Page 32 of Garr

“Is it something special?” he asked.

“It’s Christmas week. It’s always special.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Irene held her breath as she saw her favorite ghost walk into the cafeteria, holding the hand of another ghost.

“I told you it would work,” whispered Matthew to his bride. One big arm was draped around her shoulders, his hand squeezing her flesh just above her chest as he spoke softly into her ear.

“Yes. Yes, you did. He looks happy,” she smiled.

“He is happy, and they are perfect for one another. Jonathon will be asking the children if they want to move to our property after the holidays. He doesn’t want to disrupt their lives any more than necessary, but I’ve assured him that they would be welcomed here.”

“I agree with that,” said Irene, nodding. “Besides, even if they didn’t want to move here, Grip would be close and can come back whenever he wants. Maybe it would be good for him not to see Doug and Miguel every day.”

“I think he’s happy for Doug and didn’t realize how much until he met Jonathon. The children are wonderful. I can’t wait for you to meet them,” smiled Matthew. Irene kissed her husband taking stock of what they’d done, all the people they’ve loved sitting around the room.

“Well, it’s almost time for you to get things ready,” smiled Irene.

“I’m about there, my love. The boys have been a great help this year, and I expected nothing less.” The huge truck pulled up outside with two long trailers attached. Sniff honked, and Trak and Miller smiled through the windows at Matthew.

“I believe that’s your ride,” said Irene.

“Grandpa? What’s going on? Where are you going?” asked Luke.

“Are those the animals?” asked Ben. “Are they leaving?”

“Hold up on the questions,” laughed Matthew, raising his hands in defense. “There are some children who need a little cheer before the big night, and for some, this may be their last night here on earth.”

“I see,” smiled Luke. “You’re taking the animals to them.”

“We are,” nodded Matthew. “Santa needs to give them something special. These children are in the hospice ward of the Children’s Hospital. I’m just trying to give them something special one last time.”

“Grandpa,” said Ben, shaking his head. “Do you want some company?”

“I appreciate it, but we’ve got your father and a few others going with us. Some of them are already there unloading the presents. I’ve gotta run, Ben,” he said, kissing his forehead. He stopped in front of Luke, his hand on his shoulders as he stared up into his grandson’s eyes. “Have I told you boys how very proud I am of you lately?”

“You tell us every day, Grandpa,” smiled Luke.

“Well, I need to do better. That’s not enough,” he said with a wink. As he walked out to leave with the seniors, Luke and Ben watched their grandfather. Luke wrapped an arm around his brother, kissing his temple.

Irene watched the exchange and smiled. She wasn’t sure Luke knew it, but he was showing affection to his brother, the same way Gaspar, his father, showed affection to his own brothers. Love was hereditary.

“How are they doing?” asked Matthew with some concern etched on his face. His naturally white beard was longer than usual, his thick head of hair sprinkled with auburn, gray, and white. The red suit was stuffed to make it more believable.

“Some are close, Mr. Matthew,” said the nurse, frowning at him. “Cecile and Neakita won’t make it the night, but they’ve been waiting for you. Tommy and D’Aquan are close as well.”

“I wish I could do more for them,” he said with sad eyes, “but I cannot interfere in this.”

“I know,” she nodded.

Shaneal Bryant was the head R.N. in the children’s hospice ward. Her compassion, angelic nature, and love made her perfect for the job. She’d known Matthew and Irene since she was a child. In fact, she’d been a patient in this very ward when she first met Matthew.

“I realize every year how very lucky I was,” she said, watching the men take the animals out of the trailers. “I still don’t know why God chose me to survive, but I’m grateful.”

“He chose you so that you could be here, doing this,” said Matthew.

“Oh, Trak!” she said, waving at the stoic man. He turned, giving her a half-grin, and waved. “I’m so glad you’re here. We have a young girl, Neakita. She’s from our Choctaw nation. Unfortunately, she’s one of our children that won’t make it through the new year. I’m not sure what’s happened, but her parents and grandparents stopped coming to see her. We’ve tried calling them, but they aren’t answering their phones. I think she could use someone who looks familiar to her.”

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