Christmas (4): A Late Christmas Arrival
Outside the window, snow was falling. The night after a white Christmas. The entire Parks family—including the dog and the cat—was staring at Lizelotte. Everyone except the doctor who had yet to return from the hospital.
Lizelotte sipped her hot chocolate. It was a peaceful home, even if not particularly grand. Except for the fact that one person still hadn't arrived. The person Lizelotte had come to see. Still, he would be here soon, wouldn't he?
Meanwhile, Mrs. Parks looked at Lizelotte and spoke.
"Lizelotte, was it? Are you perhaps an actress? Your face looks familiar somehow."
She shook her head.
"I'm not an actress."
"I thought you must be, since you're so pretty."
Lizelotte covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh. But a question lingered in her mind. Why didn't these people know who she was? She had assumed they would. After all, she was fairly well-known. There couldn't be many in California who didn't know the Weissman family name. The Weissman Foundation for Social Work, the companies tied to the family, and most importantly—hadn't he bragged about her to the people around him? At the very least, he could have mentioned that he'd made a new friend.
She frowned slightly.
"Did your son not mention me at all?"
"Not really."
"I see……"
Lizelotte gave a wry smile. She had thought he would at least boast a little. Apparently not. It was a bit disappointing. Then again, that doctor didn't seem like the type. Perhaps he hadn't even thought much about Lizelotte at all. He really was a handful.
Lizelotte sighed inwardly, her fingers brushing against the business card in her pocket.
"I understand."
"What do you do? Are you still a student?"
"I work at a social foundation."
In a way, it was amusing. It had been a long time since she'd met people who either didn't know who she was or simply didn't care. It felt oddly refreshing. That doctor himself was often the same. In front of him, where she came from, how much money she had, or how prestigious her family name was became secondary concerns. He probably only thought about patients and medicine. It was a rare opportunity to be judged not as the daughter of a noble house, but simply for who she was. At least, that was how Lizelotte saw it.
Their gazes returned to her.
"Are you his girlfriend, by any chance?"
The question felt strangely ordinary. Was this what the world outside the ivory tower felt like? A truly ordinary household. She had attended Christmas parties before, but never in an atmosphere like this.
Instead of answering right away, Lizelotte fiddled with her hair and paused for a few seconds.
"Well…… something like that."
"Please take good care of him. He's a rather peculiar person. Sometimes we don't understand him either."
The Parks family continued chatting with Lizelotte. Occasionally, the family's small cat would meow as if adding its own two cents. And then—
It was the second time. The Parks family's pets lifted their heads at the sound of a car pulling up outside. Had today's main character finally arrived?
Lizelotte stood up immediately and headed for the front door.
***
Finishing up at the hospital had taken time. It wasn't as if there was only one patient, and falling asleep at the wheel wasn't an option. The snowy roads hadn't helped either. At last, I arrived at my family home. I was several hours later than expected, but there was nothing to be done. I couldn't just leave in the middle of seeing patients. Maybe the others were right. In a way, the fact that that patient had woken up relatively intact might have been a Christmas miracle.
Snow was falling lightly outside. I brushed the snow from my collar, opened the front door, and stepped inside. The moment the door opened—
"You're finally here!"
A pair of bright blue eyes and a youthful face framed by soft golden hair that fell past her shoulders smiled at me. Lizelotte stood at the far end of the entryway, looking at me.
Was I hallucinating from exhaustion? I blinked. Why was she in our house? Why was she the one greeting me?
"Why are you here?"
"You invited me last time."
She tilted her head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Had I? I supposed I must have.
"Ah. Right……?"
Lizelotte placed her hand on my face. The winter wind, unusually cold for California, brushed against skin accustomed to the chill. Warm fingers touched my face.
"Come inside quickly. It's cold out there."
Lizelotte linked her arm through mine and led me into the house, looking unusually cheerful today.
The moment we entered, our golden retriever and cat erupted into a noisy welcome, clearly delighted to see me after so long. My family was waiting. I hung up my coat and sat on the sofa.
"Oh, you're late."
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"You should have come sooner. Your friend was waiting."
I simply nodded. Lizelotte was smiling in a way I rarely saw—bright and unguarded. A small fire crackled in the brick fireplace that we rarely used.
"Thank you for inviting me."
Lizelotte offered a gentle, noble smile, and I nodded. Truthfully, I had no memory of inviting her, but it didn't matter. It wasn't as if I could send her away on the day after Christmas.
She sat with her legs crossed, poised and proper, then looked at me as if remembering something.
"Oh, right. I brought brownies!"
Brownies dusted with white powdered sugar. I tried one. Our golden retriever stared at me intently, but I shook my head. Dogs weren't supposed to eat chocolate, were they? The dog lowered its head dejectedly. I felt oddly guilty.
Anyway, the brownies were delicious. Given Lizelotte's personality, I'd half-expected something strange to be in them, but they only carried a slightly strong note of butter and vanilla.
"They're good……"
She leaned toward me.
"Why were you late?"
"I'm sorry. Something came up at the hospital."
She nodded gravely.
"What kind of case was it?"
"Well…… a patient in their twenties came in with a myocardial infarction on Christmas Day. They were nearly gone, so it took some effort to save them."
"I thought it might be something like that. Still, I'm glad you made it before it got too late."
Well, what else could it have been? I quietly sipped my hot chocolate as the conversation continued—hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. Lizelotte poked me in the side.
"If there's ever a gathering with family or friends, invite me too. And don't act surprised when I show up, okay?"
"Ah, sure."
"Let's stay close."
Beside me, Lizelotte—looking slightly more at ease—rested her hand on my shoulder as she spoke. If every day were like today…… it would probably get boring. But it wouldn't be so bad.
***
Meanwhile, at the Stanford Cardiology Ward.
The ward was bustling today—perhaps even more so than usual. People returning from vacation had to catch up on their backlog. Internal medicine resident James sat at the station, staring at the problematic patient's medical records. The same patient who had claimed to have been saved by an angel on Christmas Day.
An angel might have made more sense. That Asian resident had used some new imaging machine brought in this year to perform an emergency catheter procedure and fix the patient's coronary artery? It was absurd. Then again, when it came to that person, what wasn't absurd? If someone asked, he wouldn't have an answer. This case especially so. It was like hearing that a first-year auto mechanic had hopped into a helicopter because he was busy.
James couldn't wrap his head around the idea of heart surgery being done with a catheter. That part, at least, he could accept since it was someone else's specialty. But still—
'I don't get it.'
How could he? An angel was more logical. A Christmas miracle. That was how he decided to think of it. The professors seemed to agree. In any case, James sighed. He needed to figure out what was actually wrong with this patient. It was fortunate they'd managed to get his heart beating again, but that wasn't the end of the story. The real question was why this had happened—and whether they could prevent a recurrence.
The patient had a fever and had experienced a sudden drop in cardiac function. He wasn't at an age where adult diseases were common. A genetic issue, perhaps? There had also been some localized neurological lesions. What was he supposed to make of that? No matter how hard James thought, he couldn't reach a conclusion. Antipyretics and antibiotics were being administered, and the cardiac symptoms had been treated. So then—hadn't every lead a detective could follow simply vanished?
He would have to ask his junior when he returned. The guy would probably answer right away. That crazy bastard.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the Asian resident walked into the ward station.
"Good evening."
James immediately waved his junior over.
"Put your bag down and take a look at this. It's that myocardial infarction patient you treated last time."
"Ah, yes."
"What do you think the final diagnosis is?"
James's junior, the Asian resident, set down his bag and approached. The moment he glanced at the medical records, he spoke.
"Ah, that is……"