A Christmas Carnal

"So what happened?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

"Oh, God, Josh! I don't know!" she virtually whimpered. "She was up here and I was over there, feeding the goats and all of sudden there was this huge Crash! and I spun around and saw a bunch of tools falling off the wall and Sharon going down. I ran over to her and she was lying there grabbing her leg and there was blood spurting out everywhere. She sort of yelled, 'Get help!' and kept trying to hold her leg. I ran for you guys."

I nodded and walked over to the wall. There was a rack that had held the scythe, and a couple of others, plus some handsaws and big circular blades, as well as a bunch of other sharp stuff like pitchforks and so on. One end of it had torn out of the support post where it had been nailed. In my mind, I could see it collapsing and the scythe falling onto Sharon, slicing her leg. Really, really ugly. I heard Paul's voice behind me.

"Josh, I've gotta go wash up," he said. "You probably want to go with her to the hospital. They'll allow one family member, and you'll probably deal with it better than Miriam, and Ashley and I can take care of Miriam." I nodded and turned to him.

"You are a lifesaver, Paul, and I owe you one. A really big one. Collect anytime." He tried to shrug it off, but I wouldn't let him. "You're a fucking hero, man," I told him. "Just accept it. I'm going to go get out the sled for the snowmobile. We can use it to get her to the chopper."

"Okay, take care," he told me. "Let us know what happens." I agreed and went to look for the sled.

I was done hitching it up about the time the EMTs were ready to go. I offered the sled and the rescue crew accepted. Sharon was barely conscious. I told her I was going with, then went and hugged and kissed Miriam goodbye. I promised to call them.

Helicopters are practical, not comfortable. As we lifted off, I saw Paul, Miriam and Ashley taking the vehicles back and putting them away. The thirty to forty minute flight was smooth, but noisy and the seating was hard. I did learn that the chopper and crew were based out of Minot AFB and happened to be at CHI Mercy because of another delivery, the victim of a snowmobile accident.

When we got there, Sharon was taken straight to Emergency and I got her personal effects delivered to me, which happened to include her wallet. Always practical, she carried a wallet like a guy, no purse. It had her driver's license and insurance card and such, and I was able to deal with the administrivia while they were working on her. She wasn't able to sign the consent forms and stuff, so I did it, then went to spend a miserable three hours in the miserable waiting room, drinking several miserable cups of coffee.

The nurses were trying to be cheerful, but for fuck's sake! It was Christmas! How cheerful could you be, working in an ER instead of spending it with your family? I felt the old resentments, the depression I promised Sharon was never coming back, creeping back in, bathing the corners of my mind in shadows and making me wonder if there was a bar open somewhere on Christmas. Or a taxi to get me there.

Eventually, an orderly came to get me and gave me the room number they'd put her in. I went and found it, and waited patiently while the bustle of getting her set up wound down and I wasn't in anyone's way. Then I got to see her.

I walked in and she looked horrible. She had an IV in and oxygen, and all kinds of monitors wired up, and her skin was almost grey. I walked over to the bedside and touched her hand. Her eyes fluttered open a little and she gave me a thin smile.

"Merry Christmas, Josh!" she told me softly, and I had to think she'd finally lost it.

"What's Merry about it?" I asked. "You look like shit."

"I'm alive," she almost whispered. "That's your present. Don't give it back. And I think I look better than shit."

I leaned down to kiss her forehead and the tears started. Two or three actually splashed onto her before I realized it and stood up.

"Don't try drowning me, too," she chided me in that scary weak voice. "Cut is bad enough."

I was going to make a snide comeback when a doctor walked in. He introduced himself as Dr. Lasser, the trauma surgeon, and checked on Sharon. Then he gave me a rundown on the injury, the relatively large amount of sewing things back together they'd done, and that they wouldn't know what kind of recovery time they were looking at until tomorrow. They were going to keep her sedated and on pain meds, so I might as well go home for the night.

I told him that wasn't going to happen, even if I could get home, and he pointed out the chair/bed thing in the corner.

"At least get a good meal and some decent coffee," he told me, noticing my vending machine cup.

"On Christmas?" I scoffed. "Where?"

