“Why the hell did they call you?”

“Good to see you too, Uncle Bernie.”

Nick was greeted as he walked into his uncle’s room before he had a chance to speak. Shaking his head, he smiled as the older man groused in his bed.

Bernie settled his eyes on Nick, his clear gaze piercing the younger man. “There was no reason for them to interrupt your life to come check on me. I’m too ornery to kick off now.”

Walking over, Nick picked up the metal chair next to the wall and moved it closer to the hospital bed, making sure to avoid the multitude of wires and tubes. Sitting down, he said, “Even though they didn’t need me here, I wanted to be with you. I needed to see for myself that you were going to be all right.”

Bernie narrowed his eyes. “So, you just drop everything and come all this way?”

“You could say that.”

Bernie shifted, his eyes glazing in pain for a moment before focusing again. “Well, if you’re here, you might as well talk. Get my mind off this confounded place.”

“I’d rather hear about you and how the hell you ended up here.”

Grimacing, Bernie shook his head slightly. “Just went outside to pull a few weeds from the front and felt a stabbing pain in my chest and arm. Knew it was something but don’t remember what happened after that.”

“Your neighbor was watching out her window and saw you pitch forward. She called 9-1-1 and they got you here quickly. The cardiologist says they did a procedure that dissolved a clot…or something like that. Says it’s supposed to get your blood flowing in your coronary artery. He also says you’re doing great and he wants to get you on your feet tomorrow.”

Bernie opened his mouth then closed it without speaking. Nick watched him closely, knowing his uncle hated his incapacity. “Sounds like your neighbor saved your life.”

“Busybody,” Bernie complained. “But, you’re right. I guess now I’ll have to accept her invitation to coffee.”

Lifting his eyebrow, Nick grinned. “She’s been hitting on you?”

“Keeps asking me to come over for coffee. I turn her down…what the hell would an old Marine like me have to talk about with a nice lady?”

“So now she’s gone from a busybody to a nice lady?” Nick asked, a grin tugging at his lips. “So, which is it?”

“Both,” Bernie declared. Sighing, he admitted, “She’s a nice lady. I’m just not much of a man to sit with a china cup of coffee balancing on my knee while trying to make small-talk.”

“Maybe that’s not what I want,” came a melodious, feminine voice from the door.

Nick jerked his head around as Bernie stared over Nick’s shoulder. A petite, white-haired woman stood at the doorway wearing a flowing skirt, in multiple colors, paired with a blue blouse. A bright green scarf draped around her neck and her feet were encased in blue ballet slippers. For a second, Nick had a vision of Bayley as an elderly woman and he turned back to his uncle, grinning as he observed the light in Bernie’s eyes.

“Woman, I’m laying here buck-naked under this sheet with my chest done been cut open and you expect me to entertain?”

Stepping into the room, she stuck her hand out to Nick. “Hello. I’m Vera Higginbothom, Bernard’s neighbor.”

Nick stood quickly, shaking her hand as he said, “Are you the one who called the ambulance?” Receiving a nod, he said, “Thank you so much, Ms. Higginbothom.”

“Please,” she waved her hand dismissively. “No thanks needed, but you can call me Vera.”

“Why the hell should the boy be calling you Vera?” Bernie groused, pulling the sheet up further on his body.

Ignoring his uncle, Nick offered his chair to Vera.

“No, no. I just wanted to pop by. I slipped in even though they said only one visitor. I’ll head back out.”

“Actually, I needed to check on a friend and get some coffee. Please stay with him and I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.” Turning to his uncle, he mouthed, “Be nice.”

As he walked into the waiting room he grinned, seeing Bayley sitting at a table, perched in an uncomfortable plastic chair, bent over her laptop, the ever-present pencil tucked into her hair holding it on top of her head in a semblance of a bun. She heard him enter and searched his face before breaking into a grin.

“Your uncle must be doing all right?”

Nodding as he took the chair opposite of her, “I left because he had another visitor. His neighbor. The one who keeps asking him to coffee and, from what I can see, is definitely interested in him.”

