and her parents were in chairs beside her. “What’s this?” She lifted her head and a slight smile brightened her face. “A Christmas tree? For me?”
“Yes.” Tommy set the tree on the table next to her bed. “I can’t let my best girl spend Christmas Eve at the hospital without a tree.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead. “How are you, love?”
She smiled with her eyes. “Tired.”
“A tree?” Annalee’s mom was on her feet, her arm around Tommy. “That’s so thoughtful.”
Her dad joined them on Tommy’s other side. “This hospital room needed a little Christmas green.”
Tommy looked back at Annalee. “She deserves it.”
Annalee’s dad nudged his wife. “Let’s get coffee.” It was nearly eight o’clock. He looked at Tommy. “Austin joined us earlier. He brought us all salmon and rice. Now he’s at a friend’s house.”
“Glad you had time together.” Annalee had wanted this evening with her family. Now Tommy waved to her parents as they left the room.
“They’re so sweet.” Annalee’s voice was weaker than it had been since the beginning. “They always let us have our time.”
“I know.” He was still standing at her bed. “Otherwise I’d have to wheel your bed down the hall so we could talk.”
“Tommy.” She laughed and made a face. “You don’t mean that.”
“No.” He took her hand and slid his fingers between hers. “I love your parents. But I don’t think I’d have this conversation in front of them.”
“True.” She turned her head on the pillow. “I wish I felt better.”
“What is it… nausea?” He pulled the chair as close to the bed as he could and sat down. Then he lowered the bed rail. Nothing was going to stand between them tonight.
“No, not like before.” She shrugged one slim shoulder. “I just feel weak. My platelets are off.” Her smile faded. “I’m glad it’s the last round.”
“And in a month you’ll know the good news. No Evidence of Disease.” This cancer thing had challenged Tommy’s faith like nothing in all his life. But God was here. He was with them, even now.
Tonight all he could do was try to make her laugh. Hold her cold hands and tell her it was all going to be okay. Even when the fear breathing down on him tonight was just like Pastor Dell had talked about. Enough to consume him.
He still didn’t understand why God would let Annalee go through this. Or how come she wasn’t feeling stronger today. Shouldn’t the treatment keep her moving in that direction? Was this a setback? Tommy closed his eyes for a moment. Please, God, don’t let it be a setback.
“I’m glad you’re here.” She was watching him. Almost like she wanted him to say something, do something that might help her feel better. Something to pep her up and breathe strength back into her.
But he had nothing. Nothing but his faith.
Not on Christmas Eve sitting next to a cheap three-foot evergreen tree with Annalee stuck in a hospital bed fighting cancer. Not when he felt like hanging his head and crying for days over the situation. How can I help her, God? Tell me, please?
Then Tommy remembered the other gift. The one he was more excited about. He had bought it two weeks ago and put it together after Dawson and Maddie’s proposal. The bag was beside him, so he reached inside and eased out the gift. So he wouldn’t mess up the bow.
Tommy didn’t know much about wrapping, so his mom had helped him. “Always use a bow,” she had told him.
His gift wrapping wouldn’t win any prizes. But as he handed the small package to Annalee, her whole face lit up. “More?”
“The tree was just… like Christmas flowers. That wasn’t your gift, silly.”
She took hold of her bed remote and raised the back up till she was in a sitting position. “Can you… adjust my pillow, please? It keeps sliding down.”
Tommy had been here other days when Annalee could raise her own pillow. More proof of how weak she was. He did as she asked and then he remained standing near her bed. “Want me to help open it?”
“I think I can get it.” She slid her finger under one end of the red and gold paper. Then her hand fell to the bed. A few seconds and she lifted one more flap. “What is wrong with me?” Annalee rarely sounded frustrated, but here… neither of them could understand this.
Panic seized him and he struggled to draw a full breath. Please, God,