
“Excuse me,” Maggie said to the receptionist behind the desk. “A friend of ours was brought in by an ambulance. Her name is Rosa Alvarado. Can you tell me if she's still here or if she's been admitted?”
“Let me check.”
It felt as though they'd waited for hours, but it was only a matter of minutes when the receptionist said, “Her husband has been taken to a private waiting room. I can show you where he is.”
Moments later, the women were led through a security door and down a hall to a small waiting room, where Carlos sat, his face pale, his eyes wide.
“What happened?” Lynette asked.
“I don't know. We were at the soup kitchen, and she was washing dishes. I was talking to her about Christmas Under the Stars and told her that I wanted to have another meeting. She argued with me, but I'd insisted. And . . .” The man who'd been leaning forward, with his forearms resting on his thighs, began to tear up. “It wasn't a big fight.... I didn't raise my voice . . . But she . . . gripped her chest . . . and . . . crumpled to the ground.”
“Was it a heart attack?” Lynette asked.
“I'm not sure. They won't let me in the room with her.” Carlos lifted his head, yet his shoulders remained slumped. “I always thought that I'd be the first of us to go, but if she . . .” He focused a tear-filled gaze on Lynette, then turned to Maggie. “What am I going to do without her?”
Lynette didn't know how to answer him. She'd lost Peter, and while she'd grieved his passing, they hadn't been together as long as Carlos and Rosa had. And they probably hadn't loved each other as much, either.
“I can't believe this.” Carlos slowly shook his head. “After all the time we've spent on the less fortunate and the time we've given to charity . . . Well, it's just not fair.”
In a sense, Lynette felt the same way Carlos did. The Alvarados did more in a week for the community and the church than Lynette, Helen, or Susan did all year. Rosa still had work to do on earth. Why would God let this happen? Or if worse came to worst, why would He take her away?
Maggie eased forward and placed a hand on the anguished man's shoulder. “It sounds to me as though you think you made a deal with God, and that He didn't hold up His end of the bargain.”
“It's not as though we entered into any kind of covenant,” Carlos said, “but I followed the rules and obeyed His commandments. That should be enough. . . .”
“To earn a ticket to Heaven?” Maggie asked.
Lynette's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Was Maggie suggesting that Rosa was going to die, that she was receiving her just reward?
She certainly deserved it, but what about those who loved her? Those left behind? And what about all the people she'd helped—the homeless, the poor, the downtrodden? Surely her work on earth wasn't finished.
“Heaven is a gift of grace,” Maggie said. “You can't earn your way there.”
“Maybe you're right,” Carlos said. “But didn't Jesus say, ‘Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto Me'?”
“Yes, He did. And we do that out of love for Him and obedience to His Word, not as a means to secure our place in Heaven.” Maggie took the chair next to Carlos. “I don't know why this happened or what the outcome will be. But you need to slow down on your volunteerism. All the work took a toll on Rosa's health.”
Carlos seemed to ponder her words, then ran a hand through his hair. “You're right. I pushed her too hard. And earlier, at the soup kitchen, I argued with her. She was telling me that she was tired, that she didn't think another meeting was necessary, and I refused to listen.”
“Rosa has been breathing hard and dragging herself from one event to another for months. And while she didn't complain—”
“She shouldn't have had to,” Carlos said. “I should have seen the signs, and I failed her.”
Before either Maggie or Lynette could say anything else, a man wearing a white lab coat entered the room. “Mr. Alvarado?”
Carlos got to his feet. “Yes?”
“I'm Dr. Jacobi. I'm afraid your wife has had a heart attack.”
“Is she going to . . . be okay?” Carlos asked.
“It was very serious, and we still have more tests to run, but she's stabilized for the time being.”
“Can I see her?”
“For a few minutes.”
As Carlos followed the doctor out of the room, the women took a seat. Lynette's thoughts were on Rosa, but she couldn't help being a little confused about what Maggie had told Carlos. So she turned in her seat to question the woman who seemed to have her spiritual ducks in a row, wondering if she actually did. “I'm a little confused. You've been telling Susan and me that we need to be doing more for others, yet you just told Carlos that he and Rosa needed to do less. It seems to be a contradiction, unless there's a fine line between not enough and too much.”
