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“It was a zoo back there, Michael,” She sighed. “I wasn’t going to wait for a cabbie in the ice storm. I’d rather be moving.” She stepped up and out of the metro station and almost slipped on the icy ground. She lashed out, grasping the metal railing for balance and clung to the handle of her suitcase so it wouldn’t go toppling back down the stairs.
“Well we’re at the apartment, do you want us to come meet you? Or send a car? It’s a bloody blizzard out there.”
“I’ll be fine--” she guessed, squinting through the snow to see the street signs. She was actually rather far from his apartment but that line of the metro was down for maintenance and so she’d had to come up to the street to get her bearings. Her phone was sparsely functioning down below and she’d needed to get to ground level to figure out which lines she needed to adjust to now that her original plan was foiled. It would be fine. She was going to be fine.
“I don’t know, Pegs. New York is no joke especially in a storm. Here, Lily says she knows the system and can guide you. Where are you right now?”
Peggy read off the street signs and she could hear Lily trying to explain the directions before Michael gave up trying to be the middleman and handed over the phone to her.
“Hey Pegs,” Lily was grinning, she could tell. “Okay, so thankfully on the night schedule Broadway Junction still has options. Okay, go back down and instead of taking the J line to Broad Street you’re going to take the L line towards 14th. But get off Union Square and switch to the 4-6. It's the green line, and ride towards New Lots but you’re going to get off at Canal Street, which is not many stops later and then bam! You’re actually right there!”
Peggy felt her head spin, “okay, can you text that to me?”
“Of course! Can’t wait to see you!”
After another minute and a goodbye to Michael, she hung up and turned, ready to walk back down to the metro. But she paused. The text hadn’t come through yet and she didn’t want to have to walk back up metro stairs until it was her stop. A gust of freezing wind made her shiver wildly and a warm glow across the street caught her eye.
A cup of hot coffee and a pastry would literally change her life right now. She would grab a quick bite, screenshot the directions, and then be on her way.
The road was more like an ice skating rink as she attempted to cross it. She and her suitcase almost went toppling, but she managed to make it across, grabbing the streetlight for balance, and hauling herself onto the sidewalk.
The doorbell tinkled and warmth spilled out as she stepped inside, making her almost ache with how lovely it felt.
“Please for the love of all things do not bring that sopping wet suitcase in here!” Snapped the barista behind the counter.
She looked down. The wheels were caked in muddy snow and she grimaced. It would be fine.
So she set it right outside the door and squeezed back inside. The place was tiny. Like a 8x10 foot box. But it was warm, smelled delicious, and was clean. So it might as well have been heaven.
Rubbing her fingers to get warmth back into them, she stared at the glass case and selected a few pastries to eat along her route. “And a hot coffee,” she added, “plenty of cream and sugar please. The largest size you have.”
The woman nodded and she tapped her phone to pay. While she waited, she stood, nibbling on a cheese danish and reading the papers on the community board. Movement in her peripheral vision made her glance out the door to see someone grabbing her suitcase.
“Hey!” Panic flooded through her. “Stop!”
She dashed out the door, startling the thief and causing them to break into a run. “HEY!” she called again, “THIEF!” She rushed after them, trying to catch their jacket but they leaped over a patch on the ground and took off down the block. “STOP!” She cried, running out into the street.
Bright lights and a resounding horn made her shriek, and try to pull back. But the ground was too slippery and there was no stopping for her or the vehicle.
Pain and cold were all she knew as the snow drifted down onto her face, making everything go hazy and dark.
____________________________
“Come on,” a voice coaxed, “come on.”
Pressure on her chest and face made her groan and an ache so fierce made her gasp in a gulp of freezing air.
“There you are--” a relieved voice said, “come on, take another breath.”
A soft pressure on her neck and then another sigh of relief, “We got a pulse!”
She heard a siren and she groaned again, managing to peel back her eyelids.
A man’s face came into view. Blue worried eyes and an expression of concern were their prominent features, but what caught her attention most was the markings of her lipstick on his lips.
She frowned. Her brain, practically frozen to the asphalt, couldn’t comprehend this. “Who the hell are you and did you just...” she started, throat hoarse, “kiss me?”
The man let out a humored huff, and shook his head, “well, here in America we call it CPR.”
She swallowed, her mouth tasting dry and metallic. “CPR?” she responded groggily, “for what?”
“You’ve been in an accident,” he said calmly.
“A what?” Her chest felt like white hot pokers were stabbing it and she groaned, trying to shift away from the pain.
“Don’t move,” he said calmly, holding her neck, and side, “we don’t know what damage was caused.”
She couldn’t think. No words came to her, just pain.
“You need to let go of your phone,” the man said calmly, “it’s cutting into your hand, can you relax those muscles for me please?”
She rolled her head sideways to see the death grip she had on her phone. The screen was cracked and chunks of it were missing. “What happened?” She asked, then the ache returned and she let out another agonized groan. It felt like she got hit by a truck.
“You did,” the man responded to the thought she’d thought had been internal. “The ambulance is here. Can you tell me your name?”
She turned back to the man, looking at her expectantly.
“Um…” She searched for it. Her name. She knew this. Everyone knew their own name. “Um…”
His expression shifted and she felt him gently grasp her head and start probing with his fingers. He hit a soft spot and she sucked in a sharp breath, tears immediately being drawn from her eyes. “Gah--” she gasped.
He gently rested her head back down, but one of his blocking her skull from touching the ground, and looked around, “okay, it’s okay.” He was gone then. Two other people appearing, a man and woman, grasped and prodded her gently until they determined her spine was alright and lifted her up onto a gurney.
The blue eyed man was there, watching carefully.
“We’ll take her in,” the more recent man said.
“Sounds good, I’m on shift so I’ll meet you there.”
Some sort of agreement was made as she was loaded onto the ambulance and the doors closed. The last thing she saw was the man watching her with concern.
__________________________
After a lengthy appointment in which she was inspected, x-rayed, and scanned. It was confirmed that she had bruised and cracked ribs from the CPR, a small fracture in her right arm, a massive concussion, cuts and bruising on her hand from gripping her phone, and a bruise and laceration on the back of her head.
