Fic: Thrill of Hope (CSI:Miami) 3/3

[miss_lucy21]

Chapter 10

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And as I've often asked before
Does anybody know
How scary
This is for you and is for me?
Does anybody know?

“Natasha”, Rufus Wainwright

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Calleigh watched Tim closely on the ten minute walk back to the house. He was definitely fading fast. Too much excitement, she thought. Melissa seemed a bit concerned, too, but Calleigh couldn’t tell if it was because Tim seemed so tired or if something had happened to raise her concern. But Tim seemed mostly fine to her, chatting amiably, if tiredly, with his dad, so she didn’t worry.

They entered the house and kept the cats from escaping, and Tim looked around and said. “Right, then, there’s the air mattress and…”

“I got it, Tim,” Calleigh said quietly. “Why don’t you go on and go to bed, huh?”

“I gotta call Alexx,” he protested.

“Ok, call Alexx, then go to bed. I can make sure everyone gets what they need,” Calleigh said, watching his family disperse into the living room and kitchen.

“Ok,” he acquiesced. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” she said, with a smile. “Go sleep, I’m sure the rest of us won’t be too far behind.”

“All right,” he said. He leaned over to where his mom was sitting. “Night, Mom.”

“Goodnight, sweetie. Sleep tight.”

“I will. Night, Dad,” he said, straightening up.

“Goodnight, Little Man. See you in the morning,” his dad replied.

“Yup,” he said, as he wandered off towards the bedroom.

“Mom, can I call Raina?” Matt asked, poking his head into the living room.

“Sure, sweetie,” Melissa said, with a glance at Calleigh.

“You get pretty good reception out on the porch,” Calleigh said, catching the meaning behind the glance. Obviously Melissa wanted to say something she didn’t necessarily want Matt to hear.

“Great, thanks,” Matt said, disappearing back into the kitchen. They heard the sliding door open and close.

“I didn’t imagine he’d be able to go all day without calling her,” Danny said, amusedly. “Raina’s his girlfriend,” he explained to Calleigh.

“Aw,” Calleigh said, with a smile. “Cute.”

“They are,” Melissa sighed. “Anyway, I’m glad he’s calling her, because I want to ask you something.”

“I guessed,” Calleigh said, nodding as she sat down in the armchair.

“When we were out on the beach,” Melissa started, hesitantly. “Tim and I were talking and then all of a sudden it was like he sort of…shut down a moment. Now, I’m used to Tim kind of spacing out in the middle of a conversation, but not quite like that…”

“Ah,” Calleigh said, as she suddenly understood why Tim had suddenly seemed like he’d hit the wall. “That was probably a not quite panic attack,” she said calmly.

“He said they happen when he gets tired,” Melissa said, nodding.

“Yes. Or overwhelmed. Or upset. Or just at random,” Calleigh sighed. “They’re getting a lot better. If he can pull himself together within a minute or two, we’re not worrying about them. If he can’t, then we have to do something. It’s part of the anxiety issues that the doctor thinks is causing a lot of the problems right now. But really, he’s doing considerably better. There was a long time where he was having several full blown panic attacks a day, and now he’s down to just these little moments most of the time,” she reassured them.

“He said they were getting better, yes,” Melissa said. “It’s just that he’s not always the best judge of that sort of thing.”

Calleigh laughed. “No, he’s really not, is he?” She smiled. “He’s right this time, though. They are getting better. He’s getting better. Believe me, the fact that he had enough energy to go out to dinner and then go down to the beach for awhile is a vast, vast improvement. It’s not so long ago that he was sleeping half the day and 9 or 10 hours at night. He’s almost got enough energy to be bored, even.”

“I hope he’s come up with something to do,” Danny said. “Tim and boredom do not mix.”

“Oh, we’ve noticed,” Calleigh said. “We’re working on it.”

“How long until he can go back to work?” Danny asked.

Calleigh sighed. “It’s not entirely clear. There’s a schedule that puts him back part time in about a month, but I think it’s overly optimistic. I’m sure you noticed how much weight he’s lost?” she asked.

“God, yes, he’s emaciated. I’ve never seen him so skinny,” Melissa said, shuddering slightly. “I didn’t like to say anything, since he can be so self-conscious sometimes, but he wasn’t even this bad when he came back from having run away, and I thought he was much too thin then.”

Danny nodded in agreement. “Can I ask…do you know how much he lost?”

“We’re not entirely sure,” Calleigh admitted. “He weighed 153 at his physical in July, so they used that as the official starting point, since he doesn’t have any idea what he weighed in September. At the lowest point, he was 128.5.”

“My god,” Melissa breathed. “That’s less than I weigh. That’s 25 pounds, almost!”

