I hate shutting him out, but if I open that door even a crack, everything I’m holding together might spill out. And he doesn’t deserve to bear that weight, even if he would gladly do so.
“That means a lot,” I say, meaning it. Because I love my parents.
The truck rumbles as he pulls up to the hospital entrance, the tires running over a patch of frozen slush. He parks but doesn’t turn it off.
Looking past him through the glass door of the lobby, I spot a string of garland taped to the reception desk. It’s rather pathetic, but at least they’re trying to add holiday spirit to a place filled with trauma. That small effort means something.
Dad reaches over and gives my arm a comforting squeeze. “We love you, Bubbles. No matter what.”
“I love you, too. Thanks for the ride.”
“Anything for you. I better get going before I have to drive slower than Mr. Gonzales.”
I laugh thinking about the ninety-two-year-old who somehow still has his license. “He once waved at me through a four-way stop with both hands off the wheel.”
“God bless him.” Dad chuckles, shaking his head.
I tighten my jacket around me, getting ready for the quick yet chilly walk inside. “I’ll see you next week for hockey and more family time.”
“Now go do what you do best.”
“You mean bossing around doctors twice my age and sneaking patients snacks from the staff break room?”
“Exactly. Save a few lives while you’re at it.”
Checking in on my last patient, an elderly man who has asked what day it is three times in under ten minutes, I update his chart before handing off to the nurse taking over. The hospital gives us a bit more flexibility during the holidays, which means longer breaks.
After wishing my colleague happy holidays, I make my way down the hall toward Teddy’s room.
“Merry Christmas,Theodore,” I greet him the moment I step in, emphasizing his full name to make him smile.
Sure enough, the corners of his mouth tug upward beneath his backward black cap. “Merry Christmas, IvySuzanneCampbell.”
“Suzanne is a beautiful name, but not mine, I’m afraid.”
Teddy presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “What is it then?”
“Sunday. You guessed the S part right,” I admit with a chuckle.
“As in the weekend?”
A hum slips out. “My parents couldn’t agree on my middle name, so Nonna told them the answer is in the birthday. I was born in early August, so it could’ve been that, too.”
Teddy tries to prop himself up, his elbow wobbling against the mattress. Before he topples sideways, I steady him. “You on break?” he asks once he catches his breath.
“Yup. Thought I’d spend it with someone who could use the company.”
“I’m stuck here all alone most of the time, so you came to the right place.”
His smile falters, and the truth tucked inside the joke hangs heavy between us. He forces the grin back into place, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Don’t make it sound so tragic,” I tease, bumping his arm gently. “You’ll ruin the holiday spirit.”
He sighs. “But it is. But that’s not what today is all about.”
“What is it about, then?”
“Did I make the nice list this year?”
