Cupid's Christmas (21 page)

Since this was Ray’s fifth telephone call to the hospital, he was also short on patience and long on attitude. “Not enough,” he said sharply. “I want to know what’s wrong with her.”

“That’s something you’ll have to discuss with her doctor.”

“Who is her doctor?”

Marjorie flipped open the chart again. “Doctor Shameer,” she said. “He’s not on duty this evening, but I can transfer you to his voice mail.”

“Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with her?”

Marjorie’s head was killing her and listening to this arrogant jerk wasn’t helping matters. “No I can’t,” she snapped irritably, “and even if I wanted to, there’s a little thing called the patient privacy law.”

“I’m Ray Barrow, her son!”

“Your name is not on the list of those authorized to receive patient information.”

“Whose name is on the list?”

“I’m not allowed to give you that information.”

“This is going nowhere,” he griped. “Just tell Eleanor Barrow to call her son.”

“Okay.” Marjorie hung up the telephone and started to scribble the message on a sticky note but, before she finished writing, Winifred Willkie’s alarm went off and made it look like she was flat lining. “Good grief,” Marjorie gasped and went scurrying down the hall. As it turned out, the woman had simply disconnected herself from the monitor because she had to go to the bathroom, but her roommate claimed that she indeed was having severe pains in her chest. When Marjorie finally returned to the nursing station, Ray’s message had long since been forgotten.

Traci, who’d been visiting her parents in Hoboken, arrived home shortly after midnight. She walked in and found Ray standing beside the wall phone in their Kitchen. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Waiting for Mom to call,” he answered. “She’s in the hospital and…” He went on to explain how he’d heard the crash and finally learned that she was at Jefferson University Hospital. “The problem,” he said, “is that they won’t give me any information about her condition. For all I know—”

“Why didn’t you just go to the hospital and ask her?”

“It was too late by the time I found out. They wouldn’t even put my call through.” When Ray spoke he no longer had the squint of scorn he’d begun to use when talking about his mother. His eyebrows were pinched together and ridges of worry lined his forehead.

Traci walked over, leaned against his chest and hooked her arms around his neck, “If you’re worried about your mom, why don’t you give John Gray a call? He probably knows—”

“I’ve already tried,” he said. “I even drove over there, but nobody’s home.”

That’s when Traci knew Ray was honestly concerned about his mother. After the Labor Day cookout, he’d sworn he’d never again speak to John Gray or any member of his family. “That includes Mom, if she goes ahead with this marriage,” he’d said. But now he’d not just called, he’d actually gone to John’s house.

“What exactly did your mom say in her last message?”

Ray replayed the message on the answering machine.

“She says she’s alright,” Traci said trying to comfort him. “Maybe she just went in for something simple like cosmetic surgery—”

“Mom?”

Traci had to admit such a thing was highly unlikely. She pressed her cheek to Ray’s chest. “Try not to worry, honey. We’ll go visit Mom first thing in the morning.”

That night Ray tossed and twisted, uncomfortable and ill at ease no matter which way he turned. The two times he did doze off, he dreamt of his father and woke feeling another shade guiltier. When the clock ticked off four-thirty, he mumbled, “If Mom is okay I’m gonna make it up to her, I swear I will.” Since Traci was sound asleep, his were the only human ears that heard the promise.

Of course I heard it, but whether or not I believed it is debatable. I’ve heard many such promises before but humans have a way of forgetting vows. They pray please give me this or that and I’ll never ask for another thing—but unfortunately a day or two after they get what they want, they move on to wanting something else. Not all humans are this way, but I always feel a sense of sadness when I come across one who is.

A
lthough visiting hours did not start until ten Ray and Traci circumvented the registration desk and snuck upstairs at eight-thirty. They waited until the nurses at the third floor desk were busy then quietly slipped down the hall and into Room 317.

Eleanor was eating her breakfast when they walked in. “Ray,” she gasped, “How did you—” the shock of seeing him caused a bite of toast with raspberry jam to get stuck in her throat and it took a good ten seconds for her to cough it up.

He began talking before she could say anything more. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” he said. “I know I’ve behaved like a selfish ass, but I’m going to be better. Don’t you worry about a thing, just get well and get out of—”

Once Eleanor had dislodged the toast, she said, “There’s nothing wrong with me, Lindsay’s the one—”

Ray’s expression changed almost instantly. “I should have known,” he snapped. “It’s always about them! John and Lindsay, Lindsay and John! I’m your son, but do you care about me? No! Because of them, you’ve turned your back on your own family!”

“I’ve done no such thing!” Eleanor said, and if you’d bothered to call me back—”

“Call you back—why? So you can tell me about how wonderful—”

“No, so I could tell you that John wants me to give you the house!” Eleanor replied angrily. “You claim the only reason he wants to marry me is to get hold of the few things I own—well, he’s trying to show you that’s not true.”

“I don’t want the house,” Ray grumbled.

“No I suppose you don’t,” Eleanor sighed. “What you want is to go around blaming other people for your unhappiness. John and Lindsay aren’t the ones making you unhappy—you’re doing that to yourself.”

“How am I supposed to feel? If it weren’t for her,” He gave a nod toward Lindsay’s bed, “you wouldn’t be in this hospital. You’d be—”

Eleanor saw a tiny window of opportunity and seized it, “I’d be dead,” she said. “That’s where I’d be. Lindsay’s the one who saved my life.”

