Robyn Neeley - Christmas Dinner

When she opened them, Tate was the only one left in the room with her body. He hadn’t left her side.

He pulled her hand gently to his lips and kissed it. “Well, Ace. What a year it has been since that bus ride.”

“What is he doing? Grandpa, is he saying goodbye to me?”

Tate continued. “I want to thank you. I was floundering, so afraid to finally meet you—and then when I did, I was too afraid to tell you that I loved you. I never thought I was good enough to be in your life. The way I acted when we first met on that cold Christmas Eve night . . . But you saw past my stupidity. You gave me a reason to . . .”

He stopped. Amanda could tell he was choking back tears. “To become the man you knew I’d grow up to be. You were my first kiss. You. Not Melanie. I love you, Amanda.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his lucky charm. Slipping the shiny rock in her palm, he closed her hand and leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “We will have Christmas dinner together one day.”

Amanda looked down. She couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain. The buff tabby had suddenly appeared and was twisting its fury body through her legs. She gently scooped up the kitty. Her Grandma and Grandpa Thompson had joined them in the hospital room.

She knew in her heart exactly where she was. “My sweet, sweet Sydney,” she said, kissing her cat who had passed away ten years ago. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“She’s missed you, too,” her grandmother said.

“That’s not fog out there, is it?” Amanda asked.

“No, it’s not. They’re clouds,” Grandpa Thompson answered. “We’re way above them.”

“Am I dead?”

Her grandmother put her arm around her. “No, dear. You’re in a coma.”

She sighed and glanced over at her body, hanging on to life. “Am I going to make it?”

A few seconds went past. Her grandmother broke the silence. “Your injuries are pretty severe. We were surprised by the news that you would be visiting us. We got our letter last month saying you would be arriving soon.”

“Letter?”

“That’s how the angels share the news about who will be next to join us. It gives families time to accept what is going to happen and prepare for the imminent arrival of their loved one.”

“Really? What did it say?”

She pulled out a velvet white envelope from her apron and handed it to Amanda.

Amanda gingerly opened the envelope, pulling out the matching velvet white paper.

Silver cursive words stated that Amanda Noel Turner would be arriving on December 24 at 11:42 P.M. The outside of the envelope was addressed to Bruce and Betty Thompson and dated November 24.

“We’ve never received a letter. We were quite shocked to learn that it was you who would be the first in your family to join us,” Grandpa Thompson said.

“It broke our hearts to read you would be here for Christmas dinner.” Her grandmother touched her arm.

“Christmas dinner,” she repeated. Her eyes rested on the rock Tate had placed in her dying body’s hand. Tate’s special rock that now read Xmas Dinner.

This connection to him, and his link to her mortality, was just too much for her to take. “I’ve missed all of you so much.” She took a few seconds to look in the eyes of each grandparent. “But I don’t think I can stay for Christmas dinner. Not this year.”

Grandmother Thompson was the first to speak. “We know. We thought your stay would be permanent, but as you can see . . .” She motioned to the bed. “You’re quite the fighter.”

“Fighter? Is this the present or future? How long have I been in a coma?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks,” Amanda repeated. This had to be so painful for Tate and her family. She snapped back into the moment. “What do I do? How do I change this?”

“Your fate will take you back to where you belong. You’ll open your eyes soon and you will go back to your family.”

Her grandmother gave Amanda a gentle squeeze and placed her hand on Amanda’s stomach. “You’ll go back and start your own family,” she whispered into hear ear.

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “My family?” She instinctively reached down and touched her stomach. She couldn’t be—could she?

“Hey, you can’t see everything that goes on down there, can you?”

Grandpa Turner gave a hearty chuckle. “Nah, we only see what the big guy in charge wants us to see.”

Amanda felt her cheeks redden, thinking about the shower tryst with Tate. “Good,” she stammered, “I mean, Tate and I have had some doozy fights. I wouldn’t want you to see us acting like children.”

Grandma Thompson squeezed her shoulders. “You ready to go home?”

Amanda blinked back tears. She’d miss her grandparents, but now was not her time. “Yes, I am.”