“Oh, my,” she laughed. “How sweet.”

“Well, I hope so. He’s in there grumbling and complaining, so she might not stay long. He’s not one for open shows of emotion, but I think he likes her too.”

Leaning back in her chair, she sucked in her lips. “Can I ask you something, Nick?”

“Sure,” he agreed, knowing she had to be curious about his relationship with his uncle, but uncertain how much he felt like saying.

“Do you really hate the Christmastown Inn?”

He startled, seeing the sparkle in her eyes. Chuckling, he shook his head, never knowing what she was going to say next. “No, it’s fine. Not the place I would have chosen, but it’s growing on me. I didn’t even fuss when the elves greeted us this morning or when they served pancakes in the shape of gingerbread men.”

Clapping her hands, she said, “That was great, wasn’t it? I’ve taken so many pictures so I can remember all the details of that fabulous place.”

A few minutes later, Vera appeared in the waiting room. Nick stood and hurried over. “I hope Uncle Bernie wasn’t too rude.”

“Honey, the day Bernard stops being a grump is the day we’ll lay him to rest,” she replied, her smile wide. Patting his arm, she continued, “Don’t worry. We had a nice little chat, but I can tell he’s tired. I wanted to keep my visit short but, if you don’t mind, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“I’d like that very much,” he agreed. Seeing her eyes shift over to Bayley, he introduced the two women.

As Vera turned to leave, she looked up at Nick and said, “He may be an old cuss, but I’ve been inside his apartment. It’s bare except for two things. He’s got pictures of the days when he was a Marine and pictures of you. I figure those are the two most important things in his life, so it is so nice to meet you.”

Nick watched her leave, his breath leaving his body in a whoosh as he felt Bayley’s fingers rest lightly on his arm.

“You okay? You look a little off-kilter.”

Shaking it off, he turned to look at her, taking in her honest and open expression. “Yeah, fine. Just a little surprised I guess. I never noticed Uncle Bernie taking pictures.”

The afternoon sun peeked through the leaves as the Little Pigeon River rushed over the rocks below.

While Bernard rested in the afternoon, Nick drove Bayley up a winding mountain road. Stopping just outside of Gatlinburg, they wandered along a path near the river. Thick trees lined their walk and the sunlight sprinkled down between the leaves.

“This is so gorgeous,” Bayley said, inhaling the clean, mountain air deeply. Lifting her face to the sky, she closed her eyes as the sun warmed her skin. Smiling, she said, “It must have been heaven living here.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she dropped her eyes back to Nick. “Oh, Nick. I’m sorry. That was so insensitive of me.”

Having been entranced by the sunlight on her face, Nick was slow to realize what she had asked. The topic he usually steered away from no longer seemed too painful to share with her. Shrugging, he said, “What do you already know?”

Confessing, she said, “I found your photo album in your guest room the other night. I looked at your childhood pictures with your parents and, then, they just stopped. I…well, I wondered.”

Linking fingers with her, they wandered along the path a little further until finding a large, flat bolder overlooking the river. Sitting, he pulled her down next to him, the stone underneath warm from the sun. The woods surrounding the river were thick with foliage, the sound of birds chirping filling the air as well as the rustling of small, woodland creatures in the leaves. The air was crisp and clean, scented by the pines growing nearby.

Nick was silent a moment, his mind rolling through the events of his childhood, something he had not talked about in a long time. Bayley gently rubbed her fingers over his arm, the soothing motion giving ease to his tangled thoughts.

Clearing his throat, he said, “There’s really not a lot to tell, Bayley. I grew up on the outskirts of Knoxville, not too far from here. My parents were young when they had me, but by the time I was about six years old, all my grandparents had died. Both of my parents were only children so I had no aunts, uncles, or cousins. My dad had an uncle though, Bernie, and he was a career Marine. We only saw him when he was between tours. There was nothing bad about my childhood. It was really good, actually. I had friends and a good life, until it all went to shit one night.”

The silence settled over the two of them again before he sucked in a deep breath and continued. “My parents were killed in a car accident. Uncle Bernie was at the funeral and afterwards, I overheard him talking with a woman, who I later understood was a social worker, but at the time I had no idea who she was.”