“Odds were stacked against you,” the kindly doctor said, “you were lucky there was someone there who knew how to do CPR properly, especially with the conditions in which you were hit. I’m assuming the memory loss is from the concussion,” his face got sympathetic, “but it could have been from lack of oxygen between when your heart stopped and it was restarted. I don’t have any answers for you about its likelihood of returning. After some rest and allowing all the swelling to go down, we will do another more thorough scan of your heart and head. Okay? You just rest now.”
Her eyelids were heavy and brain foggy from the meds, so she couldn’t formulate any words before she drifted off into sleep again.
______________________
When she woke the next time, she felt much clearer of mind, which was good, but it also meant she was much more present minded to feel the pain, which was not so good.
She groaned and tried to shift into a more comfortable position.
Her heart rate spiked and a beeping went off. She sagged back onto the bed and tried to take a deep breath, Her ribs positively burned.
The door to her room opened and the blue eyed man stepped in. He was wearing dark blue scrubs with little snow and light covered Christmas trees lining the hems.
“You’re awake,” he smiled, “how do you feel?” He huffed, “wrong question, you probably feel pretty crappy. Do you need to up the dose on your meds? You are authorized for a bit more.”
She nodded and he tapped some button on a machine next to her. A minute or so passed and the pain did ease some.
“Where am I?” She asked, coughing on her dry airways.
He gave her a glass of water and stood by her bed. “You’re at the University Hospital in Brooklyn.”
Her eyes widened, “Brooklyn? As in New York?”
He wrinkled his nose, “yes… New York. I’m assuming you don’t remember why you are here?”
“I--” her blood pounded painfully in her brain as she wracked it, trying to think, “I was going somewhere.”
“What about your name?” He asked kindly, “any progress on that front?”
She grimaced, “the only name I can think of is Michael. But it doesn't feel like my name…”
He nodded, “could be a boyfriend, or brother, or friend. Important names tend to linger in our mind.”
She frowned, “like my own?”
He winced, “right. Um. How about birthday?”
“April 9…” she said easily, then smiled, “it’s April 9th.”
“That’s great,” he smiled, “I’m one of your nurses for this shift--” he pointed to a board where she saw two names written in dry eraser: Wanda M. & Steve R. “Is there anything you need right now? A meal will be brought to you around breakfast time…” he tilted his head, “unless you’re starving right now?”
“I’m alright…” Then she felt a draft, “can I get my jacket--” her mind pinched and she held a hand to her temple to press against the ache, “my clothes. Where are my clothes?”
He pointed to a bag on a chair. “The clothes you were wearing are in there, probably not wearable anymore unless you’re good at getting blood stains out of them, and sewing up the cuts,” he said apologetically. “But there was no identification or wallet on your person. Do you know why?”
She pushed her fists into her eyes and tried to ignore the pounding, “I-- don’t know so. I remember feeling worried.” She pointed to the bag of clothes, “like I lost something. Can I?”
He brought it over to her and she rummaged through it. The phone was useless. Wouldn’t even turn on. Her pockets were empty except for one lonely metro pass. Exhaustion and sadness were her fiercest emotions as her entire life was relegated into one bag.
“Hey,” she looked up to see the nurse at her bedside, “It’s all going to be alright. We’re going to figure this out. I bet that you’ll remember your name in no time and we can start figuring out where your family is. Okay? Don't stress about it. That will make it worse.”
“How am I supposed to not stress that I can’t--” her throat tightened in despair, “I don’t even know who I am!”
The nurse reached out, and rested a comforting hand on top of hers, “don’t you worry. It’s almost Christmas--” he smiled like that was a solution to everything, “you just need to give your body and brain a rest and then it will do its job. I’ve seen it before, promise. It will be alright.”
The memory of his eyes made her connect the dots from her accident. “You were the man who gave me CPR.”
He nodded, “I was. I’m sorry about the bruises and cracked ribs, but--”
The ache in her ribs was fierce, but the doctor had commended him for doing it properly, “must happen a lot in CPR?”
He agreed, “yeah, unfortunately. Have to be able to actually depress the heart muscle. Takes a lot of pressure.”
She eyed his tall and muscular stature. “Well,” she started quietly, “thank you. I suppose without the cracked ribs I wouldn’t be here at all.” She frowned, “how were you there?”
He huffed, “I was walking to my shift and heard someone yelling then a car honking. Next thing I knew people were screaming and I came across you in the snow.”
“I’m lucky you did,” she said, “thank you.”
“Thank me when you’re getting out of here,” he smiled, “which I promise will be soon.”
She frowned, “how can you be so sure?”
He pointed to the little date on the white board. December 21st, it read. “It’s almost Christmas. All the best miracles happen around Christmas.” He checked her monitors, and then looked at her, “can I get you anything right now?”
She shook her head, her pounding mind still trying to process his bizarre statement.
“Alright, we will be by to check on you soon.”
He stepped out the door and she was left in the quiet room where the only sound was the soft beep of her own heart on the monitor.
________________________
A woman walked in a few hours later, rousing her from a hazy daze and checking her monitors and meds. “How are you feeling? The woman asked in a lightly accented voice.
“I’m okay,” she admitted, “just the pain of the accident obviously. But nothing worse.”
“And your headache?”
“Still there, but not as fierce.”
“That’s good,” the woman set a cup of water and pitcher on the little table, “the IV is good, but the more you intake orally the better. Breakfast will be coming soon.”
She nodded and then paused, “I actually do feel hungry.”
The woman smiled, “that’s a good sign. Food should be here in less than an hour.”
______________________
She woke to the sound of a tray being set on her table. She sat up and the blonde nurse, Steve, was back. "Sorry,” he said quietly, “didn’t mean to wake you.”
She waved him off, “No matter. I’m rather starved anyways.”
“That’s good,” he said just like his counterpart.
“You’ve both said that,” She stated, “Why is hunger a good thing?”
“Well,” he started, “the body prioritizes needs.” He gestured to her, “if you’re in so much pain or agony, hunger and thirst don’t register very strongly or even at all. If you’re injured the body is focused on that. So you being present of mind enough to feel pain, but still registering hunger means your body is healing and noticing regular needs.” Then without blinking an eye, he switched, “speaking of which, do you need to use the restroom? With your concussion and ribs you’re listed as a potential fall risk, and might suffer from dexterity restriction.”
She’d been steadily drinking water and did in fact have to go. But something about a man helping her seemed mortifying. She didn’t even know her own name but she somehow knew how to be embarrassed.
“I can request Wanda to be here when she’s finished with another patient if you’d prefer,” he offered easily, no perceptible change in his expression or tone.
