“Thanks for being so nice to him. I appreciate it a lot. He was scared to death when I got here.”

Bill smiled as he nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. “He damn near screamed the house down. I wondered what was happening, that's why I came over. Great set of lungs on Master Jamie.” She smiled, and their eyes met. But neither of them acknowledged more than Jamie's broken arm. And it was obvious that they felt awkward with each other. He looked as though he had lost weight too, and he seemed pale and tired, but Christmas was busy for him. There were lots of drunk drivers and broken hips and traumas she couldn't even dream of, like what had happened to Justin, and now Jamie. Though Bill usually only handled the major disasters, like Peter's accident. “You look well,” he said finally, and she nodded, not sure what to respond to him. She could hardly tell him that she thought of him night and day and had figured out how much she loved him. It was a little late for that.

“You must be busy over the holidays,” she said to make idle conversation. Everything else she could have said sounded either argumentative or pathetic. And there was no point trying to sell him something he knew he didn't want. If he had wanted it, or changed his mind, he would have called. His silence was the final message. And she heard it loud and clear.

“I am pretty busy. How's Peter?” He was keeping the conversation to neutral topics, like his patient.

“As good as new,” she smiled, “and madly in love.”

“Good for him. Tell him I said hi.” With that, he looked at his watch and suggested they go back to Jamie. “He should be wide awake now.” He was, and he was asking for Bill and his mother, and he smiled when he saw them. “You didn't forget your promise, did you, champ?” Jamie shook his head with a broad grin, and Bill whipped a marker out of his pocket. He wrote a little poem to him, and drew a little dog, and then signed it, and Jamie was ecstatic.

“You were first, Bill, I promised!”

“You sure did.” Bill smiled at him, and then hugged him, as Liz watched them, feeling her heart ache. This was what she had lost when he walked out of her life on Thanksgiving. But she already knew exactly what she had lost, and there was nothing she could do about it. He had made up his mind.

“You never flew your kite with me,” Jamie said, as he looked at him, and Bill looked a little startled, and then dismayed.

“You're right, I didn't. I'll call your mom someday, and we'll take it out for a spin. Maybe after you get your cast off. How does that sound?”

“Good.” He nodded, satisfied, and Bill lifted him off the gurney, and set him gently on his feet.

“Now, will you stay off that ladder for me?” Jamie nodded, his eyes filled with admiration. Bill was his hero. “And don't climb the Christmas tree either.”

“Mom won't let me.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Now, say hi to Peter and your sisters for me. I'll see you soon, Jamie. Merry Christmas.”

“My daddy died on Christmas,” Jamie informed him, and Liz felt her heart flinch. It was a reminder none of them needed.

“I know,” Bill said respectfully. “I'm sorry, Jamie.”

“Me too. It was a very bad Christmas.”

“I'm sure it was, for your whole family. I hope this one will be better.”

“I asked Santa for a kite like yours, but Mom says he won't bring one. She says we have to buy one.”

“Or make one,” Bill corrected. “What else did you ask Santa for?”

“A puppy, but Mom says we won't get that either, because Carole is allergic. She has asthma. I asked for games too, and a Nerf gun.”

“I'll bet you get those for sure.” Jamie nodded, and thanked him for the cast and for signing it, and then Bill turned his eyes to the child's mother. He could feel her watching them and there was something so sad in her eyes that it burned right through him. “I hope Christmas will be okay for all of you. I know the first year won't be easy.”

“It's got to be better than last year,” she smiled, with her mouth, if not her eyes, and he wanted to push back a lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes, but he didn't think he should. She did it herself a minute later, unaware that he had seen it. “Thank you for being so good to Jamie. I appreciate it.”

“That's what I do. Brute that I am,” he grinned at her, and she looked embarrassed. “I got over it,” he said to put her at ease again, “though I'll admit it smarted for a bit. Girls play dirty,” he said and laughed as he walked them to the door of the ER.

“Not all girls,” she said softly. “Take care, Bill. Merry Christmas.” She waved as she and Jamie left. Carole had gone home to the others while Jamie was in surgery. And Bill stood watching them as they got in the car, and then walked back through the emergency room with his hands in his pockets and his head down.