“And they were discussing your situation, weren’t they?” Bayley asked softly.

Nodding, he said, “After they talked, they came over and told me that I’d be placed with a nice family to live.”

Gasping, Bayley’s eyes widened as her fingers stopped their gentle touch and grabbed his arm instead. “Oh, my God, Nick. I am so sorry.”

Shaking his head, he smiled ruefully. “I was lucky…had a great foster family. I had no idea what to expect, but they were really good to me.”

“Were you disappointed that you couldn’t live with Bernie?”

“No, not at all. At that age, I had no expectations, but then to be honest, I don’t remember much about that time. Bernie was a Marine and had been one for twenty-eight years at that time. He was stationed overseas and came home for the funeral. He’d planned on retiring after thirty years in. I saw him rarely…didn’t really know him. When I was older and knew how the foster system worked, I knew there was no choice since Bernie was a bachelor, never been married or around children, so the only decision at the time would be for me to be placed in a foster home.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Nick continued, “It was weird for me because the Griffey’s…that’s the foster family, had two kids of their own and two other foster kids. So, we were a big group of seven around the dinner table. My parents had been quiet people and I was too. I admit, I was overwhelmed most of the time in the foster home, having never been around a family that size. But they were good people. They had me in counseling to deal with my parents’ death, and that really helped a lot, actually, but I’m not sure I ever got over the feeling that life can change instantly.”

“What about Bernie? He came back into the picture, right?”

“He retired two years later, after his thirty years in the Corps, and moved back to the Knoxville area, settling in Sevier County. He got a job working in a home improvement store—loved working with his hands. He came to visit me at the foster home and something happened—”

“What?” she interrupted, eyes wide. “What happened?”

“The next month, the social worker came to tell my foster parents that I would be moving in with my great-uncle. She said he had a house, steady job and, as next of kin, he would be taking me with him.”

“Wow,” Bayley breathed, her mind filled with thoughts of young Nick and how his world had changed so drastically as a child, barely getting used to one situation before another one came along.

“I think it just hit him when he saw me there. When he’d been overseas with the Marines, he could pretend all back home was the same. He was used to my parents’ quiet home, me being independent and thoughtful. He was a loner, too, when he wasn’t with his fellow Marines. I remember him visiting me at the Griffey’s house, sitting on the living room sofa, and the other kids playing in the next room, making noise like kids do. It was chaotic. Toys on the floor. Bikes on the lawn. People moving in and out of the room. Just a big, noisy family.”

Bayley loosened her grip and began to rub his arm again, listening intently.

“So,” he shrugged, “from the age of ten, it was me and Uncle Bernie.”

“How was that?”

Chuckling, he admitted, “At first, I was concerned. I only knew him from his visits when my parents were still alive, but in some ways, living with him was also familiar. I realized later, how nice it was to be around someone who knew mom and dad. Bernie wasn’t much of a talker, so our lives were rather quiet, which reminded me of my parents’ household. It was good…different, but good. But it was a huge change from the foster family, which I had started to become accustomed to. I went to school and Bernie worked an early shift so he got home about the same time I did. I did homework and he puttered in his garage or workshop. We’d have supper and watch the news and then whatever sports were on. But he’d tell me stories about my dad when he was little and things that he remembered about my mom and grandparents. I’ve come to realize how much those stories meant to me…they were my connection to my family that I would have lost if not for Bernie.”

“No toys on the floor?” she asked, gently.

Shaking his head, he smiled. “Thirty years in the Marines and Bernie liked his order.” Shrugging slightly, he added, “But it’s all good. After living with the Griffey’s, I liked order too. I liked having my own toys and had no problem putting them away at the end of the day. Guess I kind of adopted that into my own lifestyle, huh?” he chuckled.

Bayley grinned as she leaned back on her hands. “Blaise was always so neat. So was my dad. I think I take after my mom, who’s kind of a free spirit.”

Shoulder bumping her, he agreed, “Oh, yeah, you’re a free spirit.”