“Yes,” She said quickly, “thank you.”
He nodded and pointed to her food, “it doesn't get better cold.” Then he smiled and left and she tucked in.
_____________________
Turned out, using the restroom with anyone’s help was mortifying.
But now she knew it couldn’t be helped. Standing made her weak and dizzy and her ribs disallowed her from bending over to remove the hospital pants or wipe.
“It’s like I’m an infant again,” She sighed as Wanda helped her back into bed.
“It’s nothing of the sort. You’re injured, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“He must get that a lot,” She wondered quietly, “women asking for women?”
Wanda huffed and nodded, “yeah. But the reasons make sense though.”
“Do more men request him?” She had no idea why she was asking.
Wanda raised a brow at her wryly, “you would think. But no.” She adjusted the blankets back over her lap. “While you are a human, and I see you as such. You’re also just a body. One of thousands upon thousands I’ll see and treat and help and bathe this year. So while each patient feels embarrassed, we nurses are not paying attention or caring what you look like. You’re a patient. We are here to help you, not ogle you or judge you.”
She winced, “I didn’t mean--”
The nurse waved her off, “no, sorry, I wasn’t trying to make a point, just stating the facts. Comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
_________________________
The hours ticked by and she slept and ate and slept again. Another two nurses worked shifts and then when she woke, Wanda M. & Steve R. had returned on her board and the date read December 22nd. The clock read 2:45 am and she felt wide awake.
She stared at her cracked phone, hoping it would give her answers, but it was as useless as her brain felt.
“You’re awake--” she looked up to see Steve entering her room, speaking softly, “are you alright?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “but laying in bed all day has my sleep schedule off.”
“I see, not the pain?” As he got closer she saw his scrubs were green today with Christmas light strands decorating them.
“No. It’s there but… the meds are helping. It’s not bad enough to wake me.”
“That’s good.” He looked ready to leave her be, but the statement he’d made yesterday had been rattling around in her empty brain the past day and now it popped out. “What did you mean?” She asked, “about Christmas?”
He stopped, “hmm?”
“You said all the best miracles happen around Christmas… I don’t… I don’t understand what you mean.”
His brows furrowed and he stepped back closer, “it’s Christmas.”
“Yes, I understand that. But what makes it special?”
His eyes bugged a bit and then he shook his head, “it's special because it’s Christmas!”
“And what’s so special about Christmas?”
He seemed perplexed by her question, “do you… remember what Christmas is?”
She rolled her eyes, “of course I know what Christmas is. But it’s a fun time for family and to exchange presents. That’s it.”
His mouth dropped open and he seemed stunned, “that’s it? That’s IT?” He huffed, “no. Christmas is much more than that.”
She crossed her arms defensively and then immediately regretted the decision, her ribs protesting. “Much more how?”
“What do you mean how?” He asked, clearly in shock, “it’s Christmas.”
For some reason the response drew a laugh, which then caused a wince of pain.
“Careful,” he cautioned.
“You keep saying it’s Christmas as if that’s an answer in and of itself. But it’s not.”
Instead of insisting that it is, which is what she expected, he looked at her thoughtfully and then held up a finger, “hold on. I have to go do a round and then I will be back and I will explain and change your mind about Christmas.”
Before she could agree, he was gone and she leaned back on her bed, unusually excited for the stranger to come back.
____________________
It was just past 4am when he peeked his head back into the room. “You still awake?”
“I think I dozed, but I’m just not very tired.”
He stepped in, gesturing to the pink plastic chair in her room, “may I?”
“Of course.”
He spun it, sitting in the chair backwards and resting his forearms on the backrest. “So,” he said, looking at her seriously, “Christmas is… the time of transformation. It’s ‘the season of perpetual hope’,” he said with a grin like he’d told an inside joke. “It’s a feeling and an experience and a state of mind all in one.” She looked at him skeptically but he shook his head, “do you like Christmas music?” She wrinkled her nose and he sighed, “let me guess, too repetitive?”
“It is.”
“No,” he corrected, “it’s because you’re expecting something new or you’re expecting to feel like you did when you were a kid. But Christmas music is meant to establish a state of mind. It is nostalgia, but it’s also… the opportunity to grow. You make new memories year after year to the same songs. The song's meaning can change over time with whatever that particular Christmas season brings!”
She raised an eyebrow, “have you gone insane?”
He sighed, “okay, fine. What about Christmas movies.”
“I do enjoy those,” she relented, “depending on the one.”
“Okay,” he leaned over, gesturing with his hands, “in every truly good Christmas movie--” his face was growing wistful. He seemed to be in his own thoughts as he spoke and she watched a sense of wonder come over him, “there’s a moment. Thee moment. It’s when whatever was happening or whoever the main character is, experiences the main point of Christmas. The magic of Christmas. The transformative power of Christmas.”
“I’m not following.”
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, “okay… take an easy one. The Grinch.”
“The green monster cartoon thing?”
“Yes, or the Jim Carrey version. He’s a mess right? But then the kindness of Cindy Lou Who changes him. Her refusal to live by Who convention and fear the Grinch, causes a domino effect and then near the end, when she’s in danger, he saves her! And then accepts Christmas and his heart grows three sizes.”
“An anatomical impossibility,” she teased.
He groaned but then shook his head in amusement, “but you see?”
“Okay, he experienced a physical change but--”
“But it’s not always physical,” he cut in, “have you seen Christmas with the Kranks?”
“The who?”
“It’s mostly a ridiculous movie,” he said, “but near the end, when the main character hasn’t gotten what he wanted--” his eyes grow soft, “my ma would always point it out. ‘There it is’, she’d say. ‘He’s changing’. It was a scene where he was standing in the middle of the street, and he’s watching his family and friends through the window. And he just stands there in the softly falling snow and the music is soft and he changes. He decides to do something selfless. The moment, the realization-- the way the neighborhood helped him save their party-- Christmas changed him.”
“I’ve never seen it,” she said, “but I guess I understand what you’re trying to say.”
“Okay…” he said, looking pensive, “what’s a Christmas movie you remember well?”
“Um…” her mind was empty of most of the important things, but she could picture some scenes, “The Santa Clause?”
He smiled, “okay, yes. Another Tim Allen one. When he becomes Santa Claus, he rails against it, but then the way that the kids, elves, and his son worm his way into his heart, ends up changing how he sees Christmas. And--” he says emphatically, “it actually ends up changing his ex wife and new husband’s new lives for the better as well. They’d given up on the magic and hope of Christmas, but he brought it back. It changed their family.”
