Tidings of Comfort

The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Bros., etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no money is made from it. This story is not to be archived or distributed without the permission of the author.

Stories in the series can be found in chronological order at:

http://www.oocities.org/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/jordan.htm  
http://members.tripod.com/~maraldo/jordan.html  
http://members.tripod.com/~erfanfic/jordan.html  

Stories in the series:
A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity; Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Transition Game; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum; Aftermath; Letters Never Sent; Wonderful Things; The Mere Fragrance; Walking the Tightrope; Vernal Equinox; Bits of Broken Glass; What it's Not; Ayant Seulement L'Imagination; Culmination; Tidings of Comfort

My sincerest thanks goes to Ruth, Lisa, Claire, and Katy for their advice and support. Special thanks to Melissa for some "technical" advice. Thanks, too, to all the readers who keep me writing.

I have taken the liberty of branching out a bit -- much to the amusement of my editors :) As usual, I try to be as close to the story ER give us as possible, and it bothers me when I mess up (don't even discuss Seattle/Portland with me, I'll cry) but in this story, as you'll see, I had to make some assumptions. If I'm wrong, I'll need to medicate myself. Seriously.

I hope you enjoy it.

Tidings of Comfort
By Jordan
jturner36@juno.com 
AOL/IM: JTFicer

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow
And mistletoe
And presents on the tree 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carol spent each day in a sleep-deprived stupor. Since the time she'd come home from the hospital, armed with nothing more than a plentiful supply of Tylenol and a few brochures, Carol's life was out of control.

They'd come home a few days after she had delivered. Her mother, who was utterly smitten with her granddaughters, had readily volunteered to pick them up and take them home. Carol was relieved when she was able to be discharged. Ever since she'd delivered the babies, her room had been host to non-stop visitors. Haleh, Lydia, Yosh, Malik, and Chuny came by on every break, and each doctor in turn came to ooh and aah over the twins. Kerry and Elizabeth had visited the morning she was going home, wishing her luck and taking turns holding the babies. Kerry had even offered to change their diapers.

"Be my guest," Carol laughed.

"Thanks," Kerry smiled in return. She changed Tess and talked to her, telling her that she was a lucky girl to have such a wonderful mother.  Carol was touched at Kerry's sweetness.

"Thanks for stopping by," she said gratefully. "Any help is appreciated."

"It's my pleasure, Carol. They really are so beautiful."

Nodding, Carol closed her eyes briefly. "They are, aren't they?"

"Are you looking forward to going home today?" Elizabeth asked as she rocked Kate.

"Yes. I am," she replied.

Kerry laid the baby down. "Will you have some help? Someone to stay with you?"

Carol answered, "My mother will stay as long as I need her." 

"Good. I'd hate to think of you alone, without any..." Kerry began, but stopped quickly, avoiding Carol's eyes. She, as with all the other visitors, had been careful not to mention his name. Carol almost wanted to scream, almost wanted to demand that they say something, that they acknowledge Doug's absence, yet in the same breath she was grateful that no one had. Looking at their faces, she wondered if they blamed her for excluding him. 

In the end, it truly didn't matter what anyone else thought because Carol had already blamed herself.

*****

Once they got home, Carol tried in vain to establish some sort of order to their days and nights, but the babies had their own agendas. She had no time to cook any food, and even less time to do laundry and tidy up the house. Nursing them was turning into a nightmare. Carol's incision hurt and she had to experiment with ways to breastfeed them that kept their bodies and their weight off of it. They adhered to no schedule at all, and in fact there were days that Carol was in tears from the pain of her cracked nipples, the contractions of her uterus, along with the stitches on her bottom.

Helen tried to help, insisting that Carol should supplement them. "You had formula, Carol, and look at you! You're healthy. You should let me go buy formula to give them, so you can sleep at night."

"No, Ma," Carol had argued back, "I don't need formula. They're nursing because they need to. I don't want to supplement them."

"Suit yourself," Helen said, exasperated.

Helen cooked twice as much as they needed, putting the extra portions in the freezer for Carol. She cleaned the house and changed the sheets, did the grocery shopping and rocked the babies when they cried. Helen stayed for fifteen days straight, and on the day she was due to leave, Carol was so overwhelmed by the thought of getting by without her mother's help that she burst into tears.

"Oh, Ma...."

"What is it, Carol?" Helen asked, putting Kate down and sitting next to her daughter.

"I just...I can't thank you enough for all your help, for being here."

Helen frowned. "I'm your mother. What do you think, I wouldn't help?"

"No, no, I knew you would but you've done so much."

"Carol, I love you. I love you and Tess and Kate. Of course I would help."

The phone rang and her mother moved to pick it up, but Carol held her back. "Let the machine get it. Please."

Helen sat down again. "Carol...." she began.

"Please, Ma. Please. I can't, right now."

"All right," Helen replied dourly.

Feeling like she owed her mother some explanation, Carol began, "The thing is...I think I've really made...." 

When her daughter stopped talking, Helen pressed her. "Made what?" 

Carol regrouped, remembering the promise she had made to herself: She would never discuss him with her mother again. "Nothing. I am just so happy you were here with me," she said between her tears.

Helen took her youngest into her arms and held her. "I'm glad I could help you, Carol. Why don't you take a shower before I go? You'll feel better. The girls are quiet now. Go, take a minute for yourself."