“I know,” Calleigh nodded. “That was the point where the doctor said if he lost any more they’d admit him to the hospital for a feeding tube. Thankfully, we didn’t have to go that far. To be fair, Alexx and I don’t think he started at 153. We think he’d lost about 5 pounds somewhere between July and September. I remember telling him he was starting to get too thin the week before everything happened, and with as skinny as he is, we usually notice when he gets to be about 5 pounds off of normal. But still, 20 pounds is a lot.”

“Has he gained any back?” Danny asked.

“Three pounds,” Calleigh sighed. “He didn’t gain anything until they got the braces on him, but it’s starting to creep back up now. But it’s been difficult. His appetite is nearly non-existent, although he’s gotten a lot better about eating whether he’s hungry or not. His stomach is still a mess; a good half of the medication he’s on yet is to deal with that. He came pretty close to an ulcer, the doctor said, but we caught it in time.”

“Tim’s been on the edge of an ulcer half his life,” Melissa sighed. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, he said it wasn’t a new thing. But it’s getting treated now, so hopefully it won’t be quite so much of an issue in the future. If you had intentions of feeding him up while you’re here- and by all means, please do so- you might want to stay away from anything really greasy or spicy. Or meat, either. He can eat meat again, but there was a long time where he couldn’t chew it well, so he wasn’t eating it, and now it’s not going over really well,” Calleigh said.

“No problem. But I hope the doctors understand that this is an uphill battle. He’s always been skinny- we spent half of his adolescence trying to keep him from slipping under the 5th percentile, weight wise,” Danny said.

“They’re getting the picture,” Calleigh nodded. “But at any rate, to answer your first question as to when he can go back to work, the doctor won’t approve it until he’s had a net gain of 10 pounds. I’m guessing that probably won’t be until nearly March, if not later.”

“Lord,” Danny sighed. “What does he think about all this?”

Calleigh shrugged. “It’s hard to say. On one hand, I think he’s half relieved. On the other hand, I think he’s a bit frustrated.”

“Poor guy,” Melissa said.

“Yeah,” Calleigh agreed. “He’ll make it, though.”

Tim’s parents seemed to muse on what she’d told them. She let them think in peace. After awhile, she heard the sliding door open again, and Matt wandered into the living room.

“Um, Ms. Duquesne?” he asked, hesitantly.

She smiled. “You can call me Calleigh, Matt. It’s ok,” she said, slightly amused at the propriety.

“Um, yes, ma’am. Uh, Calleigh,” he said, a bit flustered, especially when he realized his parents were also somewhat amused. “I didn’t want to just go rummaging through the cupboards or the fridge, but is there…well, could I maybe get something to eat?” he asked, finally.

Danny laughed. “Maybe we ought to switch your appetite for your brother’s for awhile.”

“That could work,” Calleigh said, laughing as well. “Come on, Matt, let’s see what we’ve got,” she said, getting up and leading him into the kitchen. She opened one of the cupboards and said, “How’s cereal sound?”

“That would be great, thanks,” he said, reaching up to pick one of the boxes as her gesture.

She handed him a bowl and got the milk for him. “Ok, that’s taken care of then. Now, I know you’re probably going to stay up far later than either your parents or me, so if you get hungry again later, you can eat whatever you like. The bread is in the fridge and there’s peanut butter in the cabinet with the cereal. There’s also some fruit in the fridge. Ok?”

“Yes, thank you,” Matt said, ducking to hide a blush.

She laughed. “No problem. Now, speaking of staying up late, just as a warning, everything is on one floor in this house, and the walls aren’t incredibly thick, either. You can feel free to watch TV or something, but remember that the television can be heard in the room where your parents are sleeping if the volume is louder than 15, ok?”

“Got it,” he nodded.

“All right, then. Tim’s got it set up so the DVD player is the default choice, since we watch more DVDs than regular TV. If you want to watch TV, you have to hit the TV button on the remote. Also, the Playstation is in the cabinet under the television. To get it to work, you hit the Input 2 button on the skinny box to the right of the TV. Just don’t overwrite Tim’s Final Fantasy game, or he might have to kill you, ok?” she said, wryly.

Matt laughed. “I won’t.”

“Good deal, then. I’ll just go get the air mattress down for you, and you’ll be all set,” she said, smiling.

“Thanks,” Matt said, as he ate his cereal.

Calleigh went out to the breezeway to get the air mattress and air compressor off the shelf. She also snagged a pillow and a blanket and carried the whole mess back to the living room and set it next to the couch. “There, that’s Matt taken care of,” she said to Melissa and Danny. “I presume he can figure out an air mattress.”

Melissa chuckled. “Oh yes.”

“Good,” she said. “Is there anything I can get for you guys? I know Tim left some towels and things out.”

