My Kind of Christmas

among the women. There was a little song-singing and laughing. Megan nodded off for a while—she’d been up very early for the trip. And as they neared Davis, he could feel the nervousness settling in. Certainly Megan and Lorraine pinned desperate hopes on this visit, but Angie was his main concern. He knew she must be so afraid of failing at this—more than at any other challenge she’d taken on. Looking over at her as they drove, he could see that fear weighing on her.
    But when they got to Dr. Hernandez’s office, Angie’s confidence was back. Despite the nervous pink splotches climbing up her neck, her voice was strong and confident. That’s the thing with overachievers, something he knew only too well—people always thought it was easy for them, that it was effortless, or lucky. She flushed slightly as she explained why they were there but she forced her voice, which trembled a bit, to be strong.
    Angie had told him she felt academically and intellectually strong but struggled with feeling socially awkward. He wondered if anyone else noticed her slight hesitancy when she spoke, her pinkened cheeks. She was determined, but he could tell it wasn’t easy, selling her case to the doctor’s office staff. She’d blushed a little the first time she had talked to Paddy, but it had passed so quickly he had forgotten about it. Around her friends and family, she seemed so self-assured. But in this setting, with Megan and Lorraine depending on her so thoroughly, it was clearly a struggle to keep up that appearance. He could sense in her an overpowering urge to duck and run. But she fought it valiantly.
    After a brief wait, the nurse escorted them all to an exam room and even Patrick went along—he didn’t want to miss anything. He was determined to be her extra set of eyes and ears, to pay close attention to the details. And no one questioned his presence within the group.
    She smiled in relief, comfortable when she met Dr. Hernandez. “This is Megan, the girl we spoke about,” Angie said. “And this is Mrs. Thickson, her mother, and Patrick Riordan, who brought us here, a very good friend.”
    “A pleasure,” the doctor said, nodding at them all. “Let’s get right to it. Let me have a look, Megan, and then I’ll talk to your mother about the details. Is that all right with you?”
    Megan nodded and the doctor helped her up on an exam chair that sat high off the ground.
    Angie leaned close as the doctor placed gentle fingers on the girl’s face, moving her skin around. He lifted her lower eyelid slightly with the end of a swab, asked her to smile for him, to open and close her eyes. And after just a few minutes he smiled at Megan and said, “I have some ideas, Megan. I want you to go with Sandra while your mother and I talk. Sandra will find you a magazine or you can watch TV. And, Sandra, will you please send Catherine?”
    When it was all adults in the room, he began writing and talking at the same time, explaining that it was a simple but delicate procedure to repair the eyelid, and that would prevent vision issues due to severe drying in the future. He said there would still be a scar, but nothing as severe as she had now. Because of the way he would close the wound, it wouldn’t tug or pull at her features, and it would be thin, not unsightly. Because of her youth, he thought it would be unnecessary to adjust the other side of her face at the same time so her features would be symmetrical. There would be some swelling and bruising for a while, but recovery should be uneventful. “The most important thing is this—her skin and tissue, young and elastic, will recover and heal nicely.”
    Then a woman came into the room. “Catherine will take you to her office. She can give you a detailed and itemized estimate. We’ve already discussed this and, rest assured, we’ll shave costs wherever possible. We’ll get it down as low as we can. That’s a priority. And you say you’ve already exhausted possible grants and foundations?”
    “My aunt has, yes,” Angie told him. “She’s the midwife and nurse practitioner who runs the Virgin River Clinic. She couldn’t find help for Megan anywhere, but we’re not done trying to get it done. And soon, before it gets worse. She’s a beautiful girl.”
    “My only girl,” Lorraine said. “She’s kind and smart—I want her to have every chance to succeed in life. I can’t stand the thought that something like a scar from a stupid accident would