"Yeah. I think I will." Carol wiped her face, got up and headed toward the bedroom. Once inside, she took her shirt off and her nursing bra, tossing the disposable nursing pads into the trash. Next, she gingerly pulled down her sweatpants, and walked to the bathroom, where she took her pad off and tossed her underwear into the hamper. Stealing a glance at herself in the mirror, she started crying anew. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples red and raw and leaking milk. Her abdomen was, to her eyes, huge and flabby, with a dark, angry scar across the lower part. The circles under her eyes were dark and her face was white from lack of sleep.

She looked awful.

"Carol, are you all right?" her mother called through the door.

"I'm fine," she answered, quickly swatting at her tears and trying to compose herself. "Just going into the shower now." She turned on the shower and waited for the hot water. Once it was steaming, she stepped into it and closed her eyes as the soothing heat enveloped her. For at least one more hour, she could avoid reality and pretend that she would be able to handle everything. 

*****

Everyone in the office was happy and cheerful, even as they were exhausted and stressed. The secretarial staff grumbled good-naturedly as they decorated the offices, laughing only after Patti hung mistletoe above her desk, saying, "I'm married, I'm not dead!" Parents compared shopping notes, making promises to buy an extra yellow Pokemon game for those not lucky enough to stumble across one as they shopped. They rolled their eyes at the size of the lists for their children, and their discomfort at the mounting credit card bills. Well, Christmas comes but once a year, they reminded each other, and they went out to buy even more.

Doug watched it all without really seeing any of it. He had never enjoyed Christmas, with the exception of the ones he had spent with Carol, and he had few gifts to buy, even fewer cards to mail. His mother had called a week after Thanksgiving and invited him, once again, to spend the holiday with them, saying that Howard could use some male company, but Doug declined as usual.

"I hate to think of you alone this year," she said in her most motherly voice.

"Ah, that's okay," he assured her, "You have fun, you guys deserve it. I'm covering pediatrics for a doctor who wants the weekend off to spend with her family."

"Has she called again, Doug?"

Doug smiled to himself. His mother was so direct. "No, she hasn't." 

"Do you think you should call her?"

"I have, but...I haven't had a chance to talk to her. I get her machine. She's still recovering, I'm sure her mother is with her.  Things must be pretty crazy there."

"You'll call her on Christmas, then?"

"I don't think so," he hedged. "She'll be busy with her family, her mother always has a crowd over." Doug pushed his memories of last Christmas out of his mind and cleared his throat. "I have to get back to work, Mom. Have a good trip."

"I will, dear. If you change your mind, you're always welcome."

"Thanks."

"Bye. I love you, dear."

"Love you, too, Mom. Bye."

He hung up and looked out the window at the colorless sky. His day was done, but he was stalling, not wanting to go home to his empty apartment or to his empty mailbox. He ran though the same useless exercise daily, trying not to get his hopes up too much, telling himself that he wasn't expecting a letter from her. Yet every day after work as he approached his mailbox, as he put the key in, his heart pounded.  Would this be the day he'd get a picture?

Who did they look like? Were they beautiful like their mother, were their eyes the same soft brown as hers? Was their hair curly? He wondered about all these things. Were they nursing, still, and if they were, how was she managing everything?

He'd told his mother only after he told Beth. But they were the only two he would confide in. He didn't want the rest of the office staff to know that he had two baby girls born out of wedlock, two girls he hadn't even seen yet. There was no way he could deal with the questions, with the comments, the accusatory whispers. "How could he stay away from them? Any self-respecting father would have rushed back to Chicago to see them."

Yes, he could hear them already, because those same whispers permeated his own conscience.

*****

One day stumbled into the next, and Carol found the strength somewhere deep inside of her to take care of the babies and herself. Christmas was looming and while she'd done her shopping early, finishing by the beginning of November, she'd done nothing more to get ready. Last year, the house had been decorated by Thanksgiving and their tree was trimmed, glowing beautifully at night. "This will not do," she explained to the twins. Wanting to provide a proper Christmas for them, Carol stole into the attic and brought down a few light boxes full of decorations.

The phone rang and Carol hesitated, turning up the volume on the answering machine.

"Hello, Carol, it's Elizabeth, just calling to...."

Carol picked up the phone. "Hi! I'm sorry, I was just changing
diapers," she fibbed. "What's up?"

"Well, Mark and I were wanting to come over to visit and he suggested I find out if there was anything we could do for you."

"Yes," Carol answered quickly. "Go down to the Jewel and get me a Christmas tree."

"Oh, Carol," Elizabeth objected, "Do you really want a tree from a grocery store? And isn't that something you ought to choose for yourself?"

"Normally, yeah, but I can't," Carol insisted. "I can't lift anything heavier than the babies right now, and getting out of the house is out of the question. I trust your judgment." 

"Well, if you're sure...."

"Yes, that would be wonderful."

"Fine, then. We'll be over after lunch, about three or so?" Elizabeth proposed.

"That'll be great. Thanks for calling." She hung up and turned around. "So, girls, where do you think we should put our tree this year?" Carol asked her sleeping daughters. "In front of the window? I think so, too." 

Venturing back up into the attic, she found their tree stand. When she returned, she walked over to check on them. It was a rare moment of silence, and she cherished it. Glancing at the clock, she did a quick calculation. It was 1 p.m. All she wanted to do was lie down for a while. The babies might just be able to hold out for one more hour before nursing, and by the time they were finished, she'd have about 20 minutes or so to get herself together before they brought the tree. The house was a mess and she really wanted to straighten up before they came over, but her need for a quick nap was more pressing.

Kate moved in her sleep and Carol walked over to the port-a-crib and covered her up, making sure Tess was tucked in as well. "Please sleep," Carol implored them softly. She literally fell into the couch, pulled the white afghan over her, and was asleep almost instantly.