“He did, and he told me where to find things in the bathroom,” Melissa assured her. “I think we’re probably going to head on to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“No problem,” Calleigh said. “I told Matt how to work the TV, and where to find more food, so I think he’s probably set for the night.”

“Food and television will definitely keep him entertained,” Danny agreed, as he stood up and stretched. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Calleigh. And thank you for answering our questions.”

“Oh, not at all. I’m glad I could,” she said.

“I feel a lot better knowing there’s people here who love him,” Melissa said, seriously. “I still worry, but I don’t worry nearly as much as I would, otherwise.”

Calleigh blushed a bit. “Well, we worry, too.”

“I know, dear. And I’m thankful for that, too,” she said. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Calleigh said, as she nodded to Danny and watched them poke their head into the kitchen to say goodnight to Matt.

She sighed as she walked down the hall to Tim’s bedroom and eased the door open. He was curled up and looked asleep, but he raised his head to look at her as she sat down on the bed after changing into her pajamas. “Hey,” she said, softly. “Did we keep you up?”

“No,” he said, frowning.

“Ok,” she said.

“My parents wanted to talk to you?” he asked.

“Yeah, they did. I told them what they wanted to know, and they feel better about things, I think,” she said.

“Good,” he said, still frowning a bit. He was looking at her a little funny.

“You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, in a tone that said that he wasn’t, but he wanted to be.

“Is this ok? Would you rather I slept on the couch?” she asked.

“No,” he said, firmly. “This is fine,” he said, in that same I want this to be fine tone.

“All right, then,” she said, stretching out next to him. He relaxed slightly and moved over to give her more room. She didn’t say anything, but listened as his breathing slowed and deepened as he fell back asleep. She let herself be lulled to sleep as well.

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Chapter 11

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It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas;
Soon the bells will start,
And the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing
Right within your heart.

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”, Meredith Wilson

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He woke up as the light crept across his bedroom. Calleigh was sleeping deeply next to him, curled up around a cat. He strained to hear if anyone was up and moving about, but just heard the faint sounds of traffic from the main road and his next door neighbor’s wind chimes blowing in the breeze. Smiling to himself, he carefully climbed out of bed and pulled the blanket up over Calleigh’s bare shoulders.

The door to the guest bedroom was still closed and the bathroom was unoccupied. Matt was a lump of blankets on the air mattress in the living room. Toast had apparently decided that the middle of Matt’s back made a lovely place to curl up for a nap and he grinned at the sight. Stretching, he made his way into the kitchen and went about his routine of changing the water in the cat dish and replenishing the food. He slid the door to the back porch open and went back to the kitchen to wash his hands and put on the coffee before pouring himself a glass of juice.

As he drank the juice and watched the coffee pot, he considered what was on hand for breakfast. He and Calleigh hadn’t done a major shopping trip, since he knew that Matt and his Dad planned on going up to the store in Ft. Lauderdale. Plus, he hadn’t known what, if anything, they planned on cooking. But there were enough staples around that he could probably put something together for breakfast. He pulled ingredients down from the cupboards and set about it.

Cooking wasn’t his passion in the same way that it was his father’s or his brother’s, but he still liked to cook. He was always amazed as how comforting it was to make something from nothing, using the skills and the recipes he had stored in his head. When he was small, he’d spent hours standing on a chair in the kitchen of the restaurant, watching his grandfather and his father cook. Their hands always moved so confidently, their eyes skating over the rest of the kitchen, keeping an eye on the timer, the servers, or the next step without ever pausing or needing to read a recipe. He’d been awe-struck when he’d looked down at his hands one day when he was about twenty-one and seen them moving in the same confident manner that his grandfather’s and father’s hands moved. They were doing so now, retracing movements he’d memorized as a child without recourse to any recipe or even conscious thought.

A noise behind him startled him as he straightened from putting the pan in the oven. “Morning, Little Man,” his dad yawned. “Cinnamon rolls?”

“No, coffee cake. I didn’t figure everyone would want to wait for the dough to rise,” he said.

“Probably true. And we’ll be making them for Christmas morning anyway,” his dad said.

Tim smiled and pulled down a coffee mug and filled it for his father. “Here,” he said.

“Aren’t you a good boy,” his dad said, yawning again. “Mm, it’s good.”

“I have no idea what kind it is,” he said, apologetically. “Calleigh gets it.”

“She’s got good taste,” his dad said, sitting down at the table.

“I know,” he said, joining his dad with the remainder of his juice. “Did you sleep well?”

“Sure did,” his dad said. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Well, I figured you and Matt would want to go grocery shopping. I didn’t do much because I didn’t know what you guys had in mind,” he said.

