Previously:

Giselle had to leave her family's Christmas celebration to attend to a power outage at the Highwind. In the dark, she ran into a pillar, and a television monitor fell from its supports, pinning her to the ground.

While her family waited for Giselle to return to the party, Giselle's new friend, Father Liam Bartlett, showed up at the manor with a gift for her. Watching from the roadside, Vincent Guthrie wondered how this man factored into Giselle's life.

Martine was supposed to have Christmas