Ten minutes later, she awoke to the sound of Tess stirring. It was amazing that here they were, only a bit more than three weeks old, yet she could distinguish between their cries. "Okay, sweetie, okay."  Even before Carol reached Tess, her milk let down. "Oh, man," she complained. "Remind me to get more nursing pads. Hey, Tess? Don't wake up your little sister. Here you go." Tess frantically bobbed her head as Carol pulled up her sweatshirt, put the nursing pad aside, and pulled the flap of her nursing bra down. "Here, here, take it easy.  Shh-shh-shh," Carol crooned. 

Tess began nursing vigorously, and Carol took a deep breath. Her cracked nipples were just now healing, but they were still tender. As she relaxed into the back of the couch and closed her eyes, Kate began to wail. "Aw, Kate...couldn't you have waited a while?" she asked futilely. She broke the seal between Tess' mouth and her nipple with her finger and placed her down on the couch, being sure to put a pillow beside her so she didn't roll off. Tess began screaming, indignant that her meal had been interrupted.

"Hang on, let me get your sister." Carol picked up Kate and rushed back to the couch, hastily arranging the pillows on either side of her. She repositioned Tess, who frantically began nursing again., then pulled down the other side of her bra and guided Kate over to her other breast, helping her latch on as well. "There, see? There's enough of Mommy to go around. Barely," she sighed.

*****

There was no way of knowing how long he had sat daydreaming in his office, but he was jarred back to reality by Beth, who sprang into his doorway gleefully.

"Whatcha doing tonight, Douglas?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Douglas?"

"Okay -- whatcha doing tonight, Doug?"

"Nothing much," he answered, smiling. "Why are you so happy?"

"No reason," she grinned at him.

"You're lying," he accused her.

"Guilty as charged. Things are just good. Really, really good."

"'Things' meaning Alan?"

"Among other things," she admitted.

Doug quietly admired her. When she was happy, her face just glowed.  "And what are you doing tonight, Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth? Ugh. Touché. We are going to the mall, shopping."

"Well, have a good time."

"No, 'we' meaning you and me."

"No, *we* are not," he replied.

Beth still beamed. "Sure we are. I need help. I'm buying Alan's present tonight and you're going to help me."

"No, since I have no Christmas shopping to do, the last place I wanna be is at a crowded shopping mall. The idea of listening to screaming toddlers and seeing teenagers with every last appendage pierced...."

"Please come with me," she cajoled.

Doug leaned back in his chair, away from her. "No thanks."

"Okay. You had your chance. I was even going to pay for dinner," she added as she walked out his door.

"Have fun," he called after her.

Doug was happy with the way their friendship had resumed. Within the last month, she'd been transformed by her relationship with Alan. Due to that transformation, he and Beth were no longer estranged, but her feelings toward him had changed. She was so focused on Alan, so joyful in her relationship with him, that it made it easier for Doug to be around her. They had spent limited time together, it was true, but he found it easier to be with her now, knowing the short, thinly disguised expressions of love for Carol he shyly shared wouldn't hurt Beth. She in turn confided in Doug, talking about the wonders of falling in love with a man who loved her back.

Dammit. He could kick himself now for turning her down tonight. She was obviously trying to cheer him up. Since the birth of the babies, he'd been almost zombie-like. Spending his days idly thinking about them, about how they were doing. Yearning to be with Carol, to share this special time with her. Wanting to help her. She must be exhausted, caring for two babies alone.  

He shook his thoughts from his mind and picked up his phone, dialing Beth's extension.

"Beth Lasko."

"What time?" he asked.

"What time what?" she asked, relishing the opportunity to tease him.

Doug frowned into the phone. "I thought you wanted to go to the mall?"

Laughing, she demurred. "Maybe I've made other plans now. Maybe I don't need you after all."

"Sooner or later, you'll need me, Beth," he admonished her.

"Let me change after work, and I'll pick you up at six. Okay?"

"Okay." Hanging up, he felt immensely grateful that Beth was back in his life.

*****

Beth was characteristically on time, and he, of course, was running late. She noticed that he was quiet on the ride to the mall and although she tried to engage him in small talk, he gave one or two word answers and spent most of the trip gazing out the window.

Once they got there, she sensed that he wasn't ready to shop yet. "Do you want to grab a bite to eat first?" she asked.

"Yeah, that'll be fine."

They strolled around until they came to a small Italian restaurant and waited a few minutes to be seated. Beth slid into the booth and waited for him to get settled. 

"You're awfully quiet tonight," she observed.

"I guess I am. I'm sorry."

"You hate this, don't you?"

Smiling, he replied, "Well, it's not as crowded as I thought it would be. But, yeah, I hate it."

"It's not too bad during the week," she agreed.

"So, you're shopping for Alan?"

Beth bowed her head and laughed. "Yes, I am."

"Things must be good...."

"Things are very good." Beth gathered her thoughts carefully, wanting so much to share them with him. "He's been a wonder," she said quietly.  "I can't describe to you how he's changed my life."

"How?" Doug encouraged her.

"I don't know. He's relaxed and easy-going. Nothing bothers him; he's patient and sweet and...I don't know, I'm having the most phenomenal time." She looked at Doug and shook her head. "I'm falling in love, and it doesn't scare me at all."

"I'm glad, Beth. I am." Doug smiled back at her. "What are you going to get him?"

"I don't know. I'm thinking maybe a gold bracelet. Maybe a gold necklace. Something personal."

"And you needed me for this?" he chided her.