“Ah, yes, the grocery store stand-off,” his dad said. “You’re more than welcome to come along, although I think your mom was going to drag you off to cart her around to some of the sights. She thinks we’re being a tad ridiculous.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah, I did mention to Matt that we have grocery stores here. Right down the street, as a matter of fact. No, you guys go on ahead if you think you’ll be ok on your own. I’ll take Mom around to see stuff.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t take her on one of those glass boat things, because Matt and I want to do that too,” his dad said with a smile.

“No glass boat tour. Got it,” he said, nodding. “I’ll see if those are running the day after Christmas, how’s that?”

“Perfect,” his dad said. “We don’t have to have Matt to the airport until 7pm, so we should have ample time.”

“How long are you and Mom here for, then?” he asked.

“We’ll head back on the 28th. I imagine Janie and Liz will have had their fill of the restaurant by then,” his dad replied. “Not that they don’t have plenty of help. Shelly’s there, after all, and she could probably run the place with her eyes shut and both hands tied behind her back. I don’t know why I bother going in at all, some days.”

“Because the kitchen would fall apart without you,” Tim said.

“Probably true. Oh well, it’s not like we’re ever busy right around Christmas, anyway. All the college kids are gone home and everyone else is eating at home,” he sighed. “They can’t possibly get into too much trouble.”

“And it’s not like they didn’t grow up in the place, same as you, either,” Tim pointed out.

“This is also true,” his father agreed.

“What’s also true?” Matt asked as he ambled into the kitchen. “Mornin’”

“That your Aunt Janie and your Aunt Liz grew up in the restaurant too,” his dad replied.

“Oh, that. Don’t worry, Dad, it’ll be fine,” Matt yawned. “Is that coffee? Can I have some? What’s in the oven?”

“Yes, yes, and coffee cake,” Tim said, getting up to retrieve Matt a cup.

“No, sit, I can get it,” Matt said.

“It’s fine, I had to get up and get my shake anyway,” Tim said, handing his brother a coffee cup.

“Shake?” Matt asked. “You want some?” he asked, indicating the coffee pot.

“No thanks,” he said. “Off limits.”

“Ah,” Matt said. “What in the hell is that?” he asked, watching Tim pour a violently lurid pink concoction into a glass.

“It’s the stupid supplement shake,” Tim sighed. “The strawberry flavor is the least objectionable.”

“That is not a color found in nature,” Matt said, looking nauseated, yet fascinated. “You have to drink that?”

Tim laughed. “Little brother, I lived on these for almost a month.”

Matt shuddered. “That’s just not right.”

Tim shrugged. “It’s not so bad now. I only have to drink three of them a day, now that I can eat again. It was four.”

“Do you have to drink them because of their calorie content, or because of a specific nutrient content, or the protein or what?” Matt asked as he sat down next to their dad with his coffee.

“Calorie content, now. Although the protein certainly doesn’t hurt,” Tim said, taking as large of a gulp as he could. When he said least objectionable, he’d meant it. The thing still tasted lousy.

“Well, heck, if it’s just calories, I can probably come up with something better for you. I guarantee it’ll taste better than that looks,” Matt said. “I’ve got a bunch of smoothie recipes for training.”

“I don’t know why on earth I didn’t think of that months ago,” their dad said.

“I probably didn’t mention the shakes,” Tim said with a shrug. “It didn’t occur to me that there might be something else. And besides, I couldn’t drink anything with a straw for the first six weeks anyway.”

“How many calories are in one of those things, anyway?” Matt asked. “’Cause if you’re not on a low-fat diet, we can make it with real yogurt and stuff.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah, low fat isn’t a word my doctor wants me using right now.”

“Didn’t think so,” Matt said. “You’re really skinny.”

“I don’t know exactly how many calories are in there,” Tim said, taking the last swallow of the shake. “But the box is over there on the counter, behind the plant.”

“I’ll take a look later, before we go to the store,” Matt promised. “Are we doing that today?”

“Yup,” his dad said. “Earlier rather than later.”

“Sounds good,” Matt said. “So, when’s the coffee cake done?”

Tim glanced over at the clock. “Soon.”

“Speaking of grocery shopping, let’s talk about Christmas a moment,” his dad said. “Would there be any objections to a pork roast?”

Tim shook his head. “Nah, Calleigh eats pork.”

“Well, I didn’t think she was a vegetarian after she ordered carne asada last night. I was thinking about you,” his dad pointed out.

“Oh! No, that’d be fine,” Tim said, nodding.

“All right, then. I just wanted to make sure before I went and bought one,” his dad said. “So, I’m thinking pork roast, applesauce, mashed potatoes, some form of vegetable, some form of bread.”

“Can we make the cranberry apple chutney?” Matt asked.

“Certainly. I see no reason why we couldn’t have two sauces for the meat. You’re in charge, Matt. I suggest a call to your Aunt Sophie if you aren’t sure of the ingredients list, given that she is the originator of that recipe,” his dad replied.

