The Christmas Orphans Club(80)

Why is everyone in such a rush for the next thing? What about appreciating what you have? Because I know from experience that it could be gone any second. I finally have Finn back, things are good with David—or they were until the past month. Why can’t that be enough?

He puts a hand on my knee. “Hannah, you know that just because we met on Christmas, you’ll still be my family even if we don’t spend Christmas together. Like, we can have Arbor Day or Halloween instead. Oh, and I definitely want National Margarita Day. Or we can do something special on Valentine’s Day or Flag Day. What I’m saying is, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. And it doesn’t matter what arbitrary holiday we celebrate that on. It’ll be special because we’re together, not because of the date on the calendar. Hell, we can make up our own holiday. July twenty-third! I’ve always felt like there are too few summer holidays.”

I launch myself at him and wrap my arms around his neck, my tears soaking into his rainbow cape. “I wish I could think of something bigger than I love you,” I say into his shoulder.

“I bigger than I love you, too,” he says into my neck. I think he might be crying, too. “And it’s okay if you love David, too. It’s not one or the other.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. What if after my parents died, I made my life small: existing like a magpie, clinging to my friends like hoarded treasure? Positive it was only a matter of time before anything good was taken from me. That disaster lurked around every corner. What if Brooke did the opposite, and made her life big? Leaping headfirst into every new experience—travel, dating, motherhood—since the time we get here isn’t guaranteed.

Oh god, what have I done?

I think of the ring, the one missing from David’s sock drawer this morning. His words from our fight ring in my head: I’m not sure you need me or even want me now that you have Finn back. What if I pushed him away one too many times? What if it’s too late to have both?

“Finn, I think I really messed up.”

“Priya will forgive you. But I think she was a little right. Maybe more than a little. We’ve all been so caught up in Christmas.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about Ben or that she got fired. I feel awful she was going through that alone. How was I so blind? I’ve fucked everything up so badly. Definitely with Priya, but David, too.” I tell him about the ring that was and then wasn’t. About our fight this morning.

While I wait for him to tell me that yes, I have single-handedly ruined my own relationship—the only serious relationship I’ve ever had—a woman in dress pants and a crimson sweater walks by us. I recognize her from inside the rec room. “I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through. I know how hard this is,” she says in a hushed whisper and as she passes. At first, I think she’s talking about Priya or David and wonder how she knows, but then I look at Finn’s tear-streaked face, which must match my own. The two of us sitting on a bench in the hallway of the children’s wing of a hospital.

“Oh no, we’re not—” I rush to cover.

“Thank you,” Finn says at the same time. When she reaches the end of the hall and ducks into a bathroom, we exchange a look. Finn’s shoulders heave with silent laughter.

“It’s not funny,” I tell him.

“Hey, you were the one gawking at the sick kids in the first place. I was going along with your bit. I was yes, anding you.” He straightens his shoulders, and a serious look comes over him. “Look, I don’t think it’s too late to fix things with David. You need to talk to him, tell him that you messed up. Call him and tell him everything you just told me. There are still”—he looks down at his phone in his lap—“four and a half hours left of Christmas.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” I feel anything but okay. I feel panicky and out of breath. “I can do that,” I say mostly to convince myself. I grab my phone from my dress pocket and tap David’s name in my favorites list.

The phone rings.

And rings.

And rings.

Voicemail.

He’s probably sitting around the Christmas tree with his family, fielding questions about why I’m not there. By now they’ve collectively decided that they hate me and are telling him how much better he can do. When I end the call, it feels like pressing the red disconnect button signals the end of our relationship, as well.

“He didn’t answer,” I say, even though it’s obvious. I try again, but get the same result “We should probably get out of here before someone else thinks our kid died. And I need to talk to Priya, too. At least maybe I can put things right with her.”

“I’ll meet you down there,” Finn says, “I should go find Theo. I think he’s still wandering the hospital looking for you.” He gives a guilty grimace.



* * *



? ? ?

?I’m standing outside what I think is Priya’s ER cubicle. It’s the third one on the right past the door, but is that the correct door? Was it actually the fourth cubicle? Since there’s only a curtain and no real door, I take a deep breath and say, “Knock, knock!” I sound like a nosy neighbor in a sitcom, but it’s better than walking in on a half-naked old man in the midst of a heart attack.

“Hello?” Priya’s voice comes from inside the cubicle in front of me. She sounds groggy.