“But that’s the movie. Not a moment.”
“The moment--” he looked at her wryly as if he was amused she was challenging him, “is when Tim Allen brings his son back to his house. And sits down to convince Charlie that he has to go work because doesn’t want to let the kids of the world down. And his son says “so I can’t be selfish either”. They have this heart to heart and it convinces the adults that he’s not lying. He is Santa Claus. The ex-wife even burns the custody papers. They become a family again.”
“And every Christmas movie has a moment like this?”
He nodded, “that I’ve seen. And the ones that don’t are usually just not as memorable.”
“So you’re saying because movies have a sentimental moment, that I’ll get my memory back?” Her tone wasn’t sharp but it was disbelieving.
They looked at each other for a long moment before he took a deep breath and raised his shoulders in a slow shrug. “I don’t know what will happen,” he said calmly, “but I always have hope for the best. And Christmas is filled with hope. So what better time to believe?” He stood and she watched him walk to the door before gaining the courage.
“Maybe--” she called, “when you’ve finished another round… You’d give me more examples? Just so that way I… I could use a dash of hope.”
His smile was so soft and endearing it made her heart skip a beat. “Of course.”
_______________________
She was eating breakfast when he returned, “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” She answered honestly, “I remembered something.”
He raised his eyebrows, coming closer and leaning a hip against the plastic handrail of her bed, “and that is?”
“That I have a brother.”
“That's good, could his name be Michael?”
“I think it is. I don’t have confirmation or anything but the two pieces fit well in my mind, like a puzzle.”
“Excellent. See?” He was genuinely happy for her, “you’ll be out of here in no time.”
She looked around. The textured blue walls, tiled floors and generic art print weren’t the most inviting. But the nurses and staff had been lovely and the bed wasn’t actually all that bad.
“I appreciate your optimism,” she responded honestly. “I need some right now.” Before he could say anything, she asked another question, “why does my brain remember some things but not others? Why could I tie my shoes, remember the Grinch and know who the president is, but not my name? Not my family? The things that are truly important?”
His eyes saddened as he stepped closer, sinking into the same pink plastic chair, “You’re asking the wrong person. The brain is a strange beast. The simple and finer motor functions reside in a separate place. So that’s why you can eat and write and tie your shoes. But the information? That I can’t answer. Even a neurologist would have a hard time. The way neurons fire and the connections a brain makes or doesn’t make is still so difficult to pinpoint. But the brain wants to get better. It knows when it’s lacking and tries to make up for it. So give it a chance. It’s working on it.” He punctuated his last word with a smile and she found herself smiling back.
“You said you had more?” She pressed, “more movie moments?”
“You’re making fun of me,” he guessed, “aren’t you?” He seemed amused.
“I’m not,” she assured, “I actually find your optimism for the season comforting.”
“Do you want to hear another one?”
“If you would…?”
“How about a classic, It’s a Wonderful Life?”
“I’m not sure I’ve seen that one actually,” she mused, “but I know the basic premise. He wishes he wasn’t around?”
“It’s so much more than that,” he said, getting a serious expression. “The whole movie, while having a lighthearted tone, is a story about how much the main character, George Bailey, has always given up for his community. He wanted to go and travel the world and build cities and live this grand exciting life, but each time he chose someone else over himself. Even when he didn’t want to. And in the end, when things are at their bleakest… well he wishes he’d never been born. But then the angel sent to help him shows what a world like that would be. And--” his eyes are glazed again, he’s picturing it, and his expression riveted her. The emotion in his voice is palpable, “it’s awful. His brother died as a child, his employer was imprisoned for an accident, his family torn apart and the town under the hand of a greedy bitter old man. And when he finally begs to go back, that he wants to be born. He returns to his life with exuberance--” the joy in his voice makes her throat tight. “And the movie ends with the whole community rallying around him. His wife had seen his distress and called on those she knew loved him. They came in abundance, making him know that all his sacrifices meant the world to them. ‘No man is a failure who has friends’.” he quotes quietly. He smiles a bit ruefully, rubbing at his eyes, “it’s one of my favorites if you can’t tell.”
“It sounds lovely. I’ll have to watch it.”
“I hope you do.” He thought about it, “actually maybe I can figure out a way to get it for you,” he shrugged and then stood, “if you want. No pressure.” She heard a beeping in the hallway and he gestured, “anything else?”
“No, just… maybe another example next round?”
He laughed, “sure.”
He left and she ate her breakfast slowly. Instead of feeling empty, her brain felt fuzzy. And while it was still frustrating, she felt like it was a good sign. Wanda stopped by not much later and helped her to the bathroom and even into the shower. It felt good to be mostly clean, even if her broken casted arm had to remain in a plastic cover.
“Can I walk around?” She asked, “I feel useless just laying in bed.”
“I would need to assist you,” Wanda said, “your muscles will be weaker than you expect. “I have to tend to another patient, but maybe in a bit?”
“Whenever,” she said mildly. “No rush.”
Wanda was settling her back in bed, “perhaps if Steve is ready first? He might actually be able to keep you on your feet longer. How does that sound?”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “But only if he has time to spare.”
“I’ll let you know asap.”
_____________________
“So I heard you’d like to stretch your wings?”
She looked up to see Steve entering, pen tucked behind his ear and stethoscope draped around his neck.
“If possible,” she answered a bit desperately. “More than 24 hours lying down is rather miserable.”
“I know it is,” he said. “Here let me check your lungs and heart, make sure everything sounds okay before we strain them a bit.”
He helped her lean forward and she bit back a groan at the protest of her ribs. He handled her like she might shatter, gently supporting her shoulders, while listening to her lungs and heart.
“Everything sounds okay. Had any chest pain other than the bruising cracking?”
“Like?”
“Heart aches? Maybe feeling your pulse race or sluggish?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“Alright,” he draped his scope back round his neck and lowered her plastic guardrail and then the bed, “let’s get you up and moving.”
He helped her swing her legs over the bed and stand. He was holding one of her arms, the other extended, “want to take a step?”