“Ok,” Matt said, nodding.

“Just don’t make the vegetable asparagus, and it sounds good,” Tim said.

“Right, then,” his dad said. “Is it just the five of us?”

“Yeah,” Tim nodded. “Alexx wants us to come over for Christmas Eve lunch, though.”

“Fine with us,” his dad replied. “Should we bring something?”

Tim shrugged as he got up to get the coffee cake out of the oven. “I don’t, always. A bottle of wine is probably fine, but if you guys want to come up with something that goes with ham and scalloped potatoes, you go on ahead. I know Cal’s going to make cornbread.”

“Yum.” Matt said. “Is it done?” he asked, leaning back and looking at the coffee cake pan.

“It needs to cool, Matthew,” Tim said, dryly. “Do you want some cereal or something?”

“No, I can wait,” Matt sighed.

Tim rolled his eyes as he brought the butter dish, a serving knife, and a stack of small plates back to the table. “Anyway, Cal’s cornbread isn’t like you’re thinking. It’s Southern cornbread, it’s different. It’s not sweet, and the texture’s different. It’s still good, though.”

“Hmm,” Matt said. “Interesting.”

“I used to know someone who made cornbread like that,” his dad mused. “You wouldn’t remember, Tim, you were a baby. But it was good.”

“Good morning,” Calleigh said, wandering into the kitchen. “Did I hear something about me and cornbread?”

“You’re making some to take to Alexx’s, right?” Tim asked.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “That’s right. What smells so good?” she asked.

“Coffee Cake,” Tim said.

“We’re waiting for it to cool,” Matt sighed.

“I see,” Calleigh said, getting herself a cup of coffee. “It looks delicious.”

“Can you bring it over with you? It ought to be cool enough for Matt, anyway,” Tim said.

“Sure,” she said, setting down her coffee on the table before going back for the pan.

“Yum,” Matt said, dishing himself a piece. Tim rolled his eyes again and dished up pieces for everyone else.

“He’s right, this is fabulous,” Calleigh said, taking another bite of her piece. “How come you don’t make breakfast all the time?” she sighed.

“I made you French toast the other day,” he pointed out.

“That’s right, you did,” she said, nodding. “I apologize.”

“Apology accepted,” he said, taking a bite of his own piece. “What were you planning to do today?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. I do have some little bit of paperwork that has to get done, but that shouldn’t take too long.”

“Well, Dad and Matt are going up to Ft. Lauderdale and I’m going to take Mom out to see stuff,” he said.

“That sounds good. How about you guys go on and do your stuff, and I’ll get the paperwork done and catch you up later?” she said.

“All right,” Tim nodded.

“Matthew,” his father warned, “You had better go knock on the door and find out if your mother is going to want some of the coffee cake before you take a second piece.”

“Oh, right,” Matt said, dropping the serving knife. “Okay.” He got up and ambled off towards the guest bedroom.

His father sighed. “I swear to God, it’s a good thing we own a restaurant or he’d have eaten us out already. How I wound up with one kid who tried to live on air and one who eats anything that’s not nailed down, I’ll never know.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Tim protested mildly.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” his dad replied, raising his eyebrows. “I seem to recall several phone calls from a school nurse because you’d about passed out from forgetting to eat.”

“I was busy,” he muttered defensively.

“Yes, I know,” his father sighed. “You don’t do that anymore, do you?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Tim admitted.

“Good. Keep that mindset,” his father said.

“Good morning,” his mom said, coming into the room. “I’m informed that there’s coffee cake and if I want to save a piece from the ravages of my son’s appetite, I should probably get up and have some now.”

“I didn’t say that!” Matt protested.

“Ah, but that’s what you meant, isn’t it?” she said, smiling at him.

“Well, kind of, I guess,” Matt admitted as he flopped back into his chair.

His mother chuckled as she dished herself up a piece. “Be useful and get me a cup of coffee, please, Matthew.”

“Yes’m,” Matt replied, getting up to do so.

“So, I imagine there are already plans?” his mom asked, looking at the rest of them.

“Matt and I are going grocery shopping,” his dad said. “Tim said he’d take you to see some of the things you wanted to see.”

“Oh, lovely. Are you going to come with us, Calleigh, or did the boys talk you into the road trip?” his mom asked.

“I actually have a bit of paperwork to take care of, but then I’ll catch up with y’all,” Calleigh agreed.

“Good. I doubt Tim has any idea about shopping outside of books,” she said.

“You want to go shopping?” Tim asked incredulously. “It’s December 23rd!”

“Oh, we’ll park you somewhere safe first, sweetie,” his mom replied. “I have no intention of dragging you around shopping two days before Christmas, Tim. Which would be why I asked if Calleigh was coming with.”

Calleigh laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll go.”

