The Accidental Christmas

“God, I can’t wait to get out of this jerkwater state,” Nick Lassiter mumbled to himself as he headed south through Kansas, for Tulsa, Oklahoma. The wipers and defroster of his rental car were waging a losing battle against the slow march of ice that spread down the windshield. It was dark now, and he struggled to find which headlight configuration sucked the least. Switch on high beams, the driving snow blinded his view. Switch them off, and he couldn’t see much at all. Cursing, he decided to use the low beams.

Somewhere in the passenger seat his cell phone rang. Nick had been unable to get the rental car to wirelessly connect to his phone. He felt around under his belongings and fished it out.

“This is Nick.”

“Lassiter? Where the hell’s your story?” Jerry Edwards asked. Jerry was the editor of The Sport Report magazine, Nick’s boss, and best friend.

“Oh, hello Jerry. I’m just great, thanks for asking.”

“You don’t have to get sarcastic. Did you get the interview?”

“Yeah, Jerry, I got it. Have I thanked you yet for sending me to Kansas, in December, to interview the Chiefs’ center? I mean you could have sent me to Tampa to do that interview with the Bucs’ wide receiver. Or to Las Vegas, to interview the Raiders’ quarterback. No, Jerry, you had the wisdom and the decency to send me to friggin’ southeast Kansas to interview that farm boy in the heart of winter. I had a great time talking to him and his parents over ham and beans and cornbread. Over sixteen hundred active NFL players, and you send me to interview Jethro from the Beverly Hillbillies. And thank you so much for waiting until the Chiefs were bumped from the playoffs. Otherwise, I’d have done the interview in Kansas City. You know… near an airport?”

“Relax, ya damn whiner! Tulsa can’t be that far, right?”

“I’m still in Kansas, there’s a blizzard. There are no other cars on the highway. I can’t even see the edge of the road.”

“You’re still gonna make your flight, right?” Jerry asked.

 Every year, Nick, Jerry, and the rest of the unmarried gang at the magazine picked a new place to spend the holidays together. They had a few requirements. Warm weather, gambling, and nightlife. Their mantra was strippers, yes, Christmas trees, not so much.

“I have no idea. I’ll try, I’m driving as fast as I can in this mess. Good God, I can’t see shit,” Lassiter said.

“We have a deadline to make, can you send me your story?” Jerry asked.

“First of all, piss off, I’m driving through a damn blizzard. Secondly, I need to make a couple of changes. I’ll do that at the airport if I have a chance, then send it.”

“Get it done and get it sent as soon as you can. Then get your ass on the plane, so we can burn Miami to the ground, all right? Me and the boys are here already, we’re ready to get this shit going!”

“Look, my phone’s getting ready to die. Be there as soon as I can. Save some women for me.”

“Nick?”

“Jerry?” Nick looked at his dead phone. “Shit.” He tossed it into the passenger seat. He was beginning to worry, not just if he could still make his flight, but if he’d make it off this road. He hadn’t seen another car for many miles in either direction.  Nick began to wonder if he was still on the right road. Switching the dome light on, he leaned over and got in his bag for a road map. He felt smart for always bringing an old school navigational method. Google didn’t always work out in ‘BFE’.

As he looked up from the map, a deer charged out in the road in front of him, and Nick instinctively mashed the brake pedal. The deer looked up and managed to leap out of the path of Nick’s oncoming rental car that was now fishtailing down the highway. It switched ends and spun around, flew into a ditch on the opposite side of the road, striking a large tree.

Nick’s eyes fluttered open. Dazed, he wasn’t sure for a minute what happened, or how long he’d been out. The front end of the car was smashed; wrapped around the tree. His head throbbed, he put his hand to his forehead and felt a stickiness. Blood.

He tried to start the car, unsuccessfully. The biting cold had quickly invaded the vehicle’s interior. A sinking feeling of dread settled into Nick’s stomach. He looked through a clear spot in the rear passenger window. He’d never seen so much snow falling, so quickly. He thought of his phone, then remembered the dead battery.

Now what?

He sat for a few moments, then realized, if he were to have any chance at all, he’d need to get up beside the highway and watch for someone to pass by and flag them down.

He put on every piece of clothing he owned, socks on his hands since he’d forgotten to bring gloves, and hiked up to the highway. He found what must have been the edge of the highway, but there was so much snow, who could tell for certain? The snow was nearly up to his knees. Five minutes passed. Then ten. After fifteen minutes passed, Nick knew he was going to die.

But wait, were those headlights he saw? It was only a brief flash. Maybe the vehicle dipped below a hill. Please, God, I pray they didn’t turn off on a side road.

He stared into the blackness a bit longer, then the headlights appeared again. This time they stayed in view, moving painfully slow. As they drew closer and closer, Nick raised his arms and waved wildly at the tall, four-wheel drive pickup with giant knobby tires slowly chugging toward him. It stopped in front of him, and the driver motioned for him to get in.

“Thanks, mister. My name’s Nick Lassiter. My car slid off the road.”

