“Alright. I really appreciate you coming with me today.”
“Are you kidding? I think we should make it a new tradition.”
“It always used to be,” I explain. “Last year was the first year I didn’t do it. And although I had the perfect Christmas with you, I did miss spending it with these kids. It’s a pretty neat experience to see how excited they get on Christmas Eve.”
“So you read them ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas?’ And then what do you do?”
“We help pass out gifts that were donated. A lot of the parents spend all their money on medical bills, so providing them with presents isn’t always in their budgets.”
Donna greets Emi and me in the lobby, hugging us both tightly. We exchange holiday greetings before she takes us to the playroom. About thirty children of all ages are seated in the room, some with their parents, some with new toys, all with expectant smiles.
“I’m so glad you agreed to do this again,” she tells me. “It just wasn’t the same last year. You just tell the story better than I can.”
“I’m happy to do it. I’m glad you invited me back.”
Emi and Donna sit in a corner and talk to one another while I read the story to the kids. The younger ones always have such beautiful expressions of wonder and curiosity. It really warms my heart.
After the reading, the children are given two cookies: one as a treat to themselves and one to leave for Santa.
While the parents and nurses help tuck them all into bed, the rest of the volunteers and some of the hospital staff sort through the donations. After all the children are in their rooms, small piles of gifts will be placed outside each child’s room, waiting for them to fall asleep. Nurses check on the children throughout the evening, moving the presents to their rooms once they know they’re sound asleep.
I’ve heard that Christmas morning is one of the most rewarding days at the hospital, as the children wake up to the gifts that Santa left.
“Mister?” one little girl says to me as I begin to meet up with Emi. Her big brown eyes stare up at me through long lashes. I had noticed her during the reading, sitting alone in a chair and playing with a well-loved teddy bear. Her dark brown hair, pushed back by a small plastic tiara, cascades over her shoulders, framing her olive-skinned face. She looks like a little Italian princess. I would guess her age to be about three years old, maybe a little younger than Andrew.
“Yes?” I answer, kneeling down to her level.
“Do you know Santa Claus?” she asks. She puts her tiny hand around the end of my necktie, pulling it lightly as if she is trying to get my full attention. Little does she know she already has it.
“I sure do,” I tell her.
“I never got to tell him what I wanted this year,” she frowns.
“Oh, no?” She shakes her head slowly. “Well, what did you want for Christmas?”
“Teddy’s sick,” she says, handing her stuffed animal to me. The bear is missing one of its button eyes and is coming apart at one of the seams. Stuffing is also bursting out of a hole in one of its arms.
“Did you want Santa to bring you a new one?” I ask her.
“No,” she says hurriedly, taking the bear back from me. “I just want Teddy to be better again.” She frowns as little tears form in her eyes. She sniffles quietly as her lip trembles. “My mommy gave me Teddy.”
“Oh, okay. Well I bet we can make him better. Can I see him one more time? I promise you can have him back.”
She slowly holds the bear out again and hands it to me.
“Hmmm...” I tell her. “I’m no doctor, but I think Santa can fix him. I think his elves have just the medicine he needs.”
“Really?” Her big smile brightens the room as her little fingers trace the snowflakes on my silk tie.
“Really,” I tell her. “But I’m afraid I might have to take Teddy with me tonight, so they can do the surgery.”
“No,” she whines quietly, dropping my neckwear and reaching for her toy. “I don’t want him to go.”
“What’s your name?” Emi asks the little girl as she holds her hands behind her back.
“Olivia Sophia DeLuca,” she says, nodding her head with each word, as if she’s practiced it a million times.
“She goes by Livvy,” a nurse standing nearby says.
“Livvy,” Emi repeats. “That’s such a beautiful name!”
“Thank you,” the little girl says. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Emi. And this is Jack.”
“Hi, Memi and Jack,” she says shyly as Emi and I both laugh softly.
“Livvy, can I take a look at your bear?” She nods and hands the teddy bear to Emi.
