Free The Christmas Lamp by Lori Copeland Page B

Nadine shook her head. “I’ve never heard the likes. They haven’t changed the Christmas Eve ser vice, have they?”
    Roni sent another censuring look. “Of course the Christmas Eve ser vice is still on.”
    “Just wondered. I thought Brisco might have decided to cancel that too.”
    “Don’t be absurd. He has nothing to do with the church program.”
    “It’s a good thing, or else — ”
    Roni rudely closed the door behind her and blocked Nadine’s complaint. A cold wind swept the pavement, skipping leaves along the sidewalk.
    Crossing the street, she caught sight of the China Wok. Mr. Wong had set a small, but gaily decorated tree outside the establishment. At least he’d caught the spirit. The holiday reminder drew Roni. Though it was barely eleven o’clock in the morning, she suddenly craved sweet and sour chicken.
    She entered the welcoming restaurant on a gust of wind. Mr. Wong glanced up from behind the counter and broke into a grin. “Senorita Roni!”
    Spanish today, Roni noted. “Are you serving yet, Mr. Wong?”
    “Si. Sit.” He motioned to the rows of empty tables, each with a festive poinsettia sitting in the middle.
    Roni picked the one closest to the window, where she could stare at the twinkling tree. Outside, the wind blew power lines in a frantic dance. Inside the restaurant, Christmas carols floated softly over the speakers. Other than the night that she and Jake had eaten beside Lake Tanycomo, she hadn’t felt so festive this season.
    Focusing on the flashing lights, she sipped the hot tea Mr. Wong brought. The steamy liquid warmed her insides.
    She sat up straighter when she saw Jake leave the city office in a big hurry. Still pulling his jacket on, he strode to his car and the lights blinked when he hit the unlock button.
    “Mr. Wong!”
    The owner peered around the kitchen doorway. “Si?”
    “I’ll be right back.”
    “Okay by me, pilgrim.” He disappeared around the corner.
    Roni realized that she should have worn her coat as she crossed the street. Jake was pulling out of the parking spot in front of the office. She waved him down.
    “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
    “I just got a call from St. John’s Hospital. Grandma’s taken ill, and they’ve transported her to Springfield.”
    “When?”
    “Evidently several hours ago. My cell had been on the charger.”
    “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    “Ride to Springfield with me.”
    It only took seconds for Roni to go back for her coat and purse, and to cancel her order.
    “Oh — and Mr. Wong?”
    “Si?”
    “Would you please deliver a large Dr Pepper with extra ice to Judy?”
    He nodded agreeably. “I’ll mosey right over.”
    Roni paid him and then put on her coat and left. Moments later the silver Acura sped away.

    St. John’s hospital complex commanded most of the corner of National Avenue and Cherokee Street. Roni recalled how when she was a child she loved to visit the facility and see the nuns dressed in black, their gowns whispering down the silent corridors. Once, a sister had taken Roni into her office and written on a small card, God bless Ronda Lucille Elliot . That card was still tacked to her bedroom wall. When life got tough, Roni would look at the message and remember the sister’s kind face, and feel better.
    Mary was still in the emergency room when they got there, but she was resting comfortably. The doctor told Jake that his grandmother had a mild cardiac episode. Serious, but not critical. From her cubicle, Mary gave Jake a smile and a “thumbs-up” sign.
    Soon after their arrival she was moved to a private room. The doctor could say little more than that she was aging and the heart condition was persistent.
    They stood in the hallway until the nurses left and gave them permission to visit her. Roni trailed Jake into the room where the small, frail-looking woman lay on the bed.
    “Comfortable?” Jake asked softly.
    “Jake? Are you still here?”
    Roni slipped quietly