Beth eyed him knowingly. "Actually, I needed for you to get out amongst the living."

Doug chuckled. "Ah. A lawyer and a psychologist."

"I don't need to be a psychologist to see that you're not doing all that well, Doug."

"I guess not." He became quiet and fiddled with the envelope in his pocket. "Wanna see them?"

"See who?"

His eyes shone. "My daughters."

"Is that why you were so quiet on the ride here?" she asked.

Doug shrugged shyly in reply.

Beth smiled warmly. "She sent you a picture?"

"Yes. She did. Three." Doug pulled them out of his jacket pocket and took the photographs out of the envelope. "See, this is Tess," he told her, pointing. "She's the older one. And this...this is Kate. This other one, this is the two of them together." 

Beth looked down at the photos and her eyes filled. "They're beautiful, Doug."

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?" he agreed quietly.

"Did she send anything else? A letter?"

"No." He took them back and looked at them again. "No, but this...this is great. They're...this is great, to see pictures."

She squeezed his hand briefly. "Why don't you go? Get on a plane, just show up."

"That would hurt her, to see me. I mean, I've called a few times, but I haven't been able to...." He shook his head slightly. "I've...hurt her enough."

*****

After dinner, they stopped at one of the many jewelry stores and Beth picked out a gold bracelet for Alan and had it gift-wrapped. Doug enjoyed watching her excitement, and got a kick out of her as she asked him over and over again if she'd made a good choice.

"He'll like it, Beth. You're obsessing."

"I'm not obsessing," she said defensively. "I just want to be sure."

"Be sure. It's great," he said confidently.

Just as Doug felt ready to go home, he saw Beth eyeing a lingerie shop and she ambled toward it. 

He stopped abruptly.

"Doug, can we...." she asked coyly, turning to face him.

"No."

She huffed at him. "But...."

"No," he said forcefully. "I am not going in there with you. You go on, you...get what you want and I'll meet you back here on the bench."

Beth shot him a teasing smile and entered the store. He turned and walked slowly away, immune to the crowd that had somehow gathered when he wasn't looking. It was as if he were watching it all in a movie.  People rushed by him, kids cried. He was able to remain so detached from it, so untouched. To him, it would be just another Christmas. Just another Saturday.

He was only vaguely aware of the music playing overhead and stopped to pay attention to it. When he did, it made him smile.

"Sleigh bells ring...are you listening?
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
Walking in a winter wonderland...."

Carol had sung that song last year when they went out to get a Christmas tree. It was a bright, sunny day and the air was cold and crisp after the snow fell. She was all bundled up, her face was happy and glowing.  As she dutifully inspected each tree for hidden flaws, she'd just started singing in her own, off-key, silly way. My, she was loud. So loud that he'd laughed at her girlish exuberance and then pulled her into his arms and kissed her, smiling down at her face. "What's this sudden urge to sing?"

"I'm just happy. I am so happy today." Carol smiled and held his face in her mittened hands. "You make me so happy."

He could still feel her. In his mind, he could feel her.

When Doug looked up again, he was drawn to the window of a store. He'd never seen a store like it, although he was sure they existed everywhere. But Doug, who could count on one hand the times he'd even ventured into a mall, was amazed. Walking in through the door, he stopped, overwhelmed. Then he walked around slowly, looking and listening. 

"Can I help you, sir?" a middle-aged woman asked.

"No. I'm just looking. Thanks," he answered absent-mindedly. Then he became lost in his daydreams as he browsed.

Beth was sitting on a bench, waiting patiently for his return. When she spied him, she waved so he could find her.

"Hey, I thought I'd lost you," she said warmly.

"Nah, I was just walkin' around."

"You buy something?" she asked, noting the bag he carried.

"Nothing much," he answered in an off-hand manner. "Get everything you need?"

"Well, for now. I'm ready to go."

"Good. Let's get out of here." Doug walked slightly ahead of her, happy to leave the mall behind him.

*****

Carol had just finished nursing them, changing their diapers and putting them back down to sleep when the doorbell rang. "It can't be...." she exclaimed, turning toward the clock. Sure enough, Mark and Elizabeth were right on time.

Smoothing her hair, adjusting her bra and her sweatshirt, Carol walked to the door and opened it.

"Hey, come on in," she welcomed them.

"Carol, you look wonderful!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"You are a good liar, my friend," Carol said in return, grinning.

"We're here to deliver a tree," Mark chimed in.

"Oh, guys....thanks so much." Carol teared up, but stopped herself.  "Thank you. Let's put it up right there."

"None of this 'let's' business," Elizabeth warned her. "You sit down, Mark and I will take care of this." And they did. The tree's branches were settling and the smell of pine was in the air."

"You guys picked a great tree," Carol complimented them. "How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe us anything," Mark stated. "It's our present to Tess and Kate."

"No, really," Carol objected.

"No, really," countered Elizabeth. "Just enjoy it this year."

Carol was about to argue further, but the doorbell rang. "Stay there, I'll get it," Mark said, and he went to the door and opened it. "Looks like it was UPS." He carried a medium-sized brown cardboard box into the house.

"Ooh, a present?" Elizabeth asked.

Mark was quiet as he brought it in. He looked over at Carol and smiled weakly. "It's from Seattle," he explained.

Unable to answer him, Carol lowered her eyes.

Elizabeth peered at the label. "It's addressed to you. Aren't you going to open it?" she prodded.

"No. It's...." Carol searched for an excuse. "It's not Christmas yet.  You can't open presents until Christmas."