“It's more complicated than that,” Maggie said. “A person can't earn God's favor. It's impossible for anyone to be good enough. And it was for that very reason that God, in a loving act of grace, sent His Son to die for anyone willing to accept His gift.”
“I get that part. Those who accept His Son are assured of their place in Heaven. And doing for others is a good thing for us to do. But . . . ?”
“When a person becomes a child of God, he seeks to do the will of the Father—which is to feed the hungry, care for the sick, and provide for the poor. And he rejoices in doing those things because he's experienced God's love and grace himself.”
Lynette still wasn't sure she understood the point Maggie was trying to make. “You mean, when I learned that my hairdresser had fallen upon hard times, and I went out and bought her and her children Christmas presents, I was doing the will of the Father?”
“How did you feel while you were shopping for the gifts? And when you gave them to your hairdresser?”
“Pretty awesome, actually. It was as though I'd somehow done something special and made the world a better place.”
“There you go. It's all in the motivation.”
Lynette thought about that for a while. “So you're saying that Carlos wasn't trying to make the world a better place?”
“I'm sure he was, to an extent. But in his overzealous push to impress God with his good deeds, he failed to see how he was hurting Rosa in the process. And as a husband, he vowed before God and man to love, honor, and cherish his wife.”
Lynette wasn't sure how Maggie, who barely knew them, had come to that conclusion, yet it seemed to be a reasonable assumption.
While she considered all she'd heard, Maggie got to her feet, walked across the small room to the open doorway, and peered into the hall. “Here she comes now.”
“Who?” Lynette asked.
“Susan.”
For a moment, Lynette had completely forgotten about the fact that Susan would be coming to the hospital—and that she was still angry and hurt. Lynette wished she would have apologized sooner, but she hadn't. And now it was long overdue.
Still, in the scheme of things, the hurt her words had caused and making it right seemed pretty minor now.
Would Susan feel the same way?
Maggie stepped away from the doorway, and Susan walked in dressed in black pants, a white blouse, and a red silky Christmas vest.
“What happened?” she asked. “How's Rosa?”
As Maggie filled her in on the details, Lynette struggled to come up with the words that needed to be said, hoping and praying that they'd come to her.
And that when they did, she could handle Susan's reaction—whatever that might be.
Chapter 19
As Susan stood in the center of the small waiting room, with its stark white walls and cold gray chairs, she couldn't believe that Rosa had suffered a serious heart attack.
Still caught up in the innocent, childlike faith she'd just witnessed in some of the residents of Lydia's House earlier, she tried to find a ray of hope in the situation. “If the doctor said she was stable, that means she's going to pull through, don't you think?”
“I'm not sure,” Maggie said. “They're still running tests, so she's probably not out of the woods yet.”
As the hope Susan had tried to hang on to wavered, she released the breath she'd been holding.
It was hard to believe that the woman who'd given so much of herself to her family, friends, and the community might die. Just the thought of never seeing Rosa's smiling face or hearing her laugh again was too much to bear.
“She's going to be okay,” Susan said. “I'm going to hold on to that belief. She's too good and too young to die.”
Maggie placed her hand on Susan's shoulder. “Life is a journey, and no one knows just how long each one will be.”
“Then I'll pray that Rosa's journey isn't finished yet.” It was all Susan could do, all she could hang on to.
Feeling more helpless than her words had indicated, she slipped her hands into the pockets of her Christmas vest, only to finger something hard and round—the copper penny Joseph had given her at the party.
It's a lucky day,
he'd said.
At the time, she'd been touched that he'd shared his good fortune with her, but Susan wasn't feeling very lucky anymore. She pulled the coin from her pocket and looked at it, remembering the disabled man's words.
It's good to share,
he'd said.
That was true, but Susan had very little to offer anyone. Even her hope-filled thoughts hadn't convinced Maggie that things would turn out all right.
She glanced to the corner of the room, where Lynette sat in silence, her expression one of fear and grief.
Was she letting go of hope before they had reason to?
“I suppose it's a good time for us to pray,” Susan said.
“Prayer always helps,” Maggie said, “although it should never be considered a last resort. God likes to hear from His children on a regular basis.”
