Christmas Haunting by Carrie Bates

Author:Carrie Bates [Bates, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Heather didn’t want to answer the phone, but she was a doctor. She did take calls at all hours of the day and night. The caller ID said it was the hospital, so she took the call, praying that Eric wasn’t on the other end.

“This is Kerry, the nurse from this morning.”

“Yes, Kerry, I remember. What is it?”

“We thought you’d like to know that Mrs. Combs did not survive the surgery.”

“What? She was perfectly healthy.”

“I don’t know the details, but she died on the table. I’m guessing it was her heart.”

Heather wanted to shout, to scream, but she controlled herself.

“I understand. Thank you for the call. The hospital will contact next of kin?”

“I’m sure. The contact information is in her file.”

“Thank…thank you for the call.”

“You’re welcome.”

The call ended. Heather raised her hand to throw the phone across the room, but she restrained herself. The phone hadn’t done anything wrong. The hospital hadn’t done anything wrong. An old woman had died even while they tried to fix her. Happened every day, all over the world. Why did this death feel so personal? Heather flopped in her chair and stared at nothing really. The small Christmas tree she had placed by the TV blinked with red, green, and blue lights. There was nothing jolly about it. There was nothing joyful about it. It simply reminded her that she was alone…at Christmas.

And Mrs. Combs was dead.

No more Christmases for her.

Heather grabbed her cup and headed for the kitchen. She needed coffee, more coffee, and maybe something else to snack on. The baby needed food. That was what she told herself. The little baby needed lots of food. She wasn’t going to skimp on that. If she blew up like a balloon, so be it. The baby needed nourishment.

The rustling sound was loud in the kitchen. Somehow, the chemical smell had drifted up from the basement and invaded the kitchen. She sniffed the air and coughed. It wasn’t gas, was it? She sniffed again. No, it wasn’t gas, not a leak. That would be all she needed. It was the phantom, chemical scent she had noticed before, only more pungent now, more imperative. She added a little cup to the coffee machine and hit the button. At least that machine worked the way it was supposed to. It still made good coffee…she hoped.

Heather found a bag of potato chips in the pantry and returned to the media room, where the sound drowned out the rustling, where the aroma of coffee overcame the rancid smell of lab chemicals. She started on the chips, knowing that her choice of cuisine was not the best for the baby. She told herself she would eat healthy in the morning. Right now, she needed comfort food, and the baby wouldn’t really know the difference. The chips didn’t complement the coffee. Too bad. She hoped the combination would stop her tears. She seemed to be crying all the time. Not that she didn’t have reason. Eric, the traitor, would have been enough.

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