She had walked to the bathroom with Wanda, so the first twenty steps were kind of painful, but mostly fine. They made it out the door and past the nurses station before she noticed the dip in energy. She forced herself to take another step and another. But the dizziness in her head was growing. Her muscles started to shake and she made an unsure noise in her throat. Before she could ask, his arm was appearing under both shoulders, helping take the weight off. He was standing beside her, his shoulder propped under one of hers and his hand gripping the opposite bicep, “feeling shaky?”
“Yes. Wanda was right. I feel like a newborn giraffe.”
He laughed, “that’s alright. You want to go back to your room?”
“Could we--” she looked up at his open expression and felt sheepish but pushed on, “finish the lap around? And then maybe back to the room? I’d like to walk a bit, even if you’re doing the heavy lifting.” Then she realized it would tie his hands, “unless you need to get to another patient?”
His eyes were amused, “I can manage. It won’t take long and while the emergency room might have a good amount of patients, our floors are pretty quiet on Christmas Eve and Day.” Then for some inexplicable reason he reached over with his free hand to the wooden handrail and knocked on it. When she looked at him quizzically, he smiled, “old nurses’ superstition. Never say “the shift is quiet”. You’re just inviting chaos then.”
“Ah,” They took slow steady steps, and she may have felt bad except she seemed to weigh next to nothing to him. He said ‘hello’ to a patient or two who passed. Wanda gave her a high five and a cautionary glance at her ribs. When they were halfway around, she adjusted her spine so her ribs didn’t ache so much and looked up at him, “you have another ‘moment’ example for me?”
He looked down at her, “you really want to hear? You’re not just humoring?”
“If I was, would I have asked so many times?”
“Alright…” he helped her side step a patient in a wheelchair, “surely you know about Home Alone?”
“I know of it.”
He stopped, looking at her in shock, “you’ve never seen it?”
“No,” she winced, “is that a crime here in America?”
He laughed, shaking her slightly with the motion, “might as well be. At least to me. Okay, here’s a deal. We have a TV in the nurses’ lounge. Super old. But it has a DVD player that has a smart app thing. I’m going to steal it and put it in your room and I will play them for you, okay?”
“That serious, huh?”
He was smiling as he looked further down the hallway, “truly classic. And me and my ma’s personal favorites.”
“Then I look forward to them.”
“But until then,” he paused in thought, let me think…” He snapped his fingers, “have you seen ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas?”
“No, I haven't even heard of that one.”
“I think it was late 90’s early 00’s. Not sure but it’s about this kid who never wants to go home because he thinks his dad remarried too soon after his mom died, and he’s not wrong but he’s a jerk about it and selfish. So his dad, to convince him to come home for Christmas, promises him this deluxe sports car that he’d been restoring. But he has to make to the house by 6pm, Christmas Eve.” They’re rounding the corner into her room. “Of course ridiculous hijinks ensue on his way home since he’s determined to get the car. But then throughout the plot, he starts learning about caring for others and when it comes down to it, he does actually make it home on time. But instead of going in and getting his reward, he chooses to stay outside watching his family sit down for dinner to purposefully miss the deadline.” They entered her room, “and when the dad decides to give it to him anyway, he turns it down saying they have to work on it some more together before it’s ready.”
“That sounds sweet,” she responded, allowing him to help her on the bed, “and there seems to be a lot of window gazing in these holiday movies.”
He adjusted her bed and blankets and tilted his head in thought, “you know? You’re right. I never thought of it that way. Probably the juxtaposition of warmth and safety in a house and the harsh cold of winter. Or perhaps just the beauty of family together against the backdrop of falling snow.”
They both looked out the window to see snow gently falling and something warm filled her chest, “it is beautiful.”
“I agree. I’ll be back with that Tv if you still want it?”
“Yes please.”
“You got it.”
—————————
She watches the little boy creep closer to the window, staring through the softly falling snow and smiling at the scene before him. The old man is hugging his granddaughter, son and daughter in law watching on. The old man catches sight of Kevin and gives him a warm smile and a grateful wave. Kevin waves back and she catches her throat getting scratchy at the music mixed with the touching scene.
“Kevin! What did you do to my room?!”
She laughed as the credits started to roll.
“What did you think?”
She turned to see Steve leaning against the doorframe, chart in hand.
“Hilarious and adorable.”
“What was the moment?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. And she could tell he was testing her. Had she been understanding his entire philosophy on Christmas?
“There’s two--” she said slowly and his eyebrow raised higher but he didn’t seem like he agreed. “Maybe three.” He stepped into her room, eyes now twinkling as a smile crossed his face. He seemed much more pleased with that answer.
“And they are?”
“First, the church scene.” He was listening, resting a hip against the end of her bed. “When he and the old man have their conversation. They both… change each other’s perspectives on things. It's the catalyst for the rest of the movie. Old grudges, fear of outside forces, family… It’s all changed by Christmas.”
He was nodding, “you’re spot on. And the others?”
“When Kevin wishes his family was back home. When he realizes that being alone isn’t what he wants.”
His voice was soft, “and the third?”
“The old man and his son.”
He tapped her toe with his pen and grinned, “you’re a natural.”
“For a silly comedy with the most ridiculous antics… it really was precious.”
Steve shrugged in amusement, “I agree, we’d watch it and the second one over and over.”
“There’s a second?”
The nurse smiled widely at her, “yes. And it’s based in New York. Interested?”
She nodded eagerly, “yes please.”
He chuckled, “Credit card? You got it.” Then he pointed to the clock, “I’ll be back soon.”
___________________________
Something must have happened because she didn’t see him for the next couple hours and Wanda was the one to care for her when she did need something.
“Are you working Christmas?” She asked Wanda who was changing the dressing on her head.
“No, I’m going to see my brother. He and I always spend Christmas together.”
She was in New York to see her brother. Whose name definitely was Michael.
The gasp made her nurse startle. “Did I hurt you?”
“No!” She turned, elated, “I have a brother named Michael! I’m here to visit him in New York!”
Wanda patted her gently on the back, “that’s fantastic! You’re remembering!”
Relief flooded through her. While everyone had been hopeful her amnesia was temporary, there was no confirmation. This was a major step in the right direction.
As Wanda finished, she thought over and over “Michael and-- Michael and… Michael AND--”
Her given and last name were as elusive as ever.
___________________________
It was late the 23rd before she saw him again. The other nurses she had on the opposing shifts were very kind, but none stuck out to her as much as him. The man full of so much Christmas spirit that every time she saw him on a new shift he was wearing a new pair of Christmas themed scrubs. Today’s were gray with white and blue snowflakes.