“Oh, that’ll be easy for the elves to fix,” she says. “I just talked to Santa, though,” Emi tells her, “and he said we need to take him for just a few hours. He’ll be back before you wake up in the morning. And in the meantime, he wants you to take care of this little dog.” Emi touches the stuffed dog’s nose to Livvy’s. Her giggle is loud and contagious, garnering the attention of Donna and a few of the other volunteers. “This little dog can’t find its owner, so Santa wants you to keep an eye on him tonight while the elves are busy fixing Teddy.”
“What’s his name?” Livvy asks, taking the dog from Emi.
“Um... Kitty,” I tell her, as Emi laughs quietly under her breath.
“Kitty?” Livvy asks, scrunching her nose at me. “But it’s a puppy!”
“I know, what a funny name, right?” I lean into her, smiling.
“It is funny,” Livvy agrees with a squeal and a laugh.
“So, Livvy, can you watch Kitty while we take Teddy to the workshop? So the elves can make him better for you?”
“When will he be back?” she asks, her eyes wide with worry.
“He’ll be back in the morning. If you sleep all night, he’ll be right next to you when you wake up,” I tell her, pushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. “So is that okay?”
“And Kitty gets to spend the night?”
“Kitty gets to spend the night,” I assure her. “And if Kitty has fun and gets a good night’s sleep, maybe he would like to stay with you.”
“And Teddy, too?”
“Of course. Teddy, too.”
“Okay,” she agrees.
“It’s a deal?” I ask, holding my hand out to her.
“Deal!” she exclaims with a nod of her head, grabbing one of my fingers with her tiny hand and shaking it.
“Do you want to give Teddy a kiss goodnight before we take him to the elves?” Emi asks.
Livvy puckers her lips and closes her eyes, making a loud smacking noise as Emi touches the bear to her mouth. “Bye, Teddy.”
“You know, Santa’s already on his way here,” a nurse tells Livvy. “You know he can’t stop by until you’re asleep. Are you ready to go to bed?”
Livvy smiles another huge grin and nods. Emi and I watch as the nurse takes the little girl’s hand into hers and begins to lead her down the hallway. Livvy stops suddenly, pulling on the nurse’s scrubs. The nurse leans down as Livvy whispers something in the nurse’s ear.
“Sure you can,” she says, letting go of Livvy’s hand. The little girl turns back around and walks toward us. Emi and I both stoop once more to her level. She hugs Emi first, giving her bear one last kiss, then pulls on my tie a few times, her eyes blinking, curious. Her tiny finger extended, she signals for me to move closer.
I lean in, and as she wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes tightly, she whispers in my ear. “Merry Christmas, Jack.” Her voice is so tiny and quiet, I almost mistake my own name for another word. It almost sounded as if she said “dad.”
“Merry Christmas, Livvy,” I tell her, returning her sweet embrace. “Sleep well, little Contessa,” I whisper softly. She kisses me on the cheek, then runs quickly back to the nurse. Emi and I both stare after her, making sure she makes it to her room.
“God, I hope you can sew, Em,” I laugh.
?
??It’s been fifteen years since Home Ec, but I think I can manage okay. I have a little sewing kit at home that Mom put in my stocking about five years ago. Never even been used, but I found it in the move.”
“Perfect,” I say as I take her hand. “Well, Donna, I guess we will be back in a little bit.”
“I can have one of the other volunteers take care of that,” she offers. “You two probably have a lot going on.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Donna,” Emi says. “I made the promise, I’m going to make sure it gets done. She was precious, just–”
“What is she in the hospital for?” I interrupt.
“She’s just getting over a bout of pneumonia,” a nurse answers.
“She’s in the foster system,” Donna adds, her eyebrows raised. “Her mom died a few months ago of cancer.”
“Really,” I consider. “That’s awful. Poor little Livvy.” I purposely avoid Emi’s eyes. My mind is already churning, but I know it’s too soon. We aren’t even married yet. “Well, we will have Teddy back before Santa comes, I promise,” I tell her.