They sat in companionable silence for a moment before she prodded, “There were no more pictures in your album until your high school graduation, and you seemed so much more . . . intense, I guess, by then.”

Nodding, he said, “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just grew up, that’s all. And Uncle Bernie wasn’t much into documenting anything. Mom was always the one running around with a camera. I don’t know—without Mom and Dad, I didn’t really want pictures either.”

Feeling her heart break for him, tears stung her eyes. He looked over, surprised at the emotion overflowing. Reaching up, he caught a tear falling down her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t cry for me, Bayley. I’m not the only person in the world who had an unconventional childhood and mine was certainly not without happiness.”

“I know, but I feel like you were adrift on a boat in the middle of storm-laden seas and needed an anchor, but no one really provided that for you.”

“Wow,” he said as a feeling of warmth slid over him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone describe a childhood like that and certainly not about me.”

“Don’t make fun of me when I’m emotional,” she said, playfully slapping his arm. After another moment of thoughtful reflection, she asked, “Things seem good between you and your great uncle…”

“I knew him as a hard-ass Marine from my earliest memories, so I never expected anything else. He wasn’t a touchy feely guy, never has been. But when I was living with him, he really made an effort to be involved in my life. He went to school functions, games I was playing in, even helped coach baseball one year. I also think that he was probably more at ease with me as I got older, since he’d never spent much time with kids. The older I got, the more we had things to talk about. I graduated a year early from high school and, back then, with guardian approval, I could join the military at seventeen with a high school diploma.”

“I didn’t know you were in the military.”

“I wasn’t. At the last minute, I realized I was about to sign just because I had no idea what else to do. So, I went to college instead, got my degree and went to the FBI academy. Been an agent ever since.”

“Was Bernie okay with you not becoming a Marine?”

“Oh, yeah. He always said I needed to do what was right for me. But no one knows what that is when they’re seventeen.” Hearing her slight giggle, he asked, “Okay, what did you want to be at seventeen?”

“Lots of things—I wanted to join the Peace Corps and save the world. But then I also thought it would be fun to be in the roller-derby.”

At that, Nick snorted, eliciting another playful giggle from her. After a moment, she asked, hesitantly, “I was wondering about the medallion around your neck. Is there a special meaning behind it?”

Nick’s hand automatically reached up, feeling the pendant lying against his chest, near his heart. “When I was born, my dad bought a St. Nicholas pendant for my mother to have. It seemed fitting with my birthday, after all.” Seeing her head tilt as she waited for him to continue, he explained, “My birthday is December 25.”

“Oh, my God, you’re a Christmas baby!”

Nodding, he said, “Yep. Kind of sucked when I was little, but my parents always made sure that we had Christmas presents that morning and then that evening, we had my birthday celebration.”

They sat quietly for a moment as Nick stared at the water below rushing by. Sighing, he plunged ahead. “I told you my parents were killed in a car accident. They were killed on Christmas Eve. At the hospital, a nurse had taken the necklace off my mother and handed it to me. I slipped it around my neck and have rarely been without it.”

Tears stung Bayley’s eyes as her heart ached for the little-boy Nick who had to live through such tragic circumstances.

“I once did some research on St. Nicholas,” Nick admitted. “It seems that he lived in the third century and, strangely enough, his parents died when he was young. And he was raised by his uncle.”

“No way,” she breathed, her eyes wide.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?”

After another minute of silence while his tale settled over them, he admitted, “I don’t get down here to see him much, and I feel really bad about that. We do talk on the phone every week…like I said, the older I got, the closer we became. He moved out of his house about three years ago and into an independent-living facility. He’s got his own apartment, where he still cooks, but takes some of his meals in the cafeteria. They help with cleaning, but after all those years as a Marine, he keeps his place in top-shape.”

The memory of Nick’s neat habits now made even more sense as Bayley quietly listened. “What will happen now? Now that he needs help.”

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know. I’ll have to get that figured out.”

“Maybe Vera can help?”

Catching the twinkle in her eyes, he smiled.