“You're probably right, but my prayers don't seem to be very effective.” Susan thought about her nightly pleas, about begging God not to let her spend another holiday alone, without the one thing that would make her whole.
“Maybe you've been praying for something you've had all along.” Maggie's blue eyes flashed with something akin to understanding, although that wasn't possible.
Or had she been suggesting that Barbie, Stan, and Donna Ferris were her family? And maybe even Ronnie, too?
Before her visit to Lydia's House, Susan wouldn't have even considered the possibility, let alone been encouraged by it. Yet even if she felt closer to her in-laws now than she had in ages, they weren't the family she'd been praying for, the one in which she'd have a child of her own to hold and love.
At that moment, Lynette, who'd been sitting in a corner of the room, got to her feet and approached Susan.
“I know this is a bad time,” Lynette said, “but I want you to know how sorry I am that I hurt your feelings the other day. You're one of the most honest, trustworthy, well-meaning women I know. And you were the perfect choice to hold on to our poker money. Anyone could have made a mistake in addition. And I shouldn't have pointed it out in front of anyone.”
Right now, none of that seemed to matter anymore. But Susan couldn't quite bring herself to tell Lynette there'd been no harm done.
“I'm also sorry about trying to set up Grant with Carly,” Lynette added. “I truly didn't realize you were interested in him.”
“Maybe not, but you knew I would've liked having a matchmaker of my own. You even teased me about being on a manhunt.”
“Yes, that's true. But you never mentioned the name of the man you were hunting.”
If truth be told, his name hadn't mattered all that much. She'd just wanted to have a special man in her life this Christmas, and hope for a family in the coming year.
And right now, as Susan stood to lose one friend to death, she didn't want to risk losing another to anger or stubbornness.
“I'm sorry, too,” Susan said. “I suppose I've been a little jealous of you.”
“Of me?” Surprise splashed upon Lynette's pretty young face. “Why?”
“Because you're rich and beautiful. And you have everything it takes to attract a husband. You've also got plenty of time to bear a houseful of children, if you want to.”
Lynette seemed to ponder that for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “For what it's worth, I don't
feel
all that lucky. And I doubt that all the money in Fort Knox would make any difference in the way I've always seen myself.”
Susan fingered Joseph's penny, then reached for Lynette's hand and pressed the coin into her palm. “This was freely given to me in love, and I'm giving it to you. If you lose every bit of that inheritance Peter left you, there's enough love in that single penny to see you through anything life throws your way.”
Lynette studied the copper coin as though she'd been given a diamond. And maybe, in a way, she had been given a priceless gem. When she looked up, she said, “Thank you, but I'm not sure I should take this from you.”
“Why not?”
Lynette took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Because you're not the only one feeling badly about Grant going out with Carly.”
Susan wasn't following her.
“I . . .” Lynette looked at Maggie, as though needing a little moral support, then continued. “I'm attracted to Grant, and he asked me to go out with him, too. If I accept, which I'd really like to do, I could end up hurting Carly or you. And it seems as if I'd be breaking some kind of BFF code. Know what I mean?”
“So you'd miss out on a chance at happiness just for me?”
“You're my friend, Susan. And the Lils are the sisters I never had.”
Susan wrapped her arms around Lynette. “Right this moment, with Rosa in there fighting for her life, your love and friendship mean a lot more to me than having a man in my life.”
Before Lynette could respond, Carlos entered the waiting room.
“How's Rosa doing?” Susan asked.
“She's still alive, but she doesn't look good.” A tear slipped down the man's cheek. “Why didn't I realize how sick she was before? Why didn't I insist that she take it easy? Or that she see a doctor?”
Susan didn't know what to say. As it was, she could only tell Carlos that she'd be there for him—and hopefully, for Rosa, if God allowed her journey to continue.
 
 
Even though his mom had told him and Mikey that there wouldn't be a tree or presents this year, Josh was still excited about it being Christmas Eve and was sure it would be a good one. Thanks to Lynette, he and his brother had a really cool gift to give their mother this year, and he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she opened the box and found that pretty scarf.
They might not have a tree, but that didn't matter, either. They'd be going to Mulberry Park for the Christmas program, and if it was anything like last year's event, there'd be plenty of trees lit up and decorated. So who needed to have one in the house?