Chapter 13

When Jamie got home from the hospital, he told everyone he'd seen Bill, and told Peter he'd said hi to him, and then he showed them his cast and where Bill had signed it. He had everyone sign it then, including Carole and his mother. Liz watched him, feeling as though she'd been trapped in a whirlpool all afternoon, with her own emotions whirling all around her. It had been hard seeing Bill, but it was nice too. It was so tantalizing, she had wanted to just reach out and touch him. Or worse yet, tell him she loved him. But she knew that that would have been crazy. He was as far out of her life now as Jack was.

She went to the cemetery to leave flowers for her husband the next day. And she stood there for a long time, thinking of the years they had shared, and the good times they'd had. It all seemed so wasted now, so lost, all because of one terrible moment. It still seemed so unfair. She stood at his grave for a long time, and cried for what they had lost and what he was missing. He would never see his children grow up, or his grandchildren, he wouldn't grow old with her. Everything had stopped, and now they had to go on without him. It was all so very hard.

But the worst agony of all was Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Although she had expected it to be difficult, she had been in no way prepared for how hard it would hit her. It was like a wrecking ball to the chest that hit her in all ways. She missed the joys they had shared, the Christmases when the children were small, the laughter, the promise, the traditions. And then, as she reeled from the blow of her memories, she remembered the horror of their last Christmas morning, watching him lie dying on their office floor with no way to stop the nightmare that befell them. She walked around in a fog all day, crying all the time, and unable to stop, and the children were no better. It was one of the worst days in her life since he had died. And her mother was worried about her when she called. And even more so when she told her she was closing the office.

“I knew you'd have to do that,” her mother said the minute she told her. “Did you lose all your clients?” Nothing had changed in the past year since her dire predictions after the funeral.

“No, Mom, I have too many. I can't keep it up anymore, and I'm tired of it. I don't want to do family law. I'm going to represent children.”

“And who's going to pay?”

Liz smiled at the question. “The court, or their parents, or the agencies that hire me. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing.” Her mother spoke to all the children and told Liz they sounded depressed, which was no wonder. It was a rough Christmas for them all.

And her friend Victoria called her from Aspen. She surprised Liz by saying she had decided to go back into practice part-time, and she made Liz promise that in spite of that, they were going to see more of each other and Liz promised that they would. Victoria was worried about her and the children. She knew it was a brutal Christmas for them, and she was sorry she wasn't there to come over and visit.

But for the rest of the day, the phone was silent. And at the end of the day, Liz took them all to a movie. They were as sad as she was, and they needed some distraction. They went to see a comedy, and the kids laughed, but Liz didn't. She felt as though there were nothing left in her life to laugh at. It was all tragedy and loss, and people who had died or walked away. She soaked in a hot bath after they got home, and just lay there for a long time, thinking of how fast the year had gone and how much had been in it, and in spite of herself, she couldn't help wondering where Bill was. He was probably working. He had always said he hated holidays, that they were for people with families, and he had opted not to have one, after his taste of it at Thanksgiving, although she wasn't entirely sure she blamed him. But she thought he could at least have given it another chance. If he'd been brave enough, which he wasn't. She knew she had to face the fact now that he just didn't want it. He liked the life he had, and he was good at it. She lay in the tub thinking of how kind he'd been to Jamie. He was a terrific doctor, and a decent man.

She went to bed alone that night, just after midnight. Jamie was sleeping in his own room. He had slept in hers once since he got the cast, turned over in the middle of the night, and accidentally hit her with it, and she still had a bruise on her shoulder to show for it. After that, they'd agreed that it would be better if he slept in his own bed till he got the cast off.

“You okay, Mom?” Peter stuck his head in her room when he came upstairs right after she went to bed, and she told him she was, and thanked him for checking. They had stayed close to each other all day, like survivors in the water, clinging to a single life raft. It had been a Christmas they would always remember, not as bad as the last one, but nearly as painful in its own way. All she wanted to do now was go to sleep, and wake up when the holidays were over. But as usual now, sleep eluded her for hours, and she lay in bed, awake, thinking of Jack, and Bill, and her children. And finally, shortly after four o'clock, she drifted off, and thought she was dreaming when she heard the phone ring. She was in such a dead sleep as she reached out for it, that it took her a while to find it, but no one else in the house answered either.