Gideon's Gift (6 page)

“Okay.” Brian hesitated. The old man didn’t deserve a gift from Gideon, but how could he tell that to his daughter? “How much
money do you have?”

Gideon’s eyes sparkled. “Five dollars and fifteen cents.”

Five dollars and fifteen cents.
The amount was barely enough for a greeting card. Still, Tish was right. If this gift mattered to Gideon that much—no matter
what he thought—he could hardly stand in her way. He pulled Gideon into a hug and whispered in her ear, “Alright, sweetie.
I think I know just the place.”

Two hours later they were walking out of the secondhand store arm in arm. Swinging from Gideon’s elbow was a gift that had
cost every last dime she’d saved. Everything she’d worked for those past two weeks.

When they got home, Gideon asked Tish to help her.

“I wanna sew something inside the gift.”

Tish’s smile was tender and understanding. Brian watched, frustrated.
Better her than me. Too much time and money on the old man.
Gideon’s love was far too precious.

Gideon spent another half hour coloring a picture for Earl. She slipped the gift into a brown paper bag, dropped the picture
inside, and tied it shut with a piece of string. Then she decorated the outside with Christmas trees and angels. Smack in
the middle she wrote the old man’s name.

Brian and Tish admired it when she was done. “It’s perfect, honey.”

“Think he’ll like it?” Her hopeful eyes searched theirs.

“Like it?” Tish hugged Gideon to her side. “He’ll love it.”

T
he next night at the mission, after they finished serving dinner, Brian and Tish anchored themselves at a table not far from
Earl’s and waited. Since the night included a Christmas concert and figured to last longer than the others, Dustin had stayed
with a neighbor. The concert had come first, then dinner. Now, with everyone eating, Gideon found the place where she’d hidden
her gift, raised it so Brian and Tish could see it, and flashed them a thumbs-up.

Carrying the decorated brown paper sack in front of her, she approached Earl’s table and sat down. “Merry Christmas, Earl.”

Brian could hear their conversation perfectly.
Make him smile. Please.

Earl’s fork froze halfway to his mouth and he lifted his eyes to Gideon. “Get lost.”

Gideon shot Brian and Tish a weak look. Tish motioned to her, encouraging her to go ahead. Gideon stood a little straighter,
nodded, and turned back to Earl. Then she lifted the decorated brown bag and set it in front of his plate. “I brought you
a Christmas present.”

Earl stared at it. For a long moment Brian actually thought the gift had worked. Then the old man set his fork down. “I hate
Christmas. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Yes.” Gideon’s eyes were fixed on his. “You told me you didn’t believe. But believing is the best gift of all and I thought
maybe if I gave you a—”

“You thought wrong.” Earl’s voice boomed across the table.

Brian made a move toward the man, but Tish grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Brian.” She shifted her gaze to Gideon. “This is her thing.”

“But she spent all her money on that stupid gift.” His teeth were clenched, his anger so strong it choked him.

“She
wanted
to do this.”

Brian sighed. “You’re right.” He felt the fight simmering within him. They watched Gideon and Earl. Their daughter hadn’t
said anything since Earl’s rude interruption.

Now she leaned forward and clasped her hands on the table. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Earl dropped his gaze. “I’ll probably throw it away.”

Again Brian’s muscles tensed.
How dare he.
Even from their spot a few tables away they could see tears building in Gideon’s eyes.

“You can’t throw it away. It’s a Christmas gift. I… I bought it for you.”

Something in their daughter’s voice must have caused the old man to look up. When he saw her sad face he huffed hard. “Fine.”
He jerked the bag from the table and stuffed it into his coat pocket. “Happy?”

It took every ounce of Brian’s resolve not to go after the old man and knock him to the floor.

Gideon blinked back the tears. She was trying so hard to be brave. “I-I want you to open it, Earl.”

This time he snarled at her. “I’m not opening it, okay? Now, leave me alone.” The old man’s eyes looked dead as he lowered
his voice. “I hate Christmas, kid. And I hate people like you.”

The shock on Gideon’s face must have startled Earl, as though even he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He tossed his
fork down, pushed back and stood. Then without saying a word, he took five angry strides toward the door and disappeared into
the night.

Gideon watched him, her mouth open. When he was gone, she cast a desperate look at Brian and Tish. The pain in her eyes hurt
Brian more than anything ever had. They went to her and together wrapped her in a hug.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Tish kissed her cheek and wiped one of her tears.

Brian held Gideon tightly, unable to speak.
God? How could you let this happen? After all her hard work?
He closed his eyes and rested his head on her smaller one.

