Light and life to all He brings,
Ris’n with healing in His wings.
I met Zechariah’s gaze, and he smiled—the first smile he’d offered since December 7. I returned the smile and took out the gift the nurses had chosen for him. It was a toy monkey clutching a banana, since he ate so many of them.
As the other nurses spread out into the ward to deliver their gifts, and the corpsmen went from bed to bed, singing carols, I walked over to Zechariah. I held up the monkey, and he frowned—but when I pointed to the banana, he nodded.
“Merry Christmas,” I said as I handed the toy to him. “From all of the nurses to you.”
He accepted the gift and shook his head. “I don’t know whether I should be honored that they appear to know me so well or insulted to be compared to a monkey.”
“Honored,” I assured him.
He set the monkey on the table at his bedside and then turned to me. “I was wondering when I might see you today.”
“We’ve been busy preparing the festivities.”
He glanced out at the room and then back to me. “Can you close the curtain? I’d like a little privacy, if you don’t mind.”
I nodded and pulled the curtain around his bed on the rails that had been set up for that purpose. My nursing uniform had been freshly pressed for the day, and as I reached up to move the curtain, I saw Zechariah admiring my form. When I was done, he patted the spot on the bed next to him.
My heart was pounding so hard it drowned out all the other noises in the room. The caroling faded, the laughter dimmed, and the sounds of surprise from the other sailors died away as I sat on the bed and faced Zechariah in the shadows.
I was careful not to disturb his leg, but he still winced at the movement.
“Any better?” I asked.
He sighed and shook his head.
“You need to get out of bed as often as possible,” I said, knowing what I did about orthopedic care in the twenty-first century. “Movement will help you recover faster.” I’d been encouraging him every day to get up with assistance, but he’d been hesitant, thinking he needed to rest it. “It will help keep up your spirits as well.”
“I don’t want to talk about my leg.” He reached for my hands. “It’s Christmas, and I want to talk about us today.”
My stomach rolled, knowing what I needed to say to him. I could have simply allowed myself to die here and not had this hard conversation, but that would have been the coward’s way out. To Zechariah, I would die in this path, and he would mourn—but at least I would know that I had been honest with him.
It was the right thing to do, even if it hurt.
All I needed to think about was Gray in Lafayette Square tomorrow morning, waiting for my answer, and I had the courage I needed to start.
I looked down at our hands and tried to smile, though myheart was breaking at what I had to say. “I also think we should talk about us,” I began. “But I don’t think what I have to say will be what you want to hear.”
His hands tightened ever so slightly, but I felt it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I looked up into his blue eyes, wishing I didn’t have to hurt him. “I care for you very much, but I think you should know that I’m in love with someone else.”
For several heartbeats he just stared at me, not saying a thing, and I could see the old shields rising up around him. He was going into defense mode, but I desperately needed him to stay open with me.
“He lives in Washington, DC,” I said, wanting to make Gray as real as possible for both Zechariah and me, though I couldn’t tell him everything. “I met him around the same time I met you, and I didn’t know for a long time which way my heart was leading. I came to care for both of you, but in the last few weeks, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on the future and the life I want to live. And in my reflection, I realized that my heart belongs to Gray.”
“Gray?” He said his name in a lifeless tone.
“Graydon Cooper. He’s—he works in the War Department.” I shook my head, knowing it didn’t really matter where Gray worked. “Zechariah, I never meant to hurt you—”
“But you have.” He pulled his hands away, his mouth set, his eyes hard. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Before I made a fool of myself?”
“You didn’t make a fool—and I didn’t know.” I shrugged, helplessly. “It wasn’t until—”
