My Kind of Christmas

way of Oklahoma City and on to the next part of his life. He’d propose the idea to Marie—that they could do it together. Best friends forever. An excellent concept.
    And then there was a light tapping at the cabin door. He opened it and there stood Angie, Christmas lights wrapped around her, twinkling. Her eyes were alive, her smile infectious.
    “Oh, God,” he said. “What’s this?”
    “I’m your Christmas present!” she said on a laugh. “Do you have any idea how big the battery pack has to be to do this?”
    How do you turn down a Christmas present? He snatched her against him and went after her mouth with every ounce of passion he felt inside. He didn’t stop until they were both almost freezing from standing in the open doorway.

Eight
    P atrick pulled Angie inside and held her on his lap in front of the fire, lights and all. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart. It’s bound to lead up to the lights.”
    “I had a good, productive day. It started off with a conversation with Mel about Megan’s scar. Mel isn’t sure, but she thinks it could be a fairly simple correction. Still costly, still out of their reach, but… Well, let me start with this—I mentioned Dr. Temple, my neurosurgeon, didn’t I?”
    “I think so.”
    “I had a lot of doctors, techs, nurses and therapists after my accident. It was pretty easy to get close to some of them, but he was the one I loved. I think my shunt has his initials on it.” She smiled and absently touched that place on her head. “He spent much more time with me than seemed necessary. He was the one practitioner who was never in a hurry. I’ve even stayed in touch with him a little—emailed him a few times, called him twice or so. The most wonderful man.”
    “You crushed on him,” Patrick said.
    With an impish grin, she kissed him quick on the lips. Then she said, “I would have married him in a second. He was around sixty, however. But I loved him and today I learned something about him I didn’t know. I called him for advice about how I might help Megan and I found out he gives an average of a day of every week providing neurosurgery for people who couldn’t otherwise have it—that would include the underinsured, the poor who can’t get help from Medicaid, the people who make too much money to qualify for Medicaid but can’t afford both medical benefits and food. Megan and her family fall into the underinsured category. Dr. Temple said he’d be happy to work with me on that if I would be the point man. He’s not the guy to do it, but he offered to reach out to some plastic surgeons. He gave me a list of things he thought I should look into to get this process started.
    “And guess what else? I told him about the peace corps or a similar organization and he thought it was a great idea. He said I’d learn more in humanitarian relief than anywhere else. He also said he didn’t think they’d resist my application because of a titanium rod or a shunt, as long as I’m in good health. And I’m in excellent health.”
    “I can see that,” he said with a bright smile. “You’re all lit up.”
    “Will you help me out of these lights? And my jacket? This fire is getting hot....”
    “I’d be glad to help you out of all your clothes. Stand up,” he said. He pulled on the end of the string of lights, she twirled around in front of him and, in just a minute, the lights were off. She shrugged out of her jacket and he pulled her back down on his lap.
    “We did a little decorating around the clinic and I borrowed this string of lights with the battery pack. I’m sure Mel thinks I’m going to use them in the cabin. If I had an ounce of courage, I’d have come naked, strung with lights.”
    “Thank God you didn’t. You might’ve found yourself making love on the front step. What else did you do today?”
    “Talked to my mom, for once a nice talk, had lunch with Mel and Jack, asked my aunt Brie what I should do to set up a foundation with a bank to start to fund Megan’s surgery—Brie’s a lawyer. And I went on a house call with Mel—an elderly woman back in the mountains seems to have bronchitis. It was a wonderful day. I felt so…useful.”
    “Angie, I hate to put a damper on such a great day but…there’s something you have to know.” He hesitated. “We’ve been outted. My brothers guessed we’re having a— What is it we’re having?”
    “I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess we settled on ‘fling’?”
    “It’s