Promises in Paradise

“Look, you’re going to have to go to him.”

Diane frowned. “Why?”

“There’s a party goin’ on, and he’s not about to leave right now. We got Santa and everything.”

Diane laughed in understanding. “Okay. Lead the way.”

She took only her stethoscope with her as she followed Ron. There was music and a lot of loud conversation coming from a space at the end of a corridor. The noise from the other end only got louder as they approached. There was a room to the left that turned out to be the communal dining hall.

At the back of the room, near the door, the adults stood or sat watching the excitement of perhaps fifty children and adolescents at the front of the room as they waited to meet with Santa Claus and receive a gift.

Diane couldn’t help but smile at the cheerful chaos as kids roughhoused together, or shouted to be next, or played with gifts already opened, or sat staring dumbfounded at the man at the center of attention, Santa Claus.

She began to chuckle when she realized he was the tallest, thinnest Santa she’d ever seen. Not that that mattered to the kids. He was seated in a chair raised on an improvised platform. For all their hardships and deprivations, the children clearly believed in this Santa who’d made a special trip from the North Pole just to see them.

“That’s Qa’Shawn over there. The kid jumping up and down. I told him not to do that,” Ron said, worried.

“That’s actually a good sign.”

“Well, let me go get him. I told him someone special wanted to meet him ‘cause he passed out yesterday. He thinks he did something special,” he said, bemused.

Diane found a little spot by herself out of the way of the celebration. It was a moment before she became aware that Santa appeared to be sending covert glances at her. But then he went back to being jolly and attentive to the kids. They seemed to find it pretty cool that he was a black Santa behind the snow-white beard. He cast her another long look and then ignored her.

“Qa’Shawn, this is Dr. Diane. I told you about her. Say hello.” Ron gave the youngster a light nudge.

“Hello,” the boy murmured.

He was maybe nine years old.

“Hi, Qa’Shawn.” Diane smiled at him.

“You a doctor for real?”

“I am.” She held out her stethoscope. “See.”

“I know what that is. You listen to a heart with that. Can I try it?”

Diane placed the ear tips of the headset lightly into his ears and then put the diaphragm against the boy’s chest. After just a few seconds his eyes grew wide.

“I hear noise in there. Is that my heart?”

“Hope so,” Ron said. “If you don’t hear anything you’re in deep trouble.”

But the boy was too fascinated with the sounds coming through the instrument to try and figure out Ron’s macabre joke.

“Can I listen, too?” Diane asked.

Qa’Shawn relinguished the headset to her. Diane put it to her own ears and listened, using the tunable diaphragm to make adjustments. After a minute Diane removed the headset, looping the stethoscope around her neck. She grinned at Qa’Shawn. “Sounds like a lot of rushing water to me.”

The boy laughed but was already getting antsy to get away.

“I don’t want to keep you from Santa. Nice meeting you, Qa’Shawn.”

He shouted goodbye and took off like a shot.

“Well?” Ron asked in a quiet voice.

“I hear a murmur. Could mean his heartbeat’s a little irregular. It’s not unusual and it’s not normally dangerous, but I’d like to see Qa’Shawn at the hospital.”

Ron frowned. “Not tonight.”

“No, it can wait until after the holidays, but I’d like to run some tests to see what we’re dealing with.”

Ron nodded solemnly. “I’ll make sure it happens. Anyway, if we try to pull him away before Hale finishes his Santa act…”

“Hale?” she asked faintly.

“Yeah. Hale Cameron. Good buddy of mine. I had to beg big-time to get him here, and threaten him if he didn’t wear the suit. I can’t help that it’s too big.”

Diane had already turned her attention back to the front of the room where Hale, unrecognizable under the Santa garb, was acting the part and talking the talk and keeping a lot of children very entertained. Except for those few moments when he was distracted by her presence, Hale was all about the business of being Santa Claus.

“He owed me a favor and I called it in,” Ron continued. “But he would have done it in the end. I just had to work on him a bit.” Ron laughed. “I want you to meet him.”

At that Diane headed out of the room, back to Ron’s office. “Some other time. He’s busy and I should be going.”

“Well, I’m not going to keep you. You’re probably on your way to a party right now.”

Not, Diane thought to herself.

They’d almost reached Ron’s office when he was called aside by a resident complaining that someone had stolen his sneakers and backpack. Ron had to deal with it. Diane quickly got her coat and bag. Running into Hale Cameron twice in as many weeks was starting to make her feel cursed. Before she got to the door, her BlackBerry silently signaled there were messages once she was back to the hospital.

Her position didn’t allow her to ignore them. Perching on the edge of Ron’s desk, Diane scrolled through her e-mails and text messages. Fortunately, there was no emergency, just several colleagues wishing her a happy holiday and friends inviting her to join them for drinks. There was another invitation to yet another party, and a request for the name of a particular doctor.

Totally wrapped up in responding, she paid no attention to the voices and conversation in the hallway. Diane was just finishing her last post when one voice stood out distinctly from the rest. She was instantly spurred into action, and she scrambled to grab her things and get away. The door was ajar and she put her hand out to pull it open. It was pushed from the other side, forcing her to step back quickly.

Santa Claus filled the doorway.

Silently, her heart palpitating with a fight-or-flight reflex, Diane stared at the man behind the guise. For a very long moment neither said anything and it was impossible for her to tell what was going through Hale’s mind since she couldn’t see all of his face or much of his eyes. She also made the quick observation of how funny he looked behind the fake snow-white beard.

Standing so close in front of him, she could smell the storage chemicals on the rented Santa suit and she could smell Hale’s cologne or aftershave. Plus a little bit of male heat.

“’Scuse me,” she murmured, not looking into his face as she tried to slide past him through the doorway.

“No problem,” he murmured back.

“Don’t move! Perfect! Man, I couldn’t plan this.”

Curious, Diane looked at Ron. He pointed to the door frame over her and Hale’s head. He looked up, too. The evergreen bouquet was fixed and ready. Ron burst out into loud, satisfied laughter.