“You’re both insane. Actually, you’re all insane,” Tim said, shaking his head. He could not imagine what would induce someone to step into a place of retail commerce two days before Christmas. Museums and such would be bad enough.

“Yes, well, this shouldn’t be news, dear,” his mom replied. “Ok, Matt, have at the cake.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, scooping up the last piece. “Oh…unless anyone else wanted it,” he asked, belatedly.

“No, Matt, it’s all yours,” Tim smiled, after glancing around the table.

“Great,” Matt replied.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” his dad said. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“No problem,” Tim said.

“Yeah, I’m going to get started on stuff,” Calleigh said. “The sooner I start the sooner I finish.

“Sounds good,” Tim said, picking up the now empty pan and several dishes and taking them to the kitchen. He started cleaning things up as he listened to his mom and Matt discussing Christmas dinner. It was nice to have a houseful of people going about their business in the morning. He was starting to actually get excited about Christmas, something that hadn’t happened in a long, long time.

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Chapter 12

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Just raise your head up and stand up, no fear in your eyes.
Tell me love and hope never die.
So raise your head up and stand up, no reason to cry.
'Cause your heart and soul will survive.

“Love and Hope”, Ozomatli

---

Calleigh stepped back and took a good look at her handiwork. When she’d realized the other day that there were no Christmas decorations at Tim’s house whatsoever, she’d ducked out and retrieved her little Christmas tree and a box of ornaments from her apartment without telling anyone. The lack of decorations didn’t seem to be bothering any of the Speedles, but she couldn’t imagine having Christmas morning without even a token tree.

Tim’s family had left for Midnight Mass around 10:30, since no one was sure how well attended the service would be and they wanted to be sure of getting a seat. Tim had gone to bed shortly thereafter, and Calleigh had slipped out to her car and brought in the tree. She’d spent the last hour putting it together and decorating it. Now she flipped the switch and turned out the lamp. The colored lights twinkled gently in the darkened living room and the ornaments shone. “Perfect,” she said to herself, with a contented sigh. She turned the lights back on in order to clean up the boxes. An idea struck her, and she went into the breezeway where she knew Tim had stashed his Christmas presents. She got the box down from the shelf, and brought it into the living room to place the presents under the tree. She got her own box of presents from the coat closet and added them to the pile. “Now it feels like Christmas,” she said, turning off the lamp again. She thought the lights would be a nice greeting for Tim’s family when they returned from church, so she left them on. Now she just had to hope the cats wouldn’t get too curious about the tree. She’d put it on top of the speakers on a shelf, and she’d never actually seen any of the cats up there, so she hoped it would be safe enough. They hadn’t seemed terribly interested in it while she’d been putting it up, anyway.

She yawned and stretched, ready for bed. Tim was asleep when she crawled into bed next to him and she closed her eyes, ready for sleep. She’d just about drifted off when she heard a rustling next to her and felt him touch her shoulder.

“Calleigh? Are you asleep?” Tim whispered.

“Not entirely,” she said, sleepily. “You been dreamin’?” He hadn’t had a nightmare that she knew about in days, but it was bound to happen.

“No,” he said. “No, I just…there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Right now?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. She rolled over and looked at him. He was sitting against the headboard with his knees drawn up. He hadn’t turned on the light, so she couldn’t see his face clearly, but there was obviously something bothering him.

“Ok,” she sighed, and sat up. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…you’re going to think this is crazy, and it may be, a little, but I swear to you, it’s real. Well, as real as anything is, and I don’t know if I know what that means anymore, exactly, but I think I’m supposed to tell you this. The more I think about it, the more I think I am supposed to tell you,” he said.

“Whoa, wait a second, Tim,” she said, blinking at him. “Slow down. What are you saying?”

“You can’t tell me I’m crazy,” he said.

“Okay,” she said, slowly.

“I mean, I didn’t tell Andy about this, exactly, but he says I’m not crazy, so I’m really not, you know?” he said in a rush. “I just…sometimes things seem real to me that might not to someone else.”

“Does Andy know about that?” she asked, becoming somewhat concerned.

“Yeah. He thinks it’s just how my head decided to process things. I don’t know if that’s it, or if it’s actually real. I don’t think I like it, though,” he admitted.

“I’m not sure I like it too much, either,” Calleigh said. “But go on. I won’t tell you you’re crazy.”

“Ok, it’s like this,” he said, taking a deep breath. “When I was sick, or maybe when I was in surgery, I don’t remember, or I maybe never knew, but anyway, when I wasn’t…myself, I saw Eric.”

Calleigh raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was sitting there, and Eric was sitting there and he was talking to me,” Tim said. She watched him start tracing circles on his knee with his finger as he talked. “I know it sounds strange and all, but I swear this really happened. Eric said I might not remember it all, and I don’t think I do, but he said it was real, and well, he seemed like he’d know. And I don’t think this is something my head would just make up.”