"Grandma's Table," he told me seriously. "She's open on Christmas for folk like us, stuck working or otherwise stranded. She's three blocks south and the walks have been shoveled. She's open until 11pm. You could bring me back a sandwich."

I raised an eyebrow at that last bit and he laughed. "Just kidding," he told me. "Tell the guard who you are and why you're here on the way out. You can come back here to nap. She isn't going anywhere and we'll take good care of her."

I thanked him and headed out to find the restaurant.

* * * * *

Wednesday -- Christmas Night

It was near midnight and I was lying on the folded out chair/bed thing, listening the rhythmic hospital bleeping and smelling the disinfectant. The nurse had given me a pillow and a blanket, and I was just lying there, watching Sharon. She was out of it and I figured I was supposed to be, too. I just didn't want to be...

I'd found Grandma's and gotten a really good turkey dinner. The doctor had been right and I saw other hospital personnel there. I'd called Miriam and told her what I knew, and that I'd know more tomorrow. She was relieved Sharon was out of danger but still upset that it had to happen on Christmas. I didn't blame her.

I pointed out that if it hadn't been Christmas, we all might not have been there and Sharon could have bled to death all alone. That thought sobered all of us up. She, Ashley and Paul were going to take care of the house and the animals -- at least, they wouldn't starve to death -- until Sharon could come home.

I'd thanked Paul again for saving my sister's life, and I'd told them all I would try to get some sleep.

Try being the operative word. I wasn't doing too well. Enter the angel of mercy.

Just after midnight, after the shift change, a different doctor came to check on Sharon. I guess technically she was a resident, but it didn't matter. She checked on Sharon and looked pleased. She checked on me and didn't. I guess I looked as much of a wreck as Sharon did.

I told the Doc I wasn't going to be able to sleep, with my mind going ninety miles an hour, worried about my sister, and she told me she'd fix that. A few minutes after she left, a nurse showed up with two pills and a diet soda, compliments of the doctor. I took the pills, they worked, and I slept.

* * * * *

Thursday/Friday

The next two days were kind of a blur. I awoke to the morning crew coming in, bubbling over with their Holiday Happiness energized by family get-togethers and the like. It just made my mood more foul.

Sharon was awake, although a little looped on the pain meds. She mostly confirmed what Ashley had said, that she was standing by the wall, getting a pitchfork to muck out the pens, when the whole rack collapsed and she'd been sliced. Just a freak accident. She did start to get irritated at my cynical and, well, angry comments and told me I should go home.

I pointed out I couldn't until the roads were clear so she was stuck with me. She suggested I go Christmas shopping, for when she got out, and that actually sounded like a good idea. The entire nursing staff agreed, so I guess I was being a bigger pain in the ass than I realized. So I spent some time looking around for simple things for her and for the others. I made Grandma's Table my regular stop for meals and always over tipped.

Dr. Orlitz, Sharon's regular physician, and Dr. Lasser, the trauma surgeon, both stopped in to check on her. Both were surprised at how well she was healing. They conferred and decided that if she continued to heal this quickly, she could go home as early as Saturday. Dr. Lasser explained how they'd used dissolving sutures for the deeper repairs and a combination of staples and sutures on the surface. Sharon would have to come back to get the staples out in about ten days, and she'd be very restricted as far as physical activity went, but otherwise was going to be fine.

Friday afternoon, Dr. Orlitz told me he'd be by in the morning to check on her, but barring any unforeseen complications, he expected to discharge her. He told me he'd been watching the road conditions and that the highway to our farm should be cleared before Saturday morning. I thanked him and called Miriam.

She agreed that she, Ashley and Paul would bring in Sharon's truck Saturday morning. The three of them wanted a shot at Christmas shopping before we went home. I told her to bring a change of clothes for Sharon, since the others were ruined. Sharon had dictated a small list of presents she wanted me to get for the others. She didn't say anything about me, and she wouldn't tell me, either. A surprise, she said.

I sat and watched her, mostly. She was tired and medicated a lot, and I wasn't going to push it. She was lucid some of the time and somehow she managed to be upbeat, claiming her surviving meant we broke the curse and how everything was going to be fine. Part of me wanted to be swept away by her optimism. Part of me still wanted to be pissed at God. Mostly, I just wanted her to be happy and healthy.