She walked over to Tate and sat on the edge of the bed. She hoped he could feel her ghostly presence just like her Grandma Turner had felt her granddad’s.

“Tate, I’ve been wrong about so many things. I know everything now, and I understand. I’m so in love with you.” Amanda watched as Tate got up and walked toward the door. Her heart sank. He couldn’t be leaving.

“Don’t you give up on me, Tate Ryan!” she shouted. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who is the better kisser—me or Melanie!” She watched in horror as he walked out the door.

“He couldn’t feel my presence,” she said. “What do I do now? How do I stop this?”

Her grandmother grabbed Amanda’s hand. “All you need to do is open your eyes. We’ll have dinner waiting for when it’s the right time for you to come back. A nice lasagna.” With that, she scooped up the little feline from the floor.

“Goodbye, Amanda,” her grandparents said in unison.

She watched as the three elderly figures disappeared into the white clouds.

“Goodbye,” she said softly. It was comforting to know her deceased grandparents were always watching over her.

She stood over the bed and stared at her lifeless body. What should she do? Open your eyes. The words from Lacy, George, and both her grandmothers echoed in her head.

Praying seemed like the appropriate thing to do. If there was any chance a prayer would be answered, the odds had to be in her favor up here. She hopped onto the bed and began to lie on top of the body. Her body.

She felt a strange sensation as if she were merging with the lifeless figure. “Open your eyes, Amanda,” she chanted over and over, determined to finally do what everyone had advised her to do all along.

She finally understood what they meant.

One Year Later

Today was the day and tonight was the night that Tate Ryan would finally do it. He would get down on one knee and ask the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life with him as his wife.

His hands were slightly trembling as he opened the blue box. He examined its sparkling contents one last time then gently shut the lid. So much had happened this year. This Christmas, he was looking forward to starting a new chapter with the woman he loved.

Amanda stormed into his office and slammed his door. “We need to talk.”

“Hey, Ace, what’s wrong?” He’d thought the days of slammed doors and narrowed eyes were behind them, but glancing at the now crooked clock above his door, apparently they weren’t. “Everything okay?”

Amanda placed both her hands on his desk and leaned forward.

“I gather not.” He put the tiny box back in his pocket.

“I cannot believe you told Melanie she was a better kisser.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Alex said that Brenda told him that Brad said—”

“Stop.” He paused and then laughed. “I know what you’re doing. You want me to admit that you’re a better kisser. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Why won’t you just admit it?” She glanced up at the clock and flew out the door. “This conversation is not over.”

“It never is with you,” he called out. He was fast on her heels, fiddling with a deep red tie that matched her festive red suit perfectly. He loved it when she wore red. It accentuated everything he loved about her.

They walked into the studio. “You’re a jerk.” She took her seat and smoothed her hair.

“But you still love me.” He took his seat next to her.

“Do not.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

“You love birds at it again?” asked Ernie, aiming the camera toward them.

“Hey, I have something for you.” Tate got up from his stool and reached deep into his pants’ pocket.

Amanda put her hand up in protest. “Don’t care. Don’t want it.”

“You’ll want this, Ace. Trust me.”

“I don’t want your stupid rock with its silly Xmas Dinner saying. Keep it in your pocket because you are going to need all the luck you can get,” she warned.

Her twinkling green eyes and devilish grin were dead giveaways that she was really enjoying this banter. “You’re on diaper duty from this day forward.”

Tate laughed and leaned over, placing the robin-egg blue box in front of her. They had decided to wait to get married until Amanda fully recovered from her surgery and extensive doctor visits after the car accident last Christmas Eve. They also wanted to concentrate on her pregnancy—an unexpected gift from that night.

Now that mother and baby, Nicholas, were both fine, there was one thing left for him to do—and given their history, the Christmas season was the perfect time to do it. He realized he wasn’t on bended knee, but it somehow seemed right to do it now.

“Open it,” he said.

“Fine.” She slowly opened the box that revealed a sparkling diamond ring. She lifted it out and read the inscription inside. “Eggnog,” she said softly.