Mark shot a warning look over to Elizabeth. "Of course you can't. I'll just put it under the tree for now." Mark laid the package under the branches. 

Elizabeth persisted. "It's the first present you've got under the tree, hmm?"

Carol looked up at her. "Yeah."

"Rather fitting. Have you heard from him?"

"Elizabeth!" Mark hissed.

Carol diffused the tension. "No, it's okay. No. I mean, he's called, but I've been so busy...."

Neither Mark nor Elizabeth had the courage to discuss it further, so after a few awkward moments, Carol smiled and said, "Can I get you some hot cocoa or something?"

"Yes, cocoa would be lovely," Elizabeth answered quickly.

"Good. I'll...I'll go make it now," Carol said and walked into the kitchen. She never noticed the sad look that passed between her friends, who both felt powerless to help her.

***** 

Carol's days went by in a blur and she found little opportunity to rest.  The babies grew steadily, but they were nowhere near ready to sleep through the night and she found herself even more exhausted as Christmas approached. She made plans to visit with her mother on Christmas Eve, and then arranged for Helen to drive her back home and spend the night and Christmas morning with her and the babies, but of course that never transpired. Kate was cranky and crying incessantly and when Carol took her temperature, she became alarmed that the baby had a fever. Her pediatrician's office was closed, so she bundled everyone up and headed to County, knowing someone there would check her out.

Fortunately, Luka Kovac examined her and found nothing terribly amiss.  Carol slept in the lounge, thanks to the kindness of her coworkers who watched the babies, and by the time she woke up, it was almost light out. Luka graciously offered to drive Carol and the babies back to her house, and Carol was so thankful that he had. The thought of battling the train with the girls so early in the morning had exhausted and concerned her.

So, they buckled Tess and Kate into Luka's car and she gave him directions to her house.

"You don't live so far," he observed.

"No, it's fast by car, but it takes a lot longer to get here by train."

"I'm happy to have a car now," Luka told her. "It makes everything easier."

"Yeah, I haven't had a car of my own for a long time," she replied.  "Here it is, make this right. My house is on the right, right after the El."

Luka pulled over smoothly and they each took a baby carrier into the house. Once the babies were undressed, changed, and settled in the port-a-crib, she went into the kitchen to make the eggnog. Walking back into the living room, she extended her hand. "Here you go."

"Thank you. Is it dangerous, drinking this even with the rum?" he asked, teasing her.

Carol flashed a smile. "No. Not at all. I don't make my own, this is from a carton. Perfectly safe.

Luka nodded and took a sip. "This is good."

"I thought you'd like it."

He pointed to her glass. "You're drinking rum too?" 

"No. No rum in mine, because I'm nursing," she explained.

"Ah, good. You take good care of them. They are growing well."

"Thanks," she said, smiling in their direction. "They wear me out, though. It was hard enough, being home with them, but with the holidays, too, it's been...just really hard."

"At least you got out to get a tree," he noted.

"No," Carol clarified, "that was Mark and Elizabeth. They brought it last week. They helped me decorate, too, which was nice."

"Shouldn't Santa have come already for the girls?" Luka asked, noticing only a very few presents under the tree.

"Santa is on a budget," Carol replied, shaking her head. "They'll get lots of stuff at my mom's, I'm sure. My family is...effusive, shall we say?"

"Effusive?"

"Um, yeah," she explained. "Unrestrained. They sort of overdo everything."

"Ah, okay. They will spoil them then?"

"That they will," she said, laughing softly.

"That one, it's not even wrapped up," he noted, pointing to a medium-sized brown box nestled under the branches.

Her demeanor changed almost immediately and her face fell. "No, it's...it's from out-of-town."

"Is it for you?" he inquired gently.

Looking down, she smiled slightly. "I don't think so. It's addressed to me, but it's probably for the girls."

"And you're not even curious enough to open it? It's Christmas," he joked.

"We'll -- the girls and I, we'll open it up when they wake up.  It's...it's from their father," she reluctantly confided.

He lifted his head in surprise. This he hadn't expected from her. He never pried or asked for personal information. Clearing his throat, he asked, "He is not here?"

"No." Carol looked at the tree and he saw such sadness in her eyes.

"Mmm." Luka remained quiet, not wanting to intrude on her privacy.  Then it was silent for a long time, and he realized that no more information would be forthcoming. "Well, I'm going to go home and get some rest. I'm working again this afternoon. Thank you for the eggnog."

His voice had almost startled her, and she snapped back to attention. "No, really, thank you for taking such good care of the baby. I appreciate it." Carol got up and handed his coat to him. "Merry Christmas, Luka. Thanks again."

"Merry Christmas, Carol. Merry Christmas, girls," he quietly added, smiling in the babies' direction. "Good night. Get some rest."

"I will. Be careful going home. Good night." She closed the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. Carol was happy for the company, but relieved that Luka finally left. It was odd, having another man in her house. He was lonely, she could tell. Lonely like she was.  Glancing at the clock, she was dismayed. Almost seven o'clock in the morning. Oh, man. "Sleep, sleep," she implored her children. Once again, she crawled onto the couch and slept.

It was bright outside when Tess began crying. Carol rubbed her face and tried to look at the clock with blurry vision. Nine o'clock in the morning. She sat up, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. It was cold in the house, and she walked over to the thermostat to kick the heat up. "Okay, mommy's coming, Tess," Carol promised. Tess was sleepy, but hungry, and when Carol picked her up, the infant stretched and grimaced. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart." Carol brought her to the big, easy chair that had been Doug's favorite, and cuddled her, exposing her breast, tucking them both into the blanket. "Hey, little girl. It's your first Christmas." Tess nursed, oblivious to anything else besides the warmth of Carol's milk and the comfort of her arms.