“Okay,” she said, slowly. “What did he say to you?”

“He said…he said that it was all going to be ok. That he understood now, you know, what happened to me, and knew why, I don’t know, why I’m how I am. We’d talked about that, before things happened, you see. And I couldn’t tell him, anymore than I could tell you, yet. But he said, that unless I trusted you and H and Alexx, I wasn’t going to make it. That it was going to be something that could…really hurt me. And that it was time to stop fighting and do what you all had been saying, and just tell the story. You know, what happened with Jason and all that,” he said. She could tell he was frowning, even though she couldn’t quite see his face.

“Right,” she said, softly.

“But then…then he said that everything was all right. That it happened the way it did because it was supposed to. And that he’d…he’d had his hope of heaven and now it was true for him. And that he wasn’t lost out there, and I wouldn’t be, either. That we’re none of us lost in the end. And that’s the part I think I’m supposed to tell you. That he’s ok, and it’s all going to be ok. He’s not lost, and we won’t be either, when we get there,” Tim said, slowly, raising his head to look at her. The clouds had shifted, letting some moonlight into the room. She could just barely make out his expression and it was pleading with her to believe him.

His words and his expression slammed into her like a weight. She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but it caught on a sob. Why did he have to…why did Eric… She couldn’t even make coherent thoughts anymore. The next thing she knew, she was crying, and Tim was holding her hand. “Shh, it’s ok,” he whispered.

The tears came anyway, but this time they didn’t leave her feeling raw. For the first time since September, she actually felt better as she cried. “I’m…I’m ok,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I just didn’t…I didn’t expect that.”

“I’m sorry, maybe…” he said.

“No, don’t be. You’re right, I think you were supposed to tell me that,” she said, wiping at her face.

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” he whispered.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“It was real, then,” he whispered again, and she could see his eyes widen in the dim light.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I do know that you were…somewhere else, at first. It might be real. I think,” she said, slowly. “I think that if you think it was real, then it was.”

His hands tightened around hers. “I don’t know what real is, exactly.”

“That’s ok,” she said. “I don’t think anyone does, when you think about it.”

“Ok,” he said, softly.

“It does explain a lot,” she said, shifting around to sit next to him against the headboard.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“We kept just waiting for you to react to Eric’s death. And you didn’t, you just wouldn’t. It was a bit scary, and we were afraid you’d just buried it so far down that it couldn’t surface. And we knew that wasn’t good for you. But there wasn’t really anything we could do about it- you were just too fragile. But you’d already reacted to it, and we just didn’t know it, did we?” she asked.

“I think so, yes,” he said. “It never…it hurt so much and then it didn’t, hardly at all. Not that, anyway. The rest of it still did, but Eric being gone didn’t hurt as much as the rest of it,” he explained.

“At first, when you were so sick, you would just wake up and burst into tears,” Calleigh said. “It was heartbreaking. You were so sick and so disoriented. And then when you finally came back to us, you were just so blank.”

He nodded. “That’s right. I think…yes,” he said.

“I have to say, that’s a bit of a relief,” she said. “I just…you buried Jason so well, I just didn’t want you to do the same with Eric.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”

“Good,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry I put you though all this,” he said.

“I’m not sorry I was here for you,” she said. “And I’m glad you told me. It…might be the best Christmas gift, to know somehow that Eric’s ok. Somehow, anyway. Even if it’s not quite real.”

“Good,” he said. “I thought it might help.”

“It did,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It really does.”

“That’s good,” he said, yawning. “He would want that, I think.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “He would want it to help. He’d want you to get better and he’d want everything to be good for us.”

“I know,” Tim said. “I’m trying.”

“You are. You are trying so very hard,” she said, softly. “And you’re going to make it. You told us the secret, now. You trusted us.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. She could tell he was getting drowsy again.

“Come on, now,” she said. “Put your head back down,” she said, sliding down to rest her head on her pillow. He followed suit. “Better close your eyes and go to sleep. Santa can’t come if you’re awake,” she teased, gently.

“Did your parents tell you that too?” he asked, sleepily.

“Oh, yes. Every year. Time to go to bed if you want Santa to come,” she giggled. “Even after we had pretty well figured out that Santa wasn’t real.”

“But maybe he is,” Tim replied.

She giggled again. “Maybe he is at that,” she agreed. “In that case, we’d really better go to sleep.”

“Mmm,” he said, starting to drift off. “Night, then.”

“Good night, Tim. Sweet dreams,” she said, softly.

“You too,” he said. She heard his breathing even out and closed her own eyes to anticipate the morning.

