Paige's Miracle

Chapter 3

THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS, Paige felt sluggish and achy. She'd been working long hours and odd shifts so she could take Jason for his various doctors' appointments. She had her checkbook, her phone and a pile of bills in front of her. Her bank balance had been teetering on the brink of overdraft for weeks now, but with the extra hours she'd worked, she'd been able to keep it in the black.

She slid another bill toward her. She paid it through the automated phone system and checked her balance—precariously close to zero. She would definitely be dipping into overdraft this week, and she'd barely done any Christmas shopping. Between work and taking care of Jason, Paige had only been able to buy him one gift so far. She'd wait until Jason lay down for his nap and call Mrs. Bennett to watch him for a while. That way she could slip out for a couple of hours and do some shopping.

She glanced up when Jason walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his pale-blue pajamas, adorned with the characters from his favorite cartoon. He had furry dog slippers on his feet and his teddy tucked under his arm. He was dragging his legs, a sure sign that he was tired.

Paige got up and went to him. Crouching down, she could see the sheen of perspiration on his face. She touched his forehead lightly, checking his temperature. He had a slight fever.

"Let's get you some juice before your nap, okay?"

He nodded sadly.

She poured him a small glass of orange juice, and she held his teddy while he drank it. Ill as he was, he still shuffled over to the sink and put his empty glass in it before reclaiming his teddy. With Paige's hand on his shoulder, they walked to his bedroom.

Paige tucked him in and lowered his blinds. She sat with him as he read aloud from The Hobbit until his eyelashes fluttered closed and the rhythm of his breathing changed. Paige dropped a kiss on his forehead and turned off his bedside lamp.

She watched him until she was satisfied that he was napping comfortably.

Closing his bedroom door, she started for the kitchen to call Mrs. Bennett. Suddenly, the room swam in front of her, and she leaned heavily on the doorframe to keep from falling. Brushing her hair back with her free hand, she noted that her own forehead was warm, too. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "Okay. I'm okay," she murmured. "Just a little tired."

Pushing away from the doorframe, Paige moved slowly into the living room. Before she went shopping, she'd sit down and rest for a few minutes. She lowered herself gingerly to the sofa and sighed as she leaned her head back against the cushion. She'd close her eyes for a little while, and she'd be fine.

She bolted up at the pounding behind her temples and winced at the sharp pain that followed it. She grabbed her head with both hands. When she heard the banging again, she realized with a measure of relief that the racket was not in her head but at her door. Disoriented, she checked her watch. It was well over an hour since she'd sat down and closed her eyes.

The knocking resumed. She rose as quickly as her throbbing head would allow, worried that the noise would wake Jason. Groggy, she swayed as she went to answer the door.

Two delivery men stood in the corridor. They held large cartons overflowing with Christmas-wrapped packages.

"Ah . . . can I help you?" she asked with some confusion.

The younger of the men jiggled the carton he was holding and leaned an edge against the doorframe. He flashed her a crooked smile. "Yes, ma'am. We have some gifts for you." He jostled the carton again and raised his right knee to balance it on his upper leg. "They're darn heavy."

"I don't understand . . ."

The two men exchanged a look. It was the other, older man who spoke. "Are you Ms. Summerville?"