“I hear you’re starting to get things back?”
“I am,” she replied happily, “Michael is my brother. I’m here to visit. I have a cat.”
“A cat!” He seemed thrilled for her, “I’m so glad. I’m sure it’s a relief right?”
“It is. I just wish…”
“Your name will come to you. And I would bet your brother is looking for you right? If he knew you’d gotten to New York and then never appeared. He’s probably on the hunt.”
The thought made her sag with relief, “you’re probably right.”
“Lots of hospitals and lots of Jane Does to get through--” he said with a soft grimace, “but either you’ll remember or he’ll find you. I’m sure of it.”
“Because it’s Christmas?”
He nodded firmly, “because it’s Christmas. Speaking of which--” he pointed to the remote, “How did you enjoy Home Alone 2?”
She wrinkled her nose, “I… I haven’t watched it.”
“You didn’t? Did you not want to?”
“No, I wanted to wait.”
His brows came together in confusion, “wait? For what?”
Embarrassment flooded through her, but he was waiting for an answer. So she cleared her throat and tried to make it sound pragmatic. “I needed to make sure you were going to be around so I could discuss it with you when it was still fresh in my memory.”
His expression shifted to surprise. Then slowly morphed into something so soft and endeared that she knew she’d remember that expression forever. This was a man not used to being considered. Or, at least, that’s the feeling she got.
“You waited for me?” His voice was full of disbelief but also elated.
“Of course,” she replied quietly, “you’re my ghost of Christmas past, present and future-” the joke made him smile. “Had to wait for my guide.”
“Well,” he smiled, “happy to oblige. I’m on now for another 6 hours.”
“Then I’ll watch it and you can come back and see whether I’ve got the moment?”
Perhaps it was the fluorescents or the flicker of the medical equipment, but his eyes seemed to twinkle and he nodded, “will do.”
______________________
After a heart scan, head scan, and another X-ray, she was placed back in her room and given dinner.
While eating, she watched the hilarious second installment. Laughing when the hijinks ensued (and holding her sore ribs in the process) and watching when the music cued her that it was a sentimental moment.
Near the end, he’d been checking in on her and paused to watch a scene. But as the movie drew to a close, he stood here, hip against the edge of her bed and arms crossed. She watched both him and the movie and it was a delightful experience.
“Kevin! You spent $967 dollars on room service!”
The credits rolled and he seemed to come back to the present. After checking her monitors, he eyed her, “thoughts?”
“This one was harder to nail down,” she stated simply, “as the women in the attic at the concert hall was a similar call back to the old man, but not as vital to both of them. More to Kevin as he tries to fix his bad behavior with a very large good deed. But the heart conversation was poignant.” He was nodding and she continued. “I loved him saying ‘another Christmas in the trenches’.” He chuckled. “But I think the real moment was when his mom was looking for him, telling the police officer that “Kevin is braver and stronger” than she was. Which cut to him standing by the Christmas tree, asking to see his family again. Admitting he wanted to apologize.”
“That’s the main one.”
“And the other--” she looked at him, "was him at the end, leaving his presents to go give the turtledove to the woman. Telling her they’ll always be friends.”
“You’re a pro,” he smiled softly at her, “the Christmas miracle of those choosing to be better. And did you notice a common factor in both movies when it shows the family in the other locations?”
She tilted her head, “of what?”
“In the first, when they’re in Paris--” he gestured to the screen, “they’re watching It’s a Wonderful Life in French. In the second, when they’re in Florida, they’re watching It’s a Wonderful Life in Spanish.”
“Are they really?” She asked, “I guess I didn’t notice!” She gestured to the screen, “can I watch that one next?”
“It’s not on streaming,” he responded sadly, “but if you’re still here Christmas Eve and you’re willing to wait for me to come back on shift, I’ll bring my DVD copy.”
“You’re working Christmas Eve?” She asked, “what about family?”
His eyes tightened but he smiled, looking back at her charts, “hey someone has to take care of the amnesiacs, right?”
“Right,” she said quietly, aware that she’d somehow touched a sore subject.
_____________________________
The next morning, December 24th, Wanda was helping her back into bed and her curiosity got the better of her. “Does Steve always work Christmas Eve?”
Wanda eyed her, “who’s asking?”
“Me. I was surprised he was working but when I asked about his family he seemed… sad.”
Wanda was quiet for a moment and brought the small rolling table back around with the cup of water and pitcher. “He’s got plenty of people who care for him,” the woman said with a small smile. “I’ll be back with lunch in a few hours.”
__________________________
“Of course you’ll be in pain for a while. But that’s just the process of healing. I’d be ready to discharge you today if you had someone to pick you up. All you need is time, adequate rest and some pain medications. And of course to come back to get the cast off when it’s ready.”
The doctor looked at her with sympathy. She understood what he meant. Could feel it. The trauma her body had gone through was healing. And yes, it was painful but nothing crippling. A few more walks with Steve and a few with Wanda had found her to be much more stable on her feet. It was her lack of memory that was most concerning now but that was simply a test of time.
At least they hoped.
“But due to the fact we have no information on you, I think it’s best to keep you here. After Christmas day we can contact the police and start to investigate if anyone has submitted a missing persons report. Work backwards from there. But it being Christmas Eve… I doubt they’ve got the hands to spare.” After a few more minutes, he hung her chart and smiled sadly at her, “I know it’s not the most festive but at least for the Christmas meal the cafe tries to make it more special.”
A quiet thank you was all she said as he walked out her door.
_____________________________
It was dinner time and she was crying into her bowl of pasta.
“Help me Clarence, please! Please! I wanna live again!”
She then watched him run through the town with exactly what Steve had described. Exuberance.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter!”
She grabbed the tissues from the box and was able to hold it together through the final scene until his friends and family started to pour in through the front door. “To my big brother George. The richest man in town.”
She began to sob heavily and she heard a worried “are you alright?”
The strains of “Auld Lang Syne” began to play and she read the note on the screen:
“Dear George:
Remember no man
is a failure who has
friends.
Thanks for the wings!
Love
Clarence
“Oh…” she looked up to see Steve looking at her guiltily, “maybe I shouldn’t have given this one to you.”
She was part laughing and still actively crying as the movie finished, the characters singing the final lines of the song.
As the “The End" bell rang she sobbed one last time and covered her eyes, “that was a cruel trick.”