“He didn’t even open it.” Gideon’s tears were under control. No hysteria or loud sobbing. Just the quiet pain of a little
girl whose heart had been broken. It was only then that Brian was struck by something he hadn’t wanted to see before. The
dark circles under Gideon’s eyes were back. She looked tired and weak and when he felt her head, his breath caught in his
throat.

She was burning up.

Oh, God, no! Don’t let her be sick now.
Brian worked to focus. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.” He ran his hand along the back of her head. “You did everything
you could.”

“But, Daddy, I asked God for a miracle. I thought if I gave Earl a Christmas gift he’d believe again.” She pulled back and
searched his eyes, then Tish’s. “How come it didn’t work?”

I
t was a question that hung in the air all that night and threatened to darken everything about the coming Christmas. But Earl’s
rudeness paled in comparison with the news they got two days later.

“I’m sorry.” The doctor had asked Gideon to wait in the examination room while he talked to Brian and Tish in his office.
Gideon had been so sick that morning, Tish had taken the day off. “Her cancer’s back. Worse than before, more aggressive.
I’m going to have to admit her.”

Admit her?
Brian could barely breathe.
No!
It wasn’t fair.
Not Gideon!
His hands and feet felt numb, and the room tilted. Beside him, Tish began to cry.

The doctor looked at an open chart on his desk. “Her younger brother is a perfect match for a bone-marrow transplant.” The
doctor’s voice dropped. “At the rate the disease is moving, I think it’s time to do the procedure.”

Brian huffed. “Sure.” He stood and paced to the office window. “How are we supposed to pay for it?” He turned and met the
doctor’s eyes. “We don’t have insurance; you know that.”

“Yes.” The doctor crossed his arms. “I’ve gotten the okay from the hospital. We can do it for twenty-five thousand. That’s
below cost, Mr. Mercer.” He hesitated. “We could get started with half that much.”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars?” A sound that was more sob than laugh came from his throat. “Sir, I don’t have twenty-five
dollars.”

“Is there any other way?” Tish folded her arms tight around her waist. “Anything we can do to raise the money?”

“Yes.” The doctor reached for a brochure and handed it to her. “You can hold a fund-raiser. Many families do that as a way
of paying for the transplant.”

“And if we don’t get enough?” Brian’s body trembled, battling an onslaught of fear and anger, confusion and heartache.

“We’ll start chemotherapy immediately, just like before.” The doctor grimaced. “If we’re lucky she might slip back into remission.”

“If that happens, Doctor, luck won’t have anything to do with it.” Tish clutched the fund-raising information tightly to her
chest. There was a determination in her eyes Brian had never seen before. She stood and moved toward the door. “I need to
be with Gideon.”

When Tish was gone, Brian locked eyes with the doctor. “Be straight with me, Doc. How bad is it?”

“She needs a transplant, Mr. Mercer.” The man blinked and Brian could see he was considering how much to say. Finally he sighed
and shook his head. “She doesn’t have much time.”

G
ideon was quiet while they set her up in a room. A stream of nurses came to draw blood, hook up monitors, and start an IV
line. Thirty minutes later a drip bag was hooked to her other arm. This one contained the chemicals that would ravage her
small body and maybe—if God smiled down on them—leave her cancer free one more time. But God had let the cancer come back.
And he hadn’t done much to help Gideon’s surprise with Earl.

Why ask him for help now?

When the nurses were gone, Brian and Tish moved to Gideon’s side. Tish leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead.
“How’re you feeling, honey?”

Gideon’s eyes were flat. “I don’t wanna be here.” She looked at the monitors stationed around her. “Can’t they do this stuff
at home like last time?”

Brian wanted to rip out the needles and tell her it’d all been a mistake. That she had a cold, nothing more. He gritted his
teeth and willed himself to smile. “You won’t be in long, Gideon. A few days maybe.” He took her delicate fingers in his.
“One of us will be here until you come home, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was slow and tired. “But there’s one thing I wish I knew.”

“What’s that, honey?” Brian could only imagine the questions that had to be running through her head. Why her? Why now? Why,
when it had looked like everything was going to work out? Of course even those would be nothing to the one burning question
that had shouted at him every moment since their meeting with the doctor: How were they going to find the money?

Tish brushed her fingers lightly over Gideon’s hair. “What, sweetheart? Tell us.”

“I wish I knew…” Gideon stared out the window. “… if Earl opened my gift.”

E
arl must have passed a hundred trash cans since the Christmas dinner.