* * * * *

Saturday

Saturday morning, Miriam, Paul and Ashley got to the hospital early and checked in with me, since visiting hours hadn't started, yet. Since Dr. Orlitz wasn't going to be there until around noon, I decided to join the three of them on a shopping jaunt. They grabbed coffee and I grabbed breakfast at Grandma's, and then we hit the stores. Miriam picked up discount wrapping paper and the whole shebang. We were back at the hospital by 11am and the staff bent the two visitor rule to let Paul and Ashley join Miriam and me in the room.

Miriam was actually crying when she hugged and kissed Sharon, who was looking a hell of a lot better, and Ashley was pretty close. I pulled Paul aside while the girls talked and thanked him again for saving my sister's life. Dr. Lasser had explained how a cut to the femoral artery was potentially very lethal, and how Paul's skillful use of the tourniquet and bandaging had bought the time necessary to get her to the ER and get the hemorrhaging stopped. Paul just took it in stride, like he was just doing his job.

I was really starting to like the prick, despite his attitude.

Dr. Orlitz okayed Sharon's release, making sure she had crutches, and suggesting we get a walker or multi-tipped cane. Sharon said she had Grandma's walker from when she broke her hip, and we stopped by the hospital shop on the way out and bought a cane. He gave her a list of post-op things she needed to do, and not do, and by 2pm she was being wheeled down to her truck.

I drove, with Sharon in front, her leg stretched out in front of her. The other three rode in back. We were back to the farm by three-thirty and had Sharon safely ensconced in an easy chair in the living room, near the tree, by four. At Miriam's insistence, everybody scattered to wrap presents. Sher recruited me to do the presents for Miriam, Paul and Ashley, and then got Paul to help her with mine. I figured out why she picked him, and not Miriam, later.

Miriam had put the hams in the slow cooker before they'd left to come in, and had put them on keep-warm when we'd returned. Now she, Paul and Ashley busied themselves with putting together our belated Christmas dinner. I played Fetch with Sher and sat and talked with her. We talked about the immediate future, and that she'd need some help with the farm until she was healed enough to resume her schedule. She told me there was a farm up the road a piece with a brother and sister still in high school. She thought she might pay them to come handle chores. Or maybe take on a hired hand who could also do some of the repairs and improvements she wanted done.

All of which got me thinking. I had a decision to make. But I needed to make sure I got it right.

Miriam called us to dinner and Paul and I helped Sharon get settled at the table. Sharon insisted on saying grace, where she thanked the Lord for the food, our health, and especially the family and good friends who'd made sure she was alive to say grace. We stuffed ourselves with the bounty of Sharon's larder, augmented by some vittles Miriam picked up in town. And when we didn't even have room for dessert, Miriam announced that we would be taking a break from our feast to open presents, then come back to demolish the hot apple pie and ice cream.

We adjourned to the living room, getting Sher settled back in her chair, and then Miriam orchestrated the opening of presents, going from youngest, Ashley, to oldest, Sher. The presents were thoughtful and not overly expensive, like gifts of appreciation. When we got to me, my present from Sher was missing.

"I'm saving it for last, Josh," she smiled. "Just go ahead and finish up."

I did and then it was her turn. Again, thoughtful and not expensive. Well, maybe one of mine to Sharon was a little overboard. A white diamond pendant surrounded by amethysts. It looked good on her. I got the "you shouldn't have" lecture, as expected. She got the "oh, yes, I should have" lecture back from me. Then she handed me my present. A small box, in simple wrapping.

When I opened it, I found myself looking at a large flip-type box like you'd use for jewelry. Opening that, my heart went to my throat. Two beautiful, simple white gold bands I'd seen before. They were Grandma and Grandpa's wedding rings. I looked up at Sharon, confused.

"I thought you should have them, Josh," Sher told me softly. "Theirs was a pure love, like yours is."

I didn't say anything. Actually, I couldn't say anything. But I did take out Grandpa's band and slip it on my left-hand ring finger. It fit. Which made up my mind.

I got up and took Grandma's ring over to Sher and while she looked on, very confused, I slipped Grandma's band onto her left-hand ring finger. And it fit.

I was pretty choked up, but I managed to say, "that's where that one belongs..."