“Dave Hartshorne,” the sixty-something year old gray haired driver said. “Why are you out on a night like this?”

“I’m on my way to the Tulsa airport. Flying to Miami.”

“Not tonight. Airports are closed, it’s been all over the radio.”

“Oh. I was listening to a podcast.”

“A what?”

Nick shook his head. “Never mind. Can you get me to Tulsa?”

“Not going to Tulsa. I’m headed home in the opposite direction. You’re welcome to come along.”

“Guess I don’t have much of a choice,” Nick said. “All right. Mind if I use your wifi when we get there? I need to send something to my boss.”

“Wifi? You mean the internet?”

“Yeah, the internet.”

“Sorry, we don’t have that. Occasionally we can get a signal on the cell phone, but not all the time. For sure won’t in this weather.”

“Damn!” Nick said. “Maybe I can charge my phone’s battery. You do have electricity?”

Dave smiled, “Yeah, usually. With all this wind, ice, and snow, though, who knows. There’ll be a lot of snapped lines tonight.”

“Can’t we go any faster?” Nick asked.

“Not unless you want to end up in the ditch again.” Dave kept the truck between ten and fifteen miles per hour. “Our place is up ahead, five more miles.”

He nodded and they rode in silence for a while. Finally, Nick spoke up. “You going home to your family, Dave?”

He shook his head. “No one’s there right now. I have to go chop ice, make sure the cattle can get water.”

“Chop ice?”

Dave nodded. “I’ll get a fire going, you can warm up by it. I’ll take care of my chores, then we’ll head on to Xavier.”

Nick looked at him, puzzled.

“Xavier, Kansas, near the Oklahoma line. It’s where my family is, I’ve got to get back as soon as possible.”

“Oh, I see.”

Dave glanced over at Nick. “What’s in Miami?”

Hookers. Cocaine. And not a single responsibility in sight.

“I work for a sports magazine. All us single guys head somewhere warm every year, escape all the holiday nonsense.”

“You do this every year?” Dave asked.

“Yeah? Why?”

Dave shook his head. “My place is up ahead.” He turned off the road and pushed through the snowy driveway to a small house, completely dark. He switched off the ignition of the old F-150. “Come on in, I’ll get you some warmer clothes and get a fire going. You can warm up while I chop ice.”

“You need me to help you?” Nick asked, in a tone that suggested he really didn’t want to.

Dave looked at the thirty-something city slicker in the fancy suit and dress shoes and smiled as they walked up a ramp and entered the house. “No but thank you for the offer.” He hit the light switch, and nothing happened. He tried a lamp with no result. 

“Power’s out. Won’t be able to charge your cell phone, sorry.” Dave knelt in front of the wood stove and quickly started a fire, the orange flames licking upward, lighting up the meager home.

“Throw another log in there when you need to. I shouldn’t be too long. If you’re hungry, the kitchen’s there. My bedroom is down the hall to the left. Find you some warmer clothes in there if you like. Just make yourself at home.” Dave said, and left the house, disappearing into the darkness.

As the fire dimly lit the living room, Nick looked around. The little farmhouse was nothing like his swanky, modern, Manhattan apartment. He cursed under his breath, thinking of missing his flight to Miami and a week of absolute hedonism.

As he stood in front of the fire, warming himself, he looked at the walls. To the right was what he assumed was a family portrait. Dave was in it, with two other people. One was a young girl of ten, perhaps, and the other was a woman in her thirties, in a wheelchair. Probably the girl’s mother. A sad little Christmas tree with handmade decorations sat in the corner, a single present placed underneath.

Behind the tree were framed certificates, unmatched and hanging askew on the wall. Nick peered past the tree at them. There was a community college diploma, a CPR certificate, and a nursing license certificate. “Those are Annie’s,” Dave said as Nick whirled toward him. “My daughter-in-law. She used to be a nurse, before…”

“Before what?”

Dave stared at the wall for a moment, then shook his head, bent over, and picked up the lone present under the little Christmas tree.

“Let’s get going.” They hurried out to the truck and got in. Dave turned the key, and nothing happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“Battery’s dead. Cold weather finished ‘er off. I knew I was pushing my luck, but batteries are so expensive these days. Try to get all I can outta one.

Nick nodded, but silently, he wondered how the hell can someone not afford a car battery.

“Only other battery is in Annie’s car, which ain’t here. You ever rode a horse before?”

“Are you serious? No, I grew up in San Diego.”

“You don’t have to come with me; you can stay here by the fire if you like. But I’m going back to Xavier, tonight. I just… I have to.”

Nick thought he heard the old man’s voice break a bit. Maybe it was the reporter in him, but he found himself pondering a question. “Dave, I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve got me wondering. What’s going on? What happened to Annie?”

 Dave exhaled. “The accident. My son, her husband, was driving. He got sleepy and ran off the road. He died, and Annie was paralyzed from the waist down. I just thank God every day that little Jessica wasn’t hurt bad. Happened not far from where you went off the road. Annie and Jessica live here with me now, going on three years.”