“Just find one of the nurses. They’ll make sure it gets to her.”
“Penny for your thoughts,” Emi says on our drive home.
“I don’t need a penny,” I tell her.
“Can you pull over for a second?” she asks.
“We’ve got a deadline, Em,” I remind her. “Livvy needs this bear before she wakes up.”
“It will take me thirty minutes, tops, to sew up Teddy.”
“Still, I would hate for her to wake up and him not be there.”
“I want to talk about her.”
“Please, let’s wait until we get home. Okay?” I ask, putting my hand on her knee. “Don’t worry, I want to talk about her, too.”
“Okay.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says as she settles into the couch and begins to mend the stuffed animal.
“I don’t think that you do,” I tell her. “I’m more practical than you’re giving me credit for.”
“But it crossed your mind, didn’t it?”
“Of course it did. I mean, what are the chances?”
“Exactly,” Emi says. “I don’t really know what to think. I mean, think about it. Out of all the children’s hospitals, she’s in the one we go to. She singles you out. Coincidentally, she is an orphan. And she’s the sweetest little girl... and so cute. Is it a sign?”
“There are a lot of things to consider, Em,” I tell her. “You know, we don’t know her history. We don’t know the first thing about foster care or adoption in New York. Maybe someone’s already working on that. We’re not even married yet. You weren’t sure you were cut out to be a mom a few months ago. The signs could point either way.”
“If there is anything I’m certain of, right now, Jack,” she begins, “it’s how much I want you to be the father of my children. However we get them. Seeing you with her tonight... you were so gentle, so caring, so reassuring. You knew all the right things to say. You have never looked so... sexy... as you were tonight.”
“That’s weird,” I laugh.
“I’m completely serious. Jack, I would do anything to be able to give you your own children,” she says, her voice quivering and eyes watering.
“Poppet, we’ve been over this,” I tell her, sitting on the couch next to her. “I don’t care how we become parents... just as long as we do.”
“I know,” she says, taking a deep breath as she sews a patch on the bear’s arm.
“And I don’t care what the doctors say, I will enjoy trying to prove them wrong,” I suggest.
“Well, Jacks, we’ve been over that. It’s not going to happen,” she says with a wistful smile, “but I am certainly not opposed to trying, either... often...”
“I know. Another reason I love you,” I kiss her forehead and wipe away her tears.
“How does he look?” she asks, holding up the stuffed bear.
“I think Livvy will be amazed at how quickly he recovered.”
When we return to the hospital, Emi makes a request of the head nurse. “We made a promise to this little girl that we would get her bear back to her before she woke up,” she explains, “and I just want to make sure it happens. It’s not that we don’t trust you, but would you mind if we went to her room with you?”
“Actually, Donna gave us instructions, that you two should be the ones to take her the bear. And what Donna says, we do. She has done so much for this hospital.”
In the back of my mind, I begin to think that Donna may be behind this chance meeting. Emi and I exchange smiles, knowing glances. We both lean in, and I brush her lips lightly with mine. “Let’s go,” she whispers.
“Let me take you to her room,” the nurse offers.
“How much longer will she be in here?” I ask on the way.
“I think she’s set to be released to her foster parents on Monday.”
“Good,” I sigh. “It must be hard for her, being in here, alone, on Christmas.”
“We make sure it’s a special day for all the kids. There are quite a few children here her age that she’s already made friends with. She’ll have fun.”
The nurse peeks through her door before allowing us to enter. A musical night light casts colorful shadows along all four walls. Livvy is sound asleep with Kitty tucked under her arm. She seems cold, curled up in a little ball under the covers. Her ear is cool to the touch as I tuck her bangs behind it.
“Is there another blanket?” I softly ask the nurse.
“Yes, in the dresser,” she points to the furniture next to me. I quietly pull open the drawer and find a soft afghan, placing it over her body. Emi tucks part of it over her ear, smoothing her hair down.