Lindsay heard what was said and turned to Eleanor with a look of surprise.

Eleanor spotted the look and rolled over it before Lindsay could voice an objection, “Don’t look so surprised,” she said, “I know I told you that I wasn’t going to tell Ray, but this is something he needs to know.”

Ray stammered, “You mean she…?”

“Yes, she risked her own life to save me. That’s how her leg got broken!” Eleanor could easily enough justify her lie by thinking of it as simply role reversal. “Do you think you would you do the same?” she asked Ray.

“Of course I would,” he answered.

“Of course you would? I doubt that, especially since you’re too busy to even return a telephone call.”

“I said I was sorry. But—”

“There are no buts in life, you either do or you don’t. No moment ever comes around a second time. You have one chance to use each moment, you can use it to love and be happy or you can use it to be angry and hateful. I’m choosing to love and be happy.” She hesitated and looked square into his face, a face that looked exactly like his daddy’s. “And I’m hoping that you can find it in your heart to do the same thing.”

“I will,” Ray said reluctantly. “But it’s not easy to see my mother being somebody else’s—”

“Do you see yourself as someday being a father?”

“Well of course I do.”

“Funny, because I see you as my son—when you become a father, does that mean you’ll no longer be my son?”

“No,” he shook his head sheepishly, “but that’s different.”

“It’s not so different,” Eleanor said, “I’ve been a daughter, a wife, a mother and hopefully one of these days I’ll be a grandmother.”

Traci snickered and gave Ray a poke in the back.

“Now I’ve been blessed with another opportunity to be a wife to the man I love. Second chances don’t come around all that often.  Can’t you please just be happy for me?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ray mumbled. “If you’re happy then I’ll be happy for you.” His words had the sound of a forced apology, but the look of anger was no longer spread across his face. Ray shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “But, you can forget about my taking the house.”

“That’s not something you have to decide right now,” Eleanor smiled.

Ray moved to the side of his mother’s bed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom,” he said, “…and yes, we’ll be there for Thanksgiving.”

No one noticed when John arrived, but apparently he’d been standing in the doorway long enough to hear something that made him smile. When he walked into the room, he looped his arm across Ray’s shoulder and gave a squeeze, “Welcome to the family,” he said.

Luckily Ray couldn’t see what he looked like because his ears had blossomed into the color of a scarlet rose.

I
t might look like everyone is coming out of this unscathed, but unfortunately that’s not quite true.  For a while I figured The Boss was going to gloss over what I’d done to Life Management. I even started believing He might be in agreement with my opinion. Apparently not. He said He’d let it slide this time, but if I used the mega love zap on Life Management again, I’d find myself shoveling coal—I think you know what that means. To prove He meant business he gave me 684 cold case assignments. Every one of them a couple who’d been married for decades. “They’ve lost the joy of their love,” he said, “and it’s up to you to see that they get it back!”

I argued that I’m only supposed to handle matches, not repairs—He said to consider it a penance for the prank I pulled.  Repairs are tough. They make working with someone like Lindsay seem like a piece of cake. Repairs involve humans with years of stored-up slights—forgotten anniversaries, busy schedules, arguments—the list is endless and with that kind of baggage they’re none too quick to forgive or forget. Not only do I have to rekindle all 684 love affairs, but I have to get it done by December thirty-first.

I guess this pretty much nixes any plans I had for a day off.

Eleanor

I
t’s odd how the worst of things sometimes work out to be the best that could have happened. I’d like to sound like the heroine of this story and tell you I was willing to give my life to save Lindsay’s, but the truth of the matter is, I didn’t have time to think about anything. When I saw that car coming toward her, I just did what any mother would do. Yes, I’m well aware that I’m not Lindsay’s mother, but try telling my heart that.

A few weeks back, I figured John and I might have to give up any idea we had about getting married, because both Lindsay and Ray were vehemently opposed to us even seeing each other. Things sure have changed. Oh, we’re not a full-fledged family yet, but at least we’re on the way to becoming one.    

Although I’m not happy to see Lindsay with her leg in a big heavy cast, it’s way better than the alternative. And, selfish though it may sound, the accident did serve a purpose in bringing Ray around. He’s terribly stubborn and once he gets a hate in his heart, he just about never lets go of it. I honestly thought he’d stay mad at me forever. It’s sad how people like Ray can waste so much of their life being angry. They carry around a grudge and wait until the person dies before they can forgive and forget. And, by then it’s too late. Ray did that way with his daddy and when he came running to the hospital, I’ll bet he thought the same thing was going to happen with me.

When I started saying how Lindsay saved my life I spotted the look on her face and figured for sure she was gonna let the cat out of the bag, but apparently she caught on because she didn’t mention a word about how it happened the other way. I know Ray, and if for one minute he thought I risked my life to save Lindsay, he’d hate her and her daddy all the more. I’m not a big advocate of telling lies, but that one was my only shot at bringing Ray around, so I’m hoping it’s something The Lord can live with.

When I got home and started fixing for Thanksgiving Day, I thought back on how Ray sat all by himself at the barbeque. I sure didn’t want that to happen again. I told John he was gonna have to make sure Ray had a good time on Thanksgiving. Ray’s not much of a joiner, I said, so you may have to work to draw him into the conversation.