He winced, “I promise that if I’d watched the whole movie with you I would be having the same reaction.”
She was wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose rather unceremoniously as he cleared her now empty dinner tray and checked her vitals and monitors.
“Possibly the fact of no one knowing who he is was a bit too pointed.”
Steve grimaced, “I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before. I understand why it’s a classic now.” She felt him shift, ready to head back out but she didn’t want him to go. “Busy night on the floor?”
He turned back to her, “you’re trying to get me to jinx my shift aren’t you?” It was said with a teasing amusement and it made her stomach flutter strangely.
“More I was hoping to have some company… I mean… If you’re not too busy. It is Christmas Eve after all.”
Another bloom of surprise crossed his face. Then it shifted and he cleared his throat and pointed at himself, “you’re not sick of me shoving Christmas movies down your throat?”
She laughed softly, “quite the opposite. I appreciate the positivity.”
“Well,” he said, “I’ll make my rounds and come back as things go to night shift. How does that sound?”
“Lovely,” she responded, “I look forward to it.”
_______________________
Around 11pm. she was playing solitaire (Wanda had found her some cards) when he came back in.
“When does your shift finish?”
“About 10 minutes ago.”
She blinked in surprise, “you’ve finished?”
He nodded, settling into the pink chair.
“Oh…” she felt caught off guard. “I don’t mean to keep you from going home.”
Again the tightening of his eyes and a look of reservation, “I don’t mind.”
“Well I’m happy to have the company if you’re willing to share it.” She pointed to the cards, “you play?”
His eyebrow rose, “you wanna lose?”
She scoffed, “my memory may be mush but I still know how to win at cards.”
He shuffled the deck with expert skill, “we will see about that.”
____________________
They couldn’t do fast games on account of her ribs. But they could play most poker games and a few others.
And he wasn't lying. He was phenomenal at cards.
“Twenty one,” he grinned, flipping over a ten and an ace.
She tossed her cards to the table, “where did you learn to play cards like a shark,” she asked in a huff.
“The army,” he said wryly. “Where’d you learn to lose at cards?”
But her mind was on a new track now. “You were in the army?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re a nurse.”
He sighed, “I am now.”
“What changed?” His expression shifted again and she pointed, “what, what is it?”
“What?”
“Your face. You’re sad…? I’ve made you sad?”
His expression was reserved but not closed off, “you’ve asked about something sad. There’s a difference.”
“Oh…” They sat there in silence before she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know more about him. “Would you… like to talk about it?”
He raised an eyebrow, “now why would you wanna hear a sad little sob story on Christmas Eve?”
And the answer presented itself immediately. Almost like their entire time together had been leading up to this moment. “Because it’s Christmas,” she answered honestly. “Maybe this is our moment to change it from sad to something… less sad.”
She watched his face change from what it had been, reserved and self deprecatingly amused to wide open and vulnerable. She didn’t know how she could see it so clearly, but she could see in his expression that she’d managed to catch him completely off guard. His own philosophy used-- not against him, but for him.
His wide eyes stared at her and past her for a long moment before he was able to pull his thoughts together and shake his head, “wow… so the student becomes the teacher, huh?”
She smiled, resting her cards on the little table, “you’ve heard my sob story for days now. Woe is me. Woe is the forgetful woman lost at Christmas. Now it’s your turn.”
A half smile made her smile in response and he set his own cards down, tossing them lightly on top of hers. “Alright…” He looked out the window to the falling snow, “My ma was a nurse. Best nurse there was. I loved watching her get ready for work. She had such a purpose, such a desire to make people’s lives better. But… One day, just after I’d turned 19, she got sick. Violent new TB strain from a patient and she couldn’t shake it. Nothing they could do.” Peggy’s eyes were wide but she stayed quiet, listening. “So, to be able to pay for college, I joined the army. So did my best friend.”
“Is he how you learned cards?”
“Yeah, sure, him and a bunch of other soldiers. But we were 6 months left of our contract and he gets hit. Thrown from our transport and lost.” He was stating this factually, but the tightness in his eyes was there. “When I came home… the best thing I could think to do to honor both of them was help people.” He gestured to his scrubs, “and here we are.”
She leaned forward, ignoring her ribs, and resting her uncasted hand on his, “thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry for the terrible things that have happened. But you’re right. They’d be proud of you now. You’re a fantastic nurse. I know beyond a doubt that I could not have handled this whole situation with as much grace as I have--” she grinned, “without you here. I’m thankful to have had you care for me.”
His smile softened and he swallowed roughly while rubbing under his nose as if to distract himself. “Well, you’ve made this--” he looked at the clock, “Christmas day a lot brighter.”
“The magic of Christmas,” she stated simply, “I believe in it now. Because of you.” He was stunned and starting to smile. She looked to see the clock had just struck 12:01. A warm glow of holiday joy filled her chest. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”
“Merry Christm--”
“Peggy!”
They both jumped, the noise startling both of them.
“Peggy! Peggy, are you here!?”
A jolt through her mind. She gasped, “me--” she choked out, “that’s me!”
Steve was on his feet and out the door before she could react. She could hear one of the other nurses shushing someone. She struggled and got her legs under her, about to take a step when someone rushed in through the door.
As she saw his face, all the pieces that were missing fell one by one back where they belonged.
“Michael!”
“Pegs!” He rushed to hug her.
“Careful!” A voice warned. Michael stopped turning to Steve, “is she alright?”
“She’s doing great, but her ribs are still sensitive.”
Michael looked her over frantically, “are you alright Pegs? For the love of Nora you’ve scared us half to death missing for almost four days like that!”
Peggy was crying, “I couldn't remember! I didn't know my own name!”
He was shocked, “what!? But do you now?”
“I remember you, but not until you said my name did it click.”
She began to wobble and both men helped her sit back on the bed. “What else have you forgotten?”
“My suitcase,” she said breathlessly, “it was stolen! That’s why I don’t have any identification!”
Michael laughed, “we have it now! When I reported you missing, I put a hold on your cards. When the thief used them, they were able to grab him and question him. Eventually he told us where he’d been when he stole it and then I’ve been searching the surrounding hospitals for ages looking for you!”
They were both crying and the weight of the unknown shriveled and faded away. She was safe. Her family was here for her. She wasn’t alone.
