My Kind of Christmas

it’s time for me to get orders—a new assignment somewhere. I just feel like I need a little time to decide if I really want that life. I always thought I did. But lately I’ve been thinking that it might not fit with the other things I’d like to have—like a family, for instance. Jake left behind a wife and two-year-old son.”
    “But do you love flying?” she asked him.
    “I always have, but that…” His voice trailed off.
    “That’s one of the things I’m struggling with, too, Patrick. But I’ve realized that there are fewer NASCAR drivers killed than girls like me who were singing along with the radio one minute and dead the next. None of those people on commercial jets on 9/11 were taking chances. Besides, if you’re doing something you believe in and are expertly trained to do… But then, you might have to ask the woman in your life before you listen to me.”
    He just stared at her for a second. “There’s no woman.”
    “Oh,” she said.
    “And my friends call me Paddy.”
    She smiled at him. “I like that.”
    “What’s your next move, Angie?”
    She took a deep breath. “Oh, I’ll probably end up going back to medical school eventually, but not—”
    “Medical school?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You mean you’re not getting some degree in basket weaving or tennis?”
    She laughed lightly. “Nah. I’m a brainiac with limited social skills, as you can probably see.”
    He shook his head, but his mouth was still open. He hadn’t been ready for this. “You take chances, but now I think I get it. So, you’ll go back to school?”
    “Well, like you, I have to make a decision—I don’t know if I want to go back to med school. The second I said ‘doctor’ when I was about sixteen my parents were on the case—going over my classes, my major and my transcripts, my med school applications. I missed a lot of life being the perfect student. While I was recovering, I had some great docs but there was one I was close to. Dr. Temple was never in a hurry. He talked to me. It’s possible he was simply studying me, looking for signs of brain damage, but still…” She gave a shrug, then shook her head. “I’ve been fighting with my mother a lot. She wants me back in med school before too much time passes, and I’m not sure I’m ever going back. Next for me, Paddy, is a little more balance in my life. If I’ve learned anything from what happened, it’s that you shouldn’t miss opportunities to live life. It could always be your last chance. And not just if you’re a Navy pilot. It could be your last chance even if you’re just making a grocery store run.”
    “No one can make you go to medical school.”
    “I so hate to disappoint them. But I might be looking for something more.”
    “Going to become an adventurer?” he asked.
    “That’s not really what I mean. I think watching the snow fall in candlelight and cuddling a baby—those can be watershed moments, too.”
    She stood up from the bar. He stood, as well. “For today, I chased down an interesting guy—something I’ve never done before. I’ve had a nice cup of coffee, and now I’m going back outside to watch the decorating of the tree. I’m also going to try to talk my way into one of those cherry pickers, but I might have to get my uncle Jack drunk first.” Then she laughed.
    “I gave you a hard time, Angie,” he said. “Sorry.”
    “It’s okay, Paddy. You have stuff to work out, too. Big stuff, and again, I’m sorry for your loss. And,” she added with a shrug, “I’ve been told I can be a lot to take. Especially lately…”
    He grabbed her hand before she could leave. “No, you’re not,” he said. “Maybe you should have another cup of coffee.”
    She shook her head, but the look in her eyes said she was tempted.
    “You started it,” he accused.
    “Aw, I think you did, with your green eyes and that look.”
    He put his right hand against the side of her head in an affectionate gesture and suddenly time stopped. He had a strange look on his face. His fingers rubbed against a raised, hairless spot behind her ear. She had long, thick, pretty brown hair streaked with blond but there was no mistaking a scar. He pulled away from her to look into her eyes.
    “A shunt,” she said. “I don’t know why the hair doesn’t grow there, but I guess it’ll grow back someday. I think.”
    “Shunt?” The word was not completely alien to him, but he wasn’t making all the connections.
    “My brain