Carol studied her daughter's face, stroking it, tracing her eyebrow, then her cheek. "You look like him. I was afraid of this," she confessed to her daughter. "I thought it would just be boys who would...." She began shaking. Crying uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Tess. I'm sorry. This isn't what I had planned at all."

*****

Doug walked down the corridor and climbed three flights of stairs to the fourth floor. Pediatrics. He took a deep breath and opened the service door. The large, expansive fourth floor desk was deserted, save one unit clerk who was thinning a patient chart. Doug nodded his greeting and gazed at the board. Dr. Phillips's name was next to five different patients. Doug walked down the left side and into the pod, taking the first chart, room 404..

A pretty, young nurse smiled at the sight of him as she walked by.  "Merry Christmas, Dr. Ross."

"Hey, good morning," he answered, before opening the chart. He flipped through the notes and familiarized himself with the patient's information. Jared Williams, 9 years old, presenting with diplopia, headache, nausea and vomiting, papilledema. He was admitted through the ER and the patient was scheduled for an MRI and a neuro consult.

Doug knocked on the door and entered the room. "Good morning, I'm the pediatrician on-call, Dr. Ross."

The parents rose. "Hello, I'm John Williams and this is my wife, Sue."

"Nice to meet you. And, you must be Jared."

"Hi," Jared answered. 

Doug had to smile looking at the boy. His skin was coffee-colored and his eyes were the darkest brown. "So, Jared, you're throwing up and having some trouble seeing, is that right?"

"I see two of everything."

"Yeah, so I see here." Doug began his physical exam as the parents watched on quietly, afraid to move. "Mr. and Mrs. Williams, did they tell you anything in the ER?"

"Just that he'd need an MRI and they had to wait for the radiologists this morning."

"Right. We'll have to see what's causing his symptoms, and an MRI will help us see if anything's going on neurologically." 

"What do you mean?" Mr. Williams asked.

"Well, we want to take a look to rule out anything within the brain itself that could be causing his symptoms."

Mrs. Williams exchanged a worried look with her husband, and then lowered her voice. "You mean like a brain tumor?"

"Well, that's one possibility," Doug began, "but let's not get ahead of ourselves. The order is in for the MRI and I'll order a neuro consult as well. We'll know more in a few hours, okay?"

"Yes, okay, thanks."

Turning his attention back to the boy, Doug pretended to admonish him, adding a smile. "Now, Jared, no getting out of bed without mom or dad here to help you, okay?"

"Okay."

He then asked Mrs. Williams, "Do you have a regular pediatrician?"

She shook her head. "No, we don't. We moved here about three months ago, and I just haven't gotten around to it. I mean, he's current with all his immunizations, and I just haven't had the need to see a doctor for him since we've been here."

"Okay, that's okay." Doug finished his examination. "So, do you think Santa has come at your house already, buddy?"

"I think so. Mom said she'd check when she got home."

"Good, well, I'm sure he came. You let me know. I'll see you in a bit," Doug said and began to walk out.

Jared called after him. "Did he come to your house?"

"What's that?" Doug asked, scratching his chin as he turned around to face the boy.

"Do you have kids?" Jared asked.

Doug smiled down at the little boy. "Yes, I do."

"Boys or girls?"

"Uh...two girls," he answered softly.

Jared's eyes were wide. "What are their names?"

"Tess and Kate."

"Do they like Pokemon?"

Doug looked puzzled. "Pokemon, what is that...those, uh, cards?"

"And the cartoon and on Gameboy," Jared explained.

"They're too little yet. They're babies," Doug laughed in reply.

"Why aren't you home with them? It's Christmas."

Doug struggled for an answer. "Well...I have to work today."

The little boy thought about that for a moment. "Did you see if Santa came before you left to come to work?"

"Uh, you know...I left so early, I didn't have a chance to look. I'm sure he came," Doug told him.

"Were they good?"

"Yes. They were very, very good. I'll check up on you in a bit, Jared."

Doug walked out into the hallway and paused a moment to collect himself, then went over to the board. One of the nurses intercepted him.

"Doctor Ross, they need you in labor and delivery. A patient has delivered a baby with Down syndrome and the obstetrician is asking for a pediatrician to talk to the parents."

Sighing to himself, he nodded his understanding. He walked to the stairwell and walked down one flight. He pressed the button and was admitted to labor and delivery.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Ross. You had a delivery this morning of a baby with...."

"Yes, Dr. Ross," the nurse interrupted him. "Room 302."

"Can I see the chart?"

"Sure, it's over there," she pointed. Doug sat and gathered the chart to him, glancing at the notes. "Hypotonic? Uncomplicated delivery?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "The parents are anxious, they have a lot of questions and Dr. Ramalda was called to another delivery."

"That's fine, I'll talk to them," Doug assured her. "Where's the baby?"

"In the nursery. They're cleaning her up now."

"Okay, thanks." Doug walked around, trying to get his bearings. It had been months since he'd been on the floor and he tried to remember where the newborn nursery was. He found it, finally, and pushed the door open.  The baby was being dried off after her bath and was crying. "Hey, hi," Doug said, greeting the nurse.

"Hi, you are...?"

"Doug Ross. I'm a pediatrician, I'd like to see her before I talk to the parents."

"Oh, sure, no problem," the nurse said. She finished drying the baby off and put her on a table with warming lights so she could delay dressing her.

