Page 73 of Ten Christmases Without You
“And it’s so cold, I’ve been making hot chocolate in my I Love New York mug.”
She laughed. “You still have that?”
“Yep.”
She closed her eyes again and let the exhilaration of talking to him wash over her.
An ambulance whizzed by, its siren blaring.
“Are you outside your apartment?” he asked.
“No, I’m at Madison’s, in Richmond. But right now, I’m sitting in a coffee shop downtown.”
“That’s speedy. Weren’t youjustin New York?”
She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Over her gingerbread latte, she told Charlie about her dad, leaving the show early, and staying with her sister. Tears pricked her eyes, and her voice wobbled, but she felt relief talking to him. They could pick right up where they left off as if no time had come between them.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to help you with your dad?”
“I don’t think so. We’re just waiting it out. He woke up today, but he’s asleep again.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m exhausted.”
“I can imagine.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” she said, suddenly wondering if all the working was worth missing out on moments like this.
“Same.” His soft breath came though the phone. “This is the first time in four years I haven’t seen you at Christmas. I wondered when our holiday streak would end.”
Emmy was glad he couldn’t see the disappointment that almost certainly flashed across her face when he said that. “I know,” was all she could get out.
Until now, she hadn’t had a chance to stop and realize exactly how much she missed Charlie. With everything she’d been through with her dad, she wished she could have his strong shoulder to lean on.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” he said.
You aren’t.
“I promise to do better at keeping in touch,” she said.
“Me too.”
She ended the call, her focus remaining on the dark phone sitting on the table. If only things could’ve been different with Charlie. What if they’d stayed close during high school? Where would they be today? Would her life have been different? She’d never know.
Throughout the day,they’d all taken turns staying at the hospital, and Madison and Emmy were on the final six-to-eight shift that evening.
Emmy and Madison were chatting quietly in the corner of their dad’s room when he roused again. He’d been in and out all day, mostly incoherent, but he called their names this time.
“Hi, Dad,” Emmy said, getting up. She leaned against his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
“Fair.” She nodded.
Madison came over and sat at the foot of the bed.
“I missed your show,” he said to Emmy.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t really in your control.” She gave him an empathetic smile.
He closed his eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”