“Hey, guys,” Mom said, as she entered the living room wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. “Max will be here in a few minutes, and I need to talk to you guys before he comes.”
She probably wanted to tell them the rules, like how to act and what to eat, and while that might have bothered Josh before, he didn't care so much about it now.
After talking to Mr. Tolliver the night he'd come over for dinner, Josh had done some thinking about the things he'd said. And he figured that mothers couldn't help bossing their kids around. It was how they showed their love.
“I thought it might be nice if we prayed together before we went,” Mom said.
Josh wasn't sure why she'd suggest something like that, but he guessed it was okay.
As his mom reached out her hands for the boys to take hold, Josh stepped forward. And there, in the middle of the living room, they came together in a circle and bowed their heads.
“Heavenly Father,” Mom said, “we just want to thank You for seeing us through a difficult year. We thank You for the blessings You've given us—even those we haven't yet seen. Help us to be a blessing to others, not just tonight, but always.”
She paused as if waiting for either Josh or Mikey to chime in with words of their own, but Josh didn't have anything to say—at least, not out loud. He liked to keep his talks with God private.
“Lord,” Mikey finally said, “I know You can do anything, so would You please let it snow tomorrow? Lots of kids have white Christmases, and I've never had one before. Besides, when I told Nick Hastings all about You, he said You weren't real. And I told him that I would prove that You were by asking You to make it snow tomorrow. Please do it so that Nick can believe in You. Amen.”
Josh couldn't help but roll his eyes. Why would Mikey go out on a limb like that? It
never
snowed in Fairbrook.
“Honey,” Mom said, “it's not a good idea to put God to a test like that.”
“But didn't He turn water into wine?” Mikey asked. “And walk on water? And part the Red Sea? God does miracles all the time, Mom, so making it snow in Fairbrook ought to be easy for Him.”
Josh couldn't help but grin. How was their mom going to answer
that
one?
Mikey crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. “All we got to do is believe, Mom.”
“I
do
believe. And while I don't mean to place limits on what God can do, we live on the coast in San Diego County, and the last time it snowed at sea level was . . . Well, it was before I was even born, and it didn't last very long.”
“Are you forgetting that God can do anything?”
“No,” Mom said, “but He also set natural laws into effect, which means there are certain climates that are prone to snow and others that aren't. So I don't want to see you disappointed tomorrow.”
“Maybe I won't be,” he said.
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and his mom let the whole thing go.
“It's not going to snow,” Josh told his brother. “So you might as well think of something to tell that kid when you see him at school in January.”
Mikey just scrunched his nose and made a face.
“Hi, Max,” Mom said, as she let Mr. Tolliver and Hemingway into the house. “Come on in.”
“Are you ready?” the man asked.
“We just need to grab our jackets and the lawn chairs.”
Minutes later, they all piled into Mr. Tolliver's car and drove to Mulberry Park, which was already filling up with people and families spreading out blankets and setting up folding chairs.
The trees at the far end of the park were covered in white blinking lights, and a stage had been set up for the band that would play Christmas carols.
After getting out of the car, they crossed the lawn, making their way through the park. Josh and Mr. Tolliver carried the chairs, while his mom walked beside them and Mikey led Hemingway by his leash.
It was weird, Josh thought. For the first time since his dad had walked out on them, it seemed as though he was part of a family again.
He stole a glance at Mr. Tolliver, who'd said he could call him Max, but Josh didn't know about that. As much as he'd like to have a man to look up to, he wasn't sure Mr. Tolliver was that guy.
It'd be cool to have a stepdad, though—at least, for his mom's sake—but something like that would be too good to be true. After all, his own dad hadn't wanted him or Mikey, so what made him think that a guy who didn't even have a blood connection to them would want to step in and be there for them?
And one divorce was enough for a family to go through.
About the time Josh figured the evening was going to be a nice one anyway, he spotted Ross “the Boss” walking toward him, and his whole world exploded.
Oh, crap. Why did that guy have to go and ruin everyone's Christmas?
Ross glared at Josh as though he would rush over and kick his butt right now—if there weren't a couple of adults with him. And Josh didn't doubt that he would.

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