I washed my hands and whispered to Jean, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Jean whispered, casting on more yarn. “Wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Medical care doesn’t stop for the holidays,” I shrugged.
“I thought you’d be with the guy who played Santa, your … boyfriend?”
My face flushed. “Not my boyfriend.”
“You sure?” she grinned. “From how he looked at you, I figured —”
“Only friends. I’d met him three days before that,” I said, trying not to blur the lines between personal and professional. Her expression was skeptical.
I gestured to Ruby. “What happened?”
“Tet spell,” she said, lips tight. “Dizzy, blue tinge, too tired to eat.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, leaning against the counter. Over the years, I’d been with Ruby and Sarah through many hospitalizations. The doctors managed the treatment, but I could have helped Jean navigate the process.
Plus I wanted to make sure she was ok.
Jean didn't look up from her yarn. “It was Christmas Eve, and I … maybe I overreacted.”
I looked again at Ruby’s peaceful sleeping face and slightly blue lips, then squeezed Jean’s shoulder and told her what she needed. “Sarah would have brought her in too. How are you?”
“Good,” she said with a lip wobble. “Things are good.”
On the bed, Ruby stirred. Her eyes blinked open and when she recognized me, they lit up. I wasn’t supposed to have favorite patients, but I couldn’t help it. Most of my patients were quick intakes and releases, but I developed a special bond with the kids with chronic conditions. A bittersweet bond, because it meant they spent a lot of time here.
“Merry Christmas, Grace!” she said with a stretch overhead, IV pulling taut.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, perching on her bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry,” she said groggily, which was a good sign. When I offered to check in with the nurses about food, she nodded and asked, “Did Santa visit your house?”
My mind flashed to the man who’d arrived late last night. “He did.”
Ruby’s brows furrowed with worry. “Does Santa know I’m here, or did he go to our house?”
I had no idea whether to tell her that he’d dropped off her gifts or not. Jean looked as uncertain as I felt … then I had an idea.
I lifted a brow to ask Jean permission to improvise, and she nodded.
“Want me to call him?” I asked, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.
Ruby’s eyes widened, round as a wreath. “You have Santa’s phone number?”
“Of course, I set up the community room visit,” I said casually.
Her brows scrunched, bracing for disappointment. “Won’t he be tired?”
“He might be, he worked late last night. But I can tell him you’re here, ok?”
She bit her lip, then nodded tentatively.
When Alexander answered, his voice was husky. Shoot, he hadn't slept well in days, I shouldn’t have called.
“Hey Grace,” he said in that low, seductive tone that ignited sparks in my low belly. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Hey there, Santa,” I said cheerfully before he said anything lascivious. “I’m here with Ruby, you might remember her from the cardiac visit?”
“Yes, I remember Ruby,” he said, his tone more precise.
“She and her grandma spent last night here at the hospital. She’s wondering if you left presents at her house or if you’re waiting for her to get home.”
He paused, and the silence rang in my ears.
Why did I call him? I hadn’t thought it through, I only wanted to reassure her. What did I expect him to say? I should have let him sleep, but after he ad-libbed with her about taking the reindeer to the horse track, I’d hoped he’d play along.
I prompted him. “Could you check your list?”
After another pause, his voice was thoughtful. “Do you have my suit?”
My brain whirred about the rumpled business suit I’d peeled off him last night, before realizing he meant … “You don’t have to, I know you’re —“
“Grace,” he said, his tone gruff. “It’s Christmas. Let me do this.”
My heart skipped a beat. Good thing cardiologists regularly visited this room.
