The Gift of Christmas Present Read Online Free PDF

don’t leave.I may need your help getting out. I haven’t actually attempted this yet.”
    â€œAll right.” Christine waited until she heard the shower door close. Then she picked up the bathrobe and pajama top and wondered what to do next. She decided to move the bench close to the shower for when Mrs. Daniels got out. She also set a couple of thick white towels on the edge of it. Next, she located a thick white bath mat, which she placed right next to the shower entrance.
    â€œOkay, I’m done now,” Mrs. Daniels called from inside the shower stall. “Hand me a towel.”
    Much to her relief, Christine managed to open the shower door and hand the old woman a towel without seeing too much old, wrinkly flesh.
    â€œNow give me a hand,” Mrs. Daniels said. She was wrapped in the towel and struggling to balance on one foot. “And hurry it up, my ankle is starting to throb.”
    Christine prayed as she helped the old woman out of the shower and eased her onto the bench, amazingly without a mishap.
    Mrs. Daniels groaned. “Maybe I should’ve skipped the shower after all.”
    Christine got a smaller towel, and without asking she began to blot the dripping silver hair. Fortunately, Mrs. Daniels didn’t protest.
    â€œLet’s get you dried and bandaged up again,” Christine said with a bit more authority. She wrapped another towel around Mrs. Daniels’s shoulders before she stooped down to help dry her legs and feet. Then, kneeling on the hard marble floor, she carefully rewrapped the ankle asclosely as she could to the way it had been before she’d unwound it.
    â€œHave you done this before?”
    She shook her head. “No, but I had considered going to nursing school for a while.”
    â€œWhatever for?”
    â€œTo become a nurse.” Christine stood.
    â€œWell, of course. But why on earth would anyone want to become a nurse, of all things? Changing bedpans and caring for sick people. Good grief.”
    â€œAs it turned out, I wasn’t really suited for it.” Christine handed her a white terry bathrobe that was hanging on a hook by the shower.
    â€œYou could’ve fooled me.” Mrs. Daniels pushed the bathrobe back at her. “No, just go and get me my clothes. I believe I’ll just get dressed in here. You’ll find my underthings in one of the top drawers in the closet. And while you’re at it, bring me a sturdy tennis shoe for my good foot.”
    After about twenty minutes and a bit of cursing on Mrs. Daniels’s part, they managed to get her adequately dressed and seated on the pale yellow leather couch in the living room.
    â€œI think you should put your foot up,” Christine advised.
    â€œYes, I’m sure you’re right.”
    â€œAnd I think you should have some breakfast.” Christine adjusted the tapestry pillow beneath the injured foot. “What do you usually have?”
    â€œI’ll start with some orange juice.” Mrs. Daniels leaned back and closed her eyes and sighed. “Do you know how to make coffee?”
    â€œYes. How do you like it?”
    â€œStrong and with cream.”
    â€œWhat else would you like?”
    â€œI would like a poached egg and a piece of lightly buttered toast.” Mrs. Daniels opened her eyes. “Do you know how to do that?”
    Christine nodded. “My dad likes poached eggs too.”
    Mrs. Daniels closed her eyes again. “Good.”
    Christine wandered through a spacious dining room with a long, dark table large enough to seat at least twelve. Along one wall of this room was a bank of French doors that looked out onto a perfectly landscaped backyard and what appeared to be an inground pool. Christine wondered if Mrs. Daniels actually used the pool, or was it just for looks? Then she went through a set of double swinging doors and found what she’d hoped for—a kitchen. And to Christine’s surprise, it was a