“Merry Christmas,” Steve said quietly, “I’ll let you guys be and let the nurses know what happened. I’m sure they’ll discharge you, no trouble.” He waved at her, a bit of sadness in his eyes and then disappeared through the door and was gone.
__________________________
She spent Christamas day and the following few days being doted on by Michael, Lily, and even her parents who sent money to help with whatever she might need (which was thankfully nothing).
And while having her mind be fully hers again, and being safe and sound at a family home was wonderful… Her mind would not let him go. His positivity, kindness, sincerity… the way he’d helped her in her most worried state and not even blinked an eye. She was well aware it was his job… but what she knew wasn’t his job was the time he’d spent off the clock, or even on just simply chatting with her. Reminding her of the magic of a holiday season she’d hardly paid attention to since she was a child. And he’d been right. Michael had found her just past the stroke of midnight on Christmas Day as the snow fell softly outside.
Now everything about New York at Christmas time seemed magical.
“I still want to see the Rockerfeller tree!” She insisted, “before they take it down!”
“So crowded,” her brother sighed, “what possessed you to want to see such a touristy attraction?”
How could she possibly explain the sentimental nurse with a love for Christmas who had turned her entire view on the holiday on its head without sounding positively insane or infatuated?
“I just do,” she said firmly, “please?”
He shook his head, “Fine. When Lily gets back from work. We will go then.” Then he frowned at her. "It’s going to be very late, very cold, and hard to navigate.”
She grinned, “I can go alone if you prefer?”
He rolled his eyes and that was that.
_________________________
It was even more majestic in person. The sheer number of lightbulbs made her head spin and she couldn’t help but feel in awe. It was crowded at first but as it got later, the crowds thinned and soon there weren’t that many people around.
The area with the large light up angels and the plants and the twinkling lights was reminiscent and all it did was solidify one fact. She needed to speak to him again. She wanted to share this experience with someone who understood just how magical places like this could be.
Michael and Lily were nuzzling noses under the building’s overhang to the left and the strangest thought entered her mind. She would like to nuzzle noses with that handsome man. Would he like to nuzzle noses with her?
“Michael?”
“Hmm?”
It was cold, it was dark, and it was very late.
“I need to get to Brooklyn University Hospital.”
___________________________
After a bit of explaining and a lot of convincing, they managed to take the metro and make it back to the right area. Her ribs were sore and her muscles were a bit shaky but she knew what she wanted.
“You’re back?”
She turned to see Wanda smiling at her, “everything alright?”
Peggy nodded, “yes, I’m doing so much better. Thank you.”
The ward was quiet and Wanda looked around before a small smile appeared, “looking for anyone in particular?”
Peggy wrinkled her nose, “I hope so.”
“Well tall, sweet, and blonde is up in peds tonight.”
“Oh,” she replied, “he’s not always down here?”
“He takes shifts up there often.” Wanda looked at her watch, “but you better hurry. His shift is about to end.”
The nurse directed them back to the bank of elevators and told them how to get there. Excitement, dread, and hope all swirled in Peggy’s gut.
“I feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie,” Lily chuckled in the elevator, “rich business woman races after kindly nurse after amnesiac incident resets her priorities.”
Peggy thought about it for a minute before laughing softly herself. “I’m not that rich.”
They rolled their eyes at her as the elevator stopped and he doors beeped open.
They followed the signs until they came to the nurses station, “is Nurse Rogers here?” Peggy asked the kind looking man.
“He’s in the rec room,” the man pointed, “thataway.”
After a quick thanks she walked quickly, pausing at the door at the sight.
Steve, and his massive form, were sitting on a small chair, dwarfing it and the table. But what really caught her eye was the child, barely more than a toddler, gripping the large marker and holding it to his left shoulder where his sleeve was pushed back far and a tattoo resided. A stained glass style star, moon, and sun, was clear on his skin and the child was… her heart melted a bit, coloring it in. She could see an exhausted parent in another chair off to the side watching dutifully.
“Is that him?” Lily whispered, “holy shit no wonder you wanted to traverse this city to find him!”
Peggy grinned, “stay here the both of you.”
She pressed through the door and three heads popped up at her entrance. The child and the parent just seemed confused but Steve’s expression was full of surprise.
“You’re back!” He tilted his head, “is everything alright?”
“Everything’s perfect actually, I--” she looked around the room and then looked back at him with a smile, “I was hoping to talk to you?”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. I need some advice on Christmas.”
He easily believed her ruse and nodded, chuckling lightly, “of course.” he turned to the little girl, “Penny, might I talk to this nice lady for a minute?”
The little girl nodded and tapped his arm with her open palm, “pretty.”
He grinned, “It is pretty, you did such a good job.” He tapped the paper on the table distracting her attention and standing to meet her where she was. Michael and Lily were peering through the glass and she tried to wave them away before turning to face him.
Her head barely came to her chest now that she could stand on her own and he wasn’t crouching to support her on their walks.
“Hello,” she started.
He smiled “hello?”
“My name is Peggy Carter.”
His smile widened, “that’s fantastic! You remember everything?”
She nodded, “yes, but you’re not following the script.”
His expression faltered, brows pulling down, “script?”
She nodded adamantly, “yes. Hello--” she stuck out her hand, “I’m Peggy Carter.”
Hesitatingly, he reached out, shaking her hand, “hello. I’m Steve Rogers…?”
Peggy nodded, “nice to meet you. I was hoping you’d be amenable to a date.”
He balked, hand still squeezing hers, “a date?”
“Yes,” she drew out, “with me.”
“You…”
She laughed, “yes.”
He glanced back at the mom who was pretending not to pay attention but definitely had a soft smile on her face and the toddler who was half coloring on the table and half drawing on her little gown.
“Because I helped care for you?” He said slowly, looking confused.
She laughed, “no, no. This isn’t Florence Nightingale Syndrome. It’s me seeing the magic of Christmas like you taught me and I’m ‘lassoing the moon’ to ensure you know I’m serious. I’ve remembered everything. I know exactly who I am. And now I know exactly what I want. Which is to go on a date with you.” Accentuating her last word, she gently poked his scrubs, which at this extremely early hour in the morning were dark dark green with gold stars and flecks of silver snowflakes.
He took a moment to consider it and then nodded slowly, “alright…” there was a ghost of a smile and it grew, “yeah… I’d like that.”
“How about tomorrow, whenever you're free?” He nodded and she pulled him down using his scrubs and kissed his cheek, “wonderful.”
________________________________