"What's her name?" he asked as he gloved up.

"Emily."

"Hey, there, Emily," Doug crooned, smiling at the infant. He opened her tightly clenched fists and looked at the single crease of her palm, then noted the fold on the inner eyelid. "Merry Christmas, darlin'." Doug listened to her heartbeat, checked her reflexes, and put his pinky into her mouth to check for her suck response. "She nurse yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Let me know how she does today, if she needs help. She's a little weak right now."

"Yes, doctor."

"Okay, Emily, you get dressed and I'll go talk to your mom and dad."  Doug allowed the nurse to step in front of him. "What room is the mother in again?"

"In 302."

"Thanks. As soon as you can, bring the baby to her, okay?"

"Yes, fine."

Doug nodded and walked out, searching for Emily's mother. He heard a woman crying inside of the room and tapped lightly on the door.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Ross, the pediatrician."

"Come in, hi, Michael Randhart, and this is my wife Linda."

"Hi. Your pediatrician, Dr. Phillips, is out of town and I'm covering for her. I examined Emily and wanted to talk to you, answer any questions you might have. Congratulations. Your baby is beautiful and she's doing fine," Doug said sincerely.

"Thank you," Linda said quietly, wiping her eyes.

"Thank you, Doctor," Michael echoed.

Doug turned his attention to Mrs. Randhart. "Uh...did you have any indication during your pregnancy that the baby might have Down syndrome?"

"Yes. I did. My doctor told me my risk was higher, due to my alphafetoprotein test. We didn't want an amnio, we were just hoping that she'd be okay. I mean, we knew there was a risk, but we really weren't prepared." Linda started crying harder, and her husband comforted her, then faced Doug.

"Doctor, can you tell us what we can expect in terms of development?"

He nodded. "Well, I'll speak in general terms because every child is different. Some babies with Down syndrome have problems breathing because their mouth is smaller than average and their sinuses may not be as developed as you'd expect. They might breathe through their mouths, and their tongue might protrude a bit, you know, stick out between their lips. Sometimes this, in addition to the low facial muscle tone, can make it hard for the baby to nurse. Were you planning on breastfeeding?"

"No," Linda answered.

"Okay, then we'll see how she does with a bottle."

Michael cleared his throat and spoke again. "Doctor, what are we looking at, medically?"

Doug paused to collect his thoughts. He wanted to answer their questions, but didn't want to inundate them with too much too soon.  "Well, I can give you some more information later, but I can tell you that in general, children with Down syndrome are at an increased risk for congenital heart defects, infection, respiratory problems, gastrointestinal disorders. Otitis media, uh, ear infections. But not every baby with Down syndrome has these health problems and most things can be treated."

Linda asked, "Will she talk and...learn anything?"

"Well, it's hard to say, but in all likelihood, yes. She'll most likely go to school with the kids from your neighborhood and can lead a happy, productive life. Early intervention is important."

The nurse walked in with Emily and a bottle of formula. "Time to feed her." Linda took her baby into her arms and smiled down to her. "Look at her eyelashes, they're almost colorless."

"She's blonde, like you," Michael said. "She's gorgeous."

Doug smiled, seeing the mother and father huddled over their infant.  "Let's see how she does eating."

Linda took the bottle from the nurse's hand and propped Emily up in her arms. "Here you go, sweetheart. " Emily drowsily mouthed the nipple, but seemed disinterested.

"Tickle her feet," Doug advised her. "Helps wake her up." Linda did just that and Emily opened her mouth and began sucking on the bottle.

"That's my girl," Linda said sweetly.

"Looks like she's got a good start. I'll stop in later, check her. I'll make sure you get some more information, and Dr. Phillips will see her tomorrow when she's back on call."

"Thank you," Michael said, and turned back to his wife and newborn. 

"Keep me updated," Doug said to the nurse, then walked out. The baby had been so small, and he couldn't help but wonder how his own babies might have grown over the last month. They were probably half again as large as little Emily.

Just as he was about to head down the hall to see another patient, he caught a glimpse of Jared being wheeled down to radiology. Doug sighed. 

Merry Christmas indeed.

*****

Hours went by and Doug was in his office, buried in paperwork, when his pager beeped, startling him. He dialed the number and the charge nurse answered.

"Pediatrics."

"Doug Ross, responding to a page."

"Yes, Dr. Ross. Just wanted to update you. Jared Williams came back from radiology. The neurologist is talking to the family about the MRI."

"Cerebellar astrocytoma?"

"Yes," she answered.

He exhaled slowly. "Damn. Okay, uh, the neurologist is in with them?"

"Yes. The family is asking for pastoral care, so I've paged the chaplain."

"Good. Thanks. I'll check on them later, before I leave."

"I'll let them know," she told him and then hung up.

Doug propped his feet up on the desk and stared out at the city, feeling as if he'd helped no one at all.

*****

A few hours went by and Doug readied himself to leave. He packed up his briefcase and shut his office lights, finally pulling his door closed behind him. Glancing at his watch, he figured he had time to stop in and check up on Jared Williams. After all, he had no real plans for his Christmas holiday.

As he arrived on the floor and approached the room, he nearly ran into a priest who was walking out.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," Doug said.

"No problem. Are you the neurologist?"

"No, the pediatrician, Doug Ross." He extended his hand and the priest shook it firmly.

"Father John Stella."

"Nice to meet you," Doug replied.

"Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Sure, sure, let's, uh, step away from the room."

Doug and the priest walked down the hall a bit and stopped, facing each other.

