Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(43)



When I look ahead at how things might have been, I know I’ve done the right thing.

So far there’s been no repercussion from The Boss. I’m thinking He probably agrees with what I did. Hopefully, He’ll give Life Management an earful about being a bit more flexible in the future. I’d like nothing more than to hear him tell those guys Love conquers all, but I guess that’s asking for too much.





Cupid…The Prodigal Son



We both know why Eleanor had nothing more than a few cuts and bruises but Doctor Shameer, still brooding over his inaccurate diagnosis, insisted she and Lindsay remain in the hospital overnight.

“There’s no need,” Eleanor argued.

Doctor Shameer remained adamant. “Possible concussion,” he said, “and I’m thinking that perhaps we should check your spine again tomorrow.”

With Thanksgiving only four days off, I knew Eleanor was anxious to get home—I could see her counting up the things that were yet to be done. While Doctor Shameer was looking for an injured spine, Eleanor was wondering where she might find candles in the pumpkin color that would match her tablecloth. After several minutes of going back and forth on the issue, the good doctor said he’d arrange for her and Lindsay to be in the same room, and Eleanor finally gave in—not because she felt she needed further care, but because she was concerned about Lindsay. Despite the rocky start their relationship had begun with, Eleanor had come to think of Lindsay as the daughter she’d never had. And even though Lindsay was the spitting image of Bethany, Eleanor could at times see pieces of herself in the girl.





It was almost nine when they finally settled in the room. After Matthew pulled the curtain between the two beds partway closed, he leaned close to Lindsay and whispered how such a scare had made him realize that he couldn’t live without her. Careful not to bump up against the bruised side of her face, he put his mouth to hers and kissed her in a way she’d never before been kissed—not hard or hungry or passionate, but so gentle that it was like a silken promise landing on her lips. Lindsay’s heartbeat spiked from 82 to 147, and when the monitor began beeping the nurse hurried in to check on her.

With the curtain hiding them from one another John seized the same opportunity, although it was in a somewhat less romantic way. He bent over and snuggled his cheek next to Eleanor’s. “That’s it,” he whispered. “I don’t care who likes it and who doesn’t—we’re getting married right away. I could’ve lost you…”

Eleanor smiled, but behind her smile was the pain of remembering the last conversation with Ray. Being loved in such a way brought great happiness and yet…“We can’t just take our happiness and cause misery to others,” she said sadly, “let’s wait until I can work things out with Ray. He’ll come around. I know he will, sooner…or later.” Eleanor knew it would probably be later—much later. Maybe never.

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” John answered. “After you’ve told Ray what we’ve decided to do, he’ll have no further argument. If he still can’t accept the truth of how we feel, then I’m ready to go ahead without him.”

“Be patient,” she said, and turned her mouth to his.



Once John was gone, Eleanor again tried calling Ray’s number. The answering machine clicked on after the third ring. “Ray, it’s Mom,” she said, “I’m in the Hospital but don’t worry, I’m okay. Call me when you can, I’ve got something important to tell you.” When she hung up the phone, Lindsay said, “You didn’t give him the hospital number.”

“That’s okay,” Eleanor sighed. “I doubt he’d call anyway.”





Some people never realize how treasured a thing is until it’s lost—Ray is just such a person. He argued with his father day and night, but the minute the man stopped breathing, Ray started remembering him as the most saintly man who ever lived. He then turned disagreeable with his mother. Although Eleanor did everything imaginable to coddle the boy, he criticized her every move. And, after twelve years of being a widow, when she finally found her own happiness, he became outraged. But all of that was before he heard the crash, before he lost the connection on Lindsay’s cell phone, before he drove all over town looking for Eleanor, and before he came to believe that wherever she was she needed help—his help.

After Ray tried redialing Lindsay’s cell phone number and got nothing, he waited for a good half-hour thinking she’d call back. When she didn’t, he tried calling John Gray’s number. The telephone rang once, and then the line went dead. He waited five minutes and called again. Same result. He finally got in his car and drove to Eleanor’s house. Using his key, he went inside and walked through room after room looking for her and calling out her name. He even opened closet doors and searched the basement. Nothing. From there he drove to John Gray’s house. He walked up to the front door and pushed the bell at precisely seven-twenty. There was no answer. John was already on his way to the hospital. Ray leaned on the doorbell a dozen times then he walked around back of the house and peered through a window. He could see the television flickering in the family room but other than that there was no sign of life. Reasoning that with the television on someone had to be at home, he stood there rapping his knuckles against the front door for another fifteen minutes.

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