My Kind of Christmas

whispered. “You tell me what you want. Need.”
    “I never say a word!”
    “You sigh. You moan. Your body lifts to me. You wrap yourself around me when you’re ready. You’re responsive and have a powerful language just for me.” He kissed her deeply. “For right now, for this little space in time, you belong to me and I belong to you.”
    “Does a small part of you wish, for just a second, that Christmas wouldn’t come this year?”
    He brushed back her hair. “It’s not a small part of me, honey. And it lasts all day long.”
    * * *
    Deep in the night, Patrick found himself transported to the carrier. It was predawn and the mist was rolling over the deck. He was crouched, preflighting the Hornet, kicking some tires. He’d been here in the middle of the night before but this felt strange—he was alone with the jet. No fuelers, mechanics, techs. Just Paddy and his plane—and it was eerie and quiet.
    Patrick looked up and there he was again, leaning against the jet. Jake. Grinning. He was wearing his flight suit and holding his helmet. “Hey,” he said.
    Paddy stood up to look him in the eye. “What do you have to smile about?”
    “Good to see you, too.”
    “You’re not real,” Paddy pointed out.
    Jake laughed and shook his head. “I’m as real as you want me to be, man. Listen, it’s time for you to cut me loose.”
    “Am I keeping you from something?”
    “No, I’m keeping you from something. Paddy, wake up. Do what you know you have to do.”
    “I can’t wake up.”
    “Paddy, it’s all right. Wake up.”
    “I can’t wake up. I’ll do it—just don’t worry. I’ll do it. I’ll take care of her. Don’t go yet. Tell me what it’s like.”
    “You’re kidding me, right? It’s like heaven, man, which is a miracle in itself. I was not slotted for heaven. Not as exciting as the Hornet, but I get by. Paddy, wake up and do what you have to do. Paddy, wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”
    His eyes popped open and he was looking into Angie’s large, brown eyes. She was up on her knees, looking down at him. He took a breath. “Whoa.”
    “Nightmare?” she asked him.
    He shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re going to think I’m crazy. It was Jake.”
    She dropped down so she was sitting on her heels. “You were talking to him. What did he say to you?”
    Aw, he didn’t want to tell her that! Jake wanted him to go to Marie and Daniel, to take care of his family since he couldn’t. “He kept telling me to wake up.”
    “Um, that might’ve been me. You were doing some thrashing around and mumbling. Did it look like him? Sound like him?”
    He nodded. “If it’s not weird enough to see your dead best friend in a dream, we were on the deck of a completely deserted aircraft carrier. A ghost ship. Dreams are weird.”
    “You didn’t seem scared, but you were struggling. Was it a good visit?”
    “Angie, it’s not like it really happened.”
    She gave a shrug and snuggled up next to him. “Never know,” she said. “It’s almost time to get up.”
    He pulled her closer. “I’m sorry I woke you. Sometimes I can be a real load to sleep with.”
    She giggled. “Right. Sometimes you’re nothing but trouble.”
    * * *
    They were all at the surgical center by 8:00 a.m. It took only a few minutes for Lorraine to sign all the releases and give her daughter a kiss before sending her off with a nurse to be prepared for surgery. She had barely cleared the waiting room when Dr. Hernandez came through the door. He was wearing scrubs and drying his hands on a towel.
    “I’m sure it’s been explained to you, Mrs. Thickson, that we’re going to give Megan a mild sedative now and within a half hour anesthesia will be administered. The procedure will take an hour, possibly two. It’s not complicated at all, but we don’t hurry where facial nerves are involved. You can wait here or you can go out and come back in a couple of hours. She’ll either be just coming out of surgery or waking up. There will be bandages, but they’re coming off tomorrow.”
    Lorraine nodded.
    Then he looked at Angie and said, “Will you come back with me?”
    She was a little confused. “Sure.” And she followed.
    Dr. Hernandez sat on a stool at a stainless-steel counter in front of a computer. He was typing something in. He turned toward her and gave her a smile. “So, the intel on you is that you’re very smart. So Dr. Temple tells us.”
    Her eyes grew round. “I get by,” she