Page 73 of Take Me Home for Christmas

“You’re welcome.” He smiled a giant smile. “And yes, you will.”

Rylee’s chart said that she was tolerating her induction phase chemo very well. She’d continue to be hit hard with the chemo agents for another few weeks. Today in clinic, we’d done another lumbar puncture and given her an infusion of intrathecal chemo into her spinal canal. She was on medication to protect herstomach, for nausea, prophylaxis for pneumonia, and for mouth sores.

But despite all this rather dry information, I walked in to see two little girls, heads together, giggling and clearly conspiring over something. Rylee wore a multicolored crocheted cap with a big yarn flower over her ear. I suspected that her hair was well on its way to falling out. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, but her eyes were bright. And she was smiling.

Reagan wore the same kind of hat, but in different colors.

Becca and Ryan were sitting together, watching their girls. I noticed they were tightly holding hands, a sign that they were figuratively holding their breath, waiting to hear about Rylee’s progress.

“I’m trying new hairstyles for when Rylee’s grows back,” Reagan said, taking off her hat and showing me that she was now sporting a short pixie haircut.

I touched a curl. “Cute. What do you think, Rylee?”

“It’s nice,” she said, surveying her sister, “but when my hair grows back, I’m never cutting it again.”

“Like Rapunzel?” I asked, and the girls giggled.

“We made you something,” Rylee said, nodding to her mom, who reached beside her and pulled out a poster.

A sign that said,Thank you, Dr. Mia, all in glitter. They’d clearly made good use of the glitter pens I’d given them. I was truly touched. This was a bright spot in my otherwise gray day.

“We know you’re moving on to another rotation, and we wanted to say thank you,” Becca explained.

“It’s so awesome,” I looked over the sign that was embellished with literally every color of glitter imaginable. “But girls, do you think you used enough glitter?”

That got more giggles from both of them. I couldn’t tell you how good a sound that was.

A short, staccato knock sounded on the door, and a second later, Dr. March joined us, greeting the Hunters. I gave a little summary of how Rylee was doing and what her labs showed.

“Fantastic,” Dr. March said. She outlined the plan for finishing the induction phase and the tests and chemo that would follow. Everything was looking positive as they left to enjoy the rest of the holidays as best as they could.

It was late in the afternoon and the clinic staff had left, anxious to begin their holiday. I decided on impulse to go back into the exam room to chart my note. And, to be honest, to simply take a minute. Fresh paper covering had been rolled down to cover the exam table, the stool had been tucked underneath the desk, and all was quiet except for the soft buzz of traffic outside on the street.

The glitter sign was still on the desk. Maybe it was all the emotional stress I was under, but I couldn’t help remembering two very different little girls from a long time ago, my sister and me.

“I love you so much.” I looked up suddenly from my charting. I’d heard Grace’s voice for the first time in many years, clear as a crisp winter breeze. The room was still silent—and empty. No one was there but me, but I could feel her. I could literally sense my sister in the room.

She wasn’t saying that she was proud of me or beseeching me to help sick children or even telling me what path to take. She was just…smiling at me. Not that I saw her; Ifelther smiling.

Okay, I’ve read accounts of weird things happening. And let’s face it, I was desperate—the heartbreak, the job thing, the stress of the fake-boyfriend weekend. Compared to the heartache I’d suffered when Charlie cheated on me, this felt a thousand times worse. Holding myself together at work today had taken every ounce of strength I possessed. But I could tell you beyond a doubt that Isensedsomething, in the way that people claim tofeel a strong, intense presence long after their loved ones have passed. It’s like the sensation you experience when you wake up from a vivid dream and feel certain that it was real.

Countless times, I’d wished that Grace was with me, sharing something that I knew she’d think was hilarious or something that had special meaning between us. But I’d never sensed this—well, I can only describe it as apresence.

I somehow knew she was okay. More than okay. Like, maybe she didn’t get to fulfill her potential on earth. But maybe she was doing it…somewhere else. At least, that was what I believed.

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I had so much I wanted to say. Years’ worth of things.

LikeStay, please stay. Or,When will I see you again? There was so much more I wanted to know. And I needed to tell her how much I missed her.

“They remind me of us,” Grace said.

“Exactly,” I said, tearing up. “Just like us.”

“Mia, can I talk to you about something?”

I jumped at Dr. March’s voice behind me. I’d thought she’d gone home for the day. How long had she been standing in the doorway?

A strange void filled me. That waking-up-from-a-dream sensation of being so close to something, and then suddenly, it was gone.

---