She didn't say anything. I suspect it was because like me, she couldn't. I leaned down and gently kissed her and she kissed me back, gently at first, then stronger, until she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into a liplock for the ages. I knew the decision I had to make had been made. I just had to wait until Monday.

We finished the evening with dessert, and a toast of Sher's sweet cherry wine, put up several years back. And afterwards, Paul helped me get Sharon up the stairs and into bed. He and the girls left, to do whatever they were going to do, and I undressed and joined Sharon in bed.

"I can't fuck, Josh," she told me as I slid in. "Sorry."

"I know," I told her as I carefully gathered her in my arms. "But we can snuggle. As long as your leg is supported and you're not in too much pain."

"I took a couple of Doc's pain pills with the wine," she told me. "Right now, I'm not feeling much of anything. Except you and your delicious body. By the way, Josh, you surprised me with putting on the rings. I only meant them as a symbol of your incredible love."

"Sher, I know we can't legally marry," I told her, "so I can't make the offer I'd really like to make. But you can consider that a symbol of my bond to you. I'll never stop loving you, Sis. You can take that to the bank."

"And I'll never stop loving you, Josh," she told me, turning slightly so her back was to me. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I echoed and kissed the back of her neck. Minutes later, I'd drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

Sunday/Monday

Sunday passed in dull routine. I joined Ashley in doing the chores, then Paul helped me clear more of the drive and the aprons in front of the barns. Miriam made up a shopping list for the next run to town and Sharon crabbed, complained, bitched and moaned about not being able to do anything and feeling completely useless.

Everybody appreciated my other present to Sharon, which was one of those K-cup machines that could do from a cup up to a carafe and had a big water reservoir. Late morning, after making sure Sharon was resting comfortably and had a fully charged cell phone next to her, Paul and I took Miriam and Ashley for a snowmobile ride, out running around the property. Miriam and I basically showed it off, and Paul and Ashley were impressed, even after we explained that it looked better when it wasn't under a blanket of snow. In the afternoon, Miriam dragged out some of the old parlor games we'd had as kids and the five of us got into playing board games and cards and stuff.

Sunday evening was a simple soup and sandwiches and leftovers meal, and more chatting. This time, Sharon wanted to move to the parlor and the fireplace, which we all thought an excellent idea, and we spent the evening just relaxing in each other's company before Sharon was helped back to bed and I joined her. It was another low-key night of snuggling while I contemplated the phone call I needed to make in the morning.

Monday morning dawned bright and clear, the brilliance of the snow reflecting like a bunch of halogen lamps strung around the property. The temperature was coming up, and we'd probably get some thaw, but for now, the middle of North Dakota looked like New England Currier and Ives. I borrowed Sharon's office to call my boss.

"Good morning, Josh!" he greeted my call. "You sound happy... and sober... what's up?"

"Tony, I really hate to do this to you and... I'm tendering my resignation. Family issues have made me realize I need to be with my sister Sharon, so I'll have to move back here to Devils Lake. I'll work with whatever transition team you want, to turn over my in-flight projects, but it will have to be over the phone for the next couple of months because I can't leave here." There were several seconds of silence on the other end when I stopped talking.

"Josh..." his carefully controlled voice came back. "What happened?"

"I came to see my sister for the holidays, instead of getting drunk. She had a life-threatening accident and is recovering. She needs me here. More importantly, I need to be here. Personal things are starting to come together and I don't want to lose any progress."

"Okay, Josh, for starters," Tony told me and I felt him shifting into negotiating mode, "how about you don't quit? Take a couple of months paid Leave of Absence and take care of Sharon. I'll square it with H-R. And consider carefully what I'm going to say next."

"Okay..." I drawled, curious.

"You can get to an airport from there, right?" he asked. "You're somewhere near Fargo or Bismarck or something?"

"Depends on your definition of 'near', Tony," I told him. "But, yeah, there's an airport in Devils Lake."

"Okay," he went on, "what if you were to telecommute? Work from home, except home will be your sister's place. Most of your projects recently have been remote access, anyway. For the few times you'd need to travel, we could work it out. I'd probably want to see you down here maybe a couple days every couple of months, and if you're Skype-capable, we could use that as well."