Second Kiss by Natalie Palmer Page A

floated into the room as lightly as a feather.
    Jess was the one that answered, “No change that I can tell. I hope she wakes up soon. She’ll be sad if she wakes up and Christmas is over.”
    Mom sighed sadly. “She’ll just be happy to see that you and the girls are all right. It won’t matter what day it is.”
    Jess nodded.
    Mom then turned to me. “Gemma?” The sound of her saying my name was strange to me. I was in a whole other world in this cold white room on this particular day of the year, and the sound of my name brought me back to reality.
    She continued, “I just talked to your dad. The whole family just showed up at our house. I feel like I need to run home and see them for a little while. Do you want to come with me?”
    “And leave Jess?” The idea was barbaric to me.
    Jess quickly interjected, “You should go, Gemma.”
    I whipped my head around. “What? Why?”
    Jess spoke slowly, “It’s Christmas. You don’t have to spend the whole day in this depressing hospital. Go home, see your family. Eat pie and open presents. Laugh. Have fun.” His eyes wondered sadly toward the space above my head. I wished I knew what he was thinking about.
    I protested, “Christmas will come again next year. And I can see my family another day. They don’t live that far away.”
    “Gemma,” Mom interrupted, “Jess may just want a little time alone. Some time to rest.”
    Jess looked at me. “Some rest would be nice.” He squeezed my fingers lightly and I remembered that we were holding hands-in front of Mom.

    I leaned in closer to him, my face fixed in a pained expression. “You want me to leave?”
    His eyes were sad. He really did look so tired. “I never want you to leave, Gem. But I probably should take a nap. The nurse said she’d bring me a cot so I could stay in here with my mom.”
    Mom’s voice broke the silence between us, “I’ll bring you back first thing tomorrow morning, sweetheart.” Her voice was irritating. I knew she meant well, but I didn’t want to leave Jess, and I was growing angry at him for kicking me out.
    I stood up quickly from the chair and grabbed my coat, which I had thoughtlessly draped on the end of Caris’s bed a half hour before. I was angry and hurt. Hurt that Jess didn’t want me to stay and angry at myself for being so self-absorbed at a time like this. My dad used to say that I wore my emotions on my sleeve. For years I thought he meant that my mood determined the shirt I wore that day. If I was happy I wore yellow, sad I wore gray. But what he meant was that I was a terrible fake at hiding my true emotions. And if there were two people in the world that knew me well enough to see right through me, it was Mom and Jess. Usually Jess would have teased me about being so energetic in my distaste for life. But he said nothing. I didn’t blame him, though. My attitude problem was hardly an issue compared to the rest of the things he was dealing with. I took a deep breath and swallowed the ball of pride that was rising in my throat.
    “Is it okay if I come back tomorrow morning?”
    Jess nodded and his face relaxed. “You better come back tomorrow.”
    Later that night, I sat snuggled up on the couch in front of the fireplace while my cousins exchanged gifts. But my attention wasn’t on my cousins or even the gift that my cousin Becky-who had chosen my name for the gift exchange-had placed in my lap. I was watching Dad, who sat on the oversized recliner in the back of the room. He had a cup of eggnog in one hand, and he gestured with the other while explaining to my uncle Jack the ins and outs of hardware. Dad worked in an accounting office, but his true love was tools and anything that had to do with tools. Uncle Jack-the artist of the family-seemed disinterested, but he kindly allowed Dad to prattle on about his favorite hobby. I watched the corners of Dad’s eyes. I was fascinated by them. When he smiled, a dozen tiny little lines formed at their outer