“Goodnight, Contessa,” I say softly, tucking the bear under the blanket next to her, where she is certain to see it as soon as she opens her eyes in the morning. Emi clings to my arm as we watch her sleep for a few minutes.
Once in the elevator to the parking garage, she wraps her arms around me.
As it reaches our floor, she looks up at me, her eyes pleading.
“Jack...” I smile and take her hand, walking next to her to my car. “You already have a nickname for her.”
“I’m calling my lawyer first thing in the morning.” She entwines her fingers with mine and squeezes tightly.
“But it’s Christmas,” she reminds me as we get into the car.
“This can’t wait.” We have to try.
It was a relatively sleepless night for both of us. When we got home, we immediately started researching the foster system and adoption in New York, just so we could be informed and a little prepared. The process would not be easy... and the odds were certainly not in our favor. But we both felt it was worth a try... that Livvy was worth a try. And eventually, we realized that any child we could take in and provide a loving home to was worth our efforts. If not Livvy, the child meant for us would come along.
Of course we both fell in love with Livvy at first sight. Anyone would. It’s difficult to not get our hopes up. When we finally went to bed, emotions were still high, and through our love making, we healed old wounds. We assured each other of our commitments. We eased one another’s fears. We quelled insecurities and encouraged strengths. We proved that the love we share would get us through anything. And it would.
In the end, we make a decision, the only one that makes sense: that we will do everything in our power to help Livvy find a good home– even if it isn’t ours. It’s the only thing that gives us peace of mind.
The following morning, after a shower and a lengthy conversation with my lawyer, I meet Emi in the living room where she has started a fire and lay down on the couch. The last two Christmas presents sit in the middle of the coffee table. I bypass them both and lie down on top of Emi, kissing her deeply. Her familiar moans tell me what I want to hear.
“I love you,” I tell her, my lips traveling to her neck.
“You are amazing,” she responds,
her fingers tangled in my hair. “What did the lawyer say?” she whispers breathily as I unbutton her blouse and kiss her just below her collarbone.
“He said,” I kiss her breast, “to keep our options open,” her taut stomach, “and to keep exploring all avenues.” I unbutton her jeans, pull them down just slightly and kiss each hip. “So that’s what I intend to do.” Her hands cling desperately to my shirt, pulling it over my head. My lips find hers again as her hands unfasten the button and zipper of my pants. She pushes at the waistline, but I take over, removing the rest of my clothes and hers as well.
“This avenue takes us nowhere,” she says, her tone playful, not a hint of sadness. I pull away from her, cock one of my eyebrows at her and smile.
“Really? I beg to differ. This avenue has taken us to many, many,” I shift slightly, teasing her, “many incredible places.”
“Oh, yes,” she sighs. “I remember now. I like those places.” She pulls my mouth back to hers.
“I know you do,” I whisper between kisses.
“Take me... now... please...” Her hands grab my waist, and I exhale slowly at the sound of her gasp.
I wake up to Emi kissing me, her naked body lying on top of mine.
“Did I fall asleep?” I ask.
“I think you’re exhausted,” she answers. “Can I make a proposition?”
“Of course,” I answer.
“Why don’t we open our presents– because I can’t wait to give you yours– and then we can go back to bed for the rest of the day.
“I think that’s a great idea.” She climbs off of me and begins to dress herself again. I pull my pants back on and add another log to the fire before assuming my place next to her on the couch.
“You first,” Emi encourages me.
“No, you go,” I yawn.
“Nuh-uh. You first,” she argues. “And wake up.” She pokes me in the side and I tickle her in retaliation. She takes my hands into hers, holding them still.
“Alright,” I concede, picking up the small box addressed to me.
“I made you immortal,” she says excitedly as I unwrap the gift. After lifting the lid and moving the tissue paper aside, the title of a small book stares back at me. Our Father, Who Art in Brooklyn. “Okay, let me explain,” she chimes in as I pick up the book curiously. “So, this is the result of my late-night freelance work. I’ve been illustrating for a friend of mine who’s writing some children’s books. And her series is about a single dad raising his two children alone.”