---

Chapter 13

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A thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn

“O Holy Night”, traditional carol

---

A loud banging startled him awake, sitting upright in shock. “Tim, Calleigh, come on!” Matt’s voice called. “It’s Christmas! Come on already!”

Tim slumped over his knees. “Damnit, Matthew,” he sighed.

“I see your family does the crack of dawn insanity,” Calleigh said drowsily as she raised her head to look at the clock.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’d forgotten.”

“Are you up?” Matt yelled from the other side of the door.

“Yes, Matthew. We’re up,” Tim called back.

“Good. Mom says we can’t do anything without you,” Matt replied.

Tim groaned as he got up and stumbled towards the door. “What are you, six?” he asked Matt as he opened the door.

“Yup!” Matt said, bouncing on his heels.

Tim just stared at him for a long moment in foggy disbelief. Then he did the only thing you could possibly do with an annoying younger brother: he reached out and pulled Matt into a headlock and dragged him down the hall. “Hey!” Matt said. “No fair!”

“It’s plenty fair,” Tim said, wrestling his brother into the living room.

“No, it’s not, I can’t hit you back!” Matt protested.

“So? You’re bigger than I am, anyway” Tim said. It was true. Matt definitely outweighed Tim, even though he was still probably an inch or two shorter. Not for long, Tim thought to himself. His “little” brother was definitely going to wind up being the bigger of the two. “And you can hit back. Just don’t punch me in the stomach or the face.”

“Boys,” his father said, sternly. “No one is hitting anyone on Christmas Day. Tim, let him go. Matt, apologize for being obnoxious.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, simultaneously. Tim let Matt go and slumped down on the couch between his parents.

“Sorry, Tim,” Matt said as he scooted into the kitchen.

“S’ok,” Tim shrugged. He glanced around. “Hey, where’d the tree come from?” he asked, confused.

“I put it up,” Calleigh said, as she entered the living room.

“Oh,” Tim said, blinking. “All right, then.”

“Here,” his mom said, handing him a glass of juice. “Calleigh, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, please,” Calleigh said, accepting a mug from his mom. “Thank you.”

“We tried to convince Matt that Christmas could wait until a more reasonable hour, but he saw no reason to break with tradition just because we don’t have to go to Mass and dinner,” his dad sighed.

“You’d think that he’d be the one willing to sleep,” Tim mumbled into his juice.

“Too many early morning swim practices,” his mom sighed.

Matt reappeared with a pan of cinnamon rolls, which he plunked down on the table. “Ok, everyone’s up, there’s coffee, there’s food, so we’re set, right?”

“Yes, Matt. You can hand out the presents, now,” his dad said.

Tim was amazed at how excited Matt was. He couldn’t remember ever being that excited over Christmas. But then, Matt seemed excited over just about everything, which used up considerably more energy than Tim thought he’d ever had. He picked up a cinnamon roll and took a bite as Matt handed everyone a small stack of gifts.

“So how do y’all do this,” Calleigh asked, looking slightly stunned to have a pile of her own. “One at a time, or everyone at once?”

“Oh, it’s a free-for-all,” his dad said. “No one’s ever had enough patience to go one at a time in my family. There’s just too many of us.” His dad shook a box speculatively. “Full steam ahead whenever you’re ready.”

Matt and his mom were already unwrapping gifts. “Wow, thanks, Tim,” Matt said.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“What’d you get him?” his mom asked, looking up from her own pile.

“A couple DVDs. Monty Python and Ferris Bueller. I figured every college kid needed ‘em,” he replied.

“Good idea,” his mom agreed. She finished unwrapping a sweater. “Oh, Danny, thank you,” she said.

“You’re most welcome, love,” his dad said.

Calleigh laughed suddenly. “Look what your brother gave me, Tim,” she said, gleefully. “A scarf!”

Tim laughed. “Now you have two.” Calleigh’s entrancement with winter clothing and the snow had been the only detail of their trip to North Carolina he’d shared with his parents.

“I do!” she said. “Thank you!”

“Tim, those presents are for opening, not just looking at,” his dad said, amusedly.

“I know. I’m getting there,” he said vaguely, watching Matt open a package from their parents. It was more fun watching everyone else open their gifts than opening his own. Besides, he was still eating the cinnamon roll, and he didn’t want to get his gifts sticky. He’d really rather just sit back and watch everyone else.

The Christmas tree lights twinkled above them and there were cats batting at discarded wrapping paper and ribbons. The house smelled like coffee and cinnamon and was snug and cozy. He was comfortably ensconced between his parents on the couch, watching everyone’s faces light up with joy. This isn’t such a bad thing, he thought. Not such a bad thing at all. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might even be a little bit happy, sitting there in the middle of Christmas morning chaos, surrounded by hope and joy. It really was a wonderful morning, full of the promise of things to come.

End