Nick felt a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, Dave. But why do you have to get to Xavier?”

 “Little Jessi’s awful sick. She’s in Xavier Hospital, the ICU. With this weather, there’s no way to safely transfer her to a larger hospital, but they’re doing the best they can for her there. We always have our little Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning together, and nothing’s going to keep me from that. Like I said, you’re welcome to stay here, Nick.”

Nick didn’t understand, but, inexplicably, Miami and hedonism were the last things on his mind right now. Something told him he needed to see this little family reunited, and he had no idea why. “I’d like to go with you, if you don’t mind.”

Dave nodded. “Come on out to the barn. I’ll show you how to saddle your horse.”

Several hours later, Dave and Nick reined up in front of the hospital. They tied their horses to a signpost with a sign that read “Reserved for CEO.” Nick thought he’d never been so cold. He couldn’t stop shivering.

They made their way to Jessica’s room. “I’ll wait out here, Dave.”

Dave gestured to the nurse’s station. “You can probably use their phone, see about a motel room. We’ll figure some way to get you there. Even if you have to get on that old paint again.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just warm up here a while first,” Nick said, not wanting to leave. Why do I need to see this through? I don’t understand.

Dave went into Jessica’s room as Nick relaxed in a chair outside in a waiting area. He was exhausted, yet sleep wouldn’t come. How is Jessica? He didn’t understand why he needed to know, he just did. 

After a few minutes, Dave came out with a big smile. “Her fever’s come down a lot, they’re getting IV fluids in her, thank God!”

Nick jumped up and hugged Dave, then pulled away quickly. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Come on inside, Nick, I want you to meet my girls.”

Nick followed Dave into the room. “Girls, this is Nick Lassiter. He had some car trouble this evening and somehow, he got stuck with me! Nick, this is Annie Hartshorne, my daughter, and this precious girl is my granddaughter, Jessica.”

“Nice to meet you, Nick,” Annie said, nodding politely.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Lassiter,” Jessica said, smiling.

A huge lump knotted Nick’s throat. “It’s nice to meet you both. Jessica, are you feeling better?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Jessi, on the way over here, I ran into Santa. He gave me something to give to you!” Dave said, bringing the present out from behind his back.

Jessica squealed and clapped her hands. “Thank you, Grandpa Dave, oh, and thank Santa, of course! Wait, where’s your presents?”

Annie and Dave looked at each other. “Well, honey, we didn’t have the money this year, but it’s ok. Go ahead, open yours!”

“Ok!” Jessica tore off the paper and laughed. “Oh, thank you, I love it!” she said, holding it up. It was a writing journal she’d wanted with the Kansas City Chiefs logo on the cover.

“Jessi loves writing, and she loves the Chiefs!” Annie said.

“Perfect gift, I love it, thank you so much!” Jessica said, beaming.

Nick couldn’t believe it. This sad, yet lovely little family, that loves each other so much, through tragedy, poverty, pain and loss. There was such a beauty and honor in their simple lives.

“Could you all excuse me for a bit?” Nick said as he pushed through the door. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and asked the nurse to use her charger. After it had charged, he made a couple of calls before settling down for the night in a chair beside Grandpa Dave.

Christmas morning came, and Jessica, improving rapidly, had been moved from the ICU to the regular unit. The snow stopped, and the snowplows were out clearing the roads.

There was a knock at the door. Nick jumped up to answer it. “Jessica, there’s someone here that would like to meet you.”

The door opened and a giant man filled the doorway. “Hello Jessica! My name is—”

“Craig Henderson! You’re the center for the Kansas City Chiefs!” Jessica screamed.

“That’s right! I heard you were in the hospital, and I wanted to come by and wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Would you sign my new journal, Mr. Henderson?” Jessica asked, holding it out for him.

“Of course!” The young man spent an hour with the girl before telling her he had to go.

“It was so nice to meet you, Jessica,” Craig said.

“Nice to meet you too! I’ll never forget it!”

“Well, I’d have never known to come here if it wasn’t for Mr. Lassiter there.”

Jessica looked at Nick with wide eyes. “You did this? Thank you so much, Nick!”

“My pleasure, Jessi. Thank you again, Craig. I’ll walk you out.”

Craig Henderson gestured toward the brand-new truck and horse trailer. “Will that work?”

Nick shook his head in disbelief. “That’s amazing. That little family is going to love it.”

“Highways are clear now, Nick,” Craig said. “You can get on to Tulsa, catch a late flight to Miami, have your wild week you were talking about.”

Nick thought for a moment about his experience, about the feelings he had for the Hartshornes. Dave, hard-working salt of the earth. Annie, who refused to be defined by a wheelchair. And little Jessi, the writer. Little did she know, he was going to give her a leg up in the business, if she wanted it. It was the least he could do, they changed everything for him. The next phone call he would make, was a long overdue one to his parents. “You know, Craig, Miami, stuff like that, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m going to stick around here a little while. I have another story to write.”