"I wanted to relay to you how grateful Mr. and Mrs. Williams are for the care their son has gotten today."

Doug ducked his head. "Oh, thanks. That's okay. I really didn't do much. It's a tough thing, you know, for a family and a kid."

"What's his prognosis, if I may ask?"

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "It depends upon what they find when they go in. Neurology takes it from here."

"I see. Well, this family has great faith. I'm sure you're anxious to be with your family too, hmm Dr. Ross?" the priest asked.

"Yeah," said Doug, dismissing him.

"Well, I'll pray for them, since you've been away from them all day, working."

Doug stared at him. "Uh...okay." He turned to walk away, but something held him back. "Can I show you a picture? Of my girls?"

"Yes, please." 

Doug took them out of his breast pocket and handed them over.

The priest took the picture from Doug's hand. "Twins. What are their names?"

"Tess and Kate."

Father Stella examined the picture, then studied Doug's face, seeing something in it that he couldn't identify, but that he suspected Doug meant to hide. "You know, Dr. Ross, for me, Christmas is all about the child. Two thousand years ago, Mary gave birth to a child who has given love and hope to people ever since. Each time I baptize a baby, I think of the joy and love that child will bring to those around him or her, and I remember how God faithfully loves us, even if he seems far away. Even when we are desperate in our sadness. He loves us even more than you love your children, if you can imagine that. These baby girls are lovely. I will pray that God blesses them and keeps them safe." Smiling kindly, the priest handed the picture back.

"Thanks. Uh...thank you," Doug said awkwardly. He stared at his picture once again and tucked it back into his pocket. "Merry Christmas."

"To you, too. And, if you don't mind, I'd like to pray for you, as well."

Doug looked at him, nodded briefly, and walked away.

*****

Carol was running late for her mother's house, but for once she didn't care. The girls were fed, bathed, changed and dressed in their Christmas outfits. She'd even had time to put on make-up and found a pair of stretch pants that matched her black sweater, so she looked presentable enough to go to her mother's house for Christmas day.

"Hey, guys, not bad," Carol said, laughing. "How long do you think this'll last?" The girls sucked on their pacifiers, almost in unison.  "You get to open presents today. Santa came, too, you want to see what he brought? Let's see." Shifting their infant seats closer to the base of the tree, Carol kissed each one on the forehead, being careful to wipe off her lipstick afterward. "Tess, you're the oldest, so you go first. Santa left this for you." Carol unwrapped the gift she'd just wrapped the day before. "Look! Oh, look at this!" Tess' eyes were closing, much to Carol's dismay. "I'm sorry I'm boring you," she said dourly. "It's an activity gym. For when you're a bit older. You lie under it and play." Too late. Tess was asleep. "Well, I'm sure you'll like it anyway. Kate? You want to go next?"

Kate was wide-awake, staring at the lights on the tree in front of her. "Here we go. Oh, look! Santa gave you the same thing!" Carol said, laughing at her own little joke. "What a surprise!" Kate regarded her mother seriously, working vigorously at her pacifier. "Merry Christmas, honey," Carol said lovingly. "We need to get going, it'll take forever to get to your grandma's house." Kate sucked away, in no hurry to leave. Carol looked down at her baby's face. "I know. It's there, isn't it? I know, Kate. But I'm too afraid. I'm afraid to open it," she confessed to her infant.

The pacifier fell out of Kate's mouth and she began fussing until Carol put it back. "Here, here, sorry. So, you think we should? Even though Tess is sleeping?" Carol asked. Kate settled down and Carol smiled.  "I think you're braver than Mommy is." Reaching under the branches, she pulled the box out and regarded it. "It's from D. Ross," Carol whispered. "Seattle, Washington." She pressed her nail into the groove of the box, splitting the tape, pulling the top open. 

Carol searched through the shredded paper and pulled out two boxes.  "Here, this says, 'To Kate.' Let's open it." Carol tore the paper, revealing a box from The San Francisco Music Box Company and took the lid off the box. "Oh, Kate," she said tearfully. "Look." She held up a snow globe and shook it. "Look. It's beautiful." Enclosed within the glass was a scene from the "Nutcracker" ballet, which Doug knew was Carol's favorite. "Listen, sweetheart." Carol wound it and "Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies" filled their ears. The music was light and sweet. 

She opened the next box for Tess, who still slept soundly. Her music box held a different scene from the "Nutcracker" ballet, but played the same tune. "Tess, listen. This one is for you." Tears rolled down her face as she thought of him. "I'm sorry, girls," she said under her breath. "I'm sorry."

In an attempt to calm down, she tried to distract herself by picking up the torn wrapping paper and the box that had held their gifts. The box was still heavy, she noted, and she dug through the paper to find one more gift. "To Carol," it read. Closing her eyes, she fingered the perfect bow softly. "Look, Kate. There's something for me, too." She tugged at the bow and it fell away, onto her lap. After ripping the paper off, she opened the box, gingerly lifting the lid. Inside was a check from Doug and a note. 

"Dear Carol," it read. "I've been putting some money away since the summer and thought you might be able to use this for childcare when you got back to work or put it away for later. I hope the girls enjoy their presents. Merry Christmas. Doug."

She read it again and again. Turning back to the box, she lifted the gift out. It was a snow globe with a Christmas scene: A busy town with decorated trees and people milling about. Carol shook it and watched as the snow fell upon the tiny figures. She was frozen. Unable to think. Turning it over, she slowly wound it and then shook it again, inundating the village with yet another blizzard. Through her tears, she listened to the music, silently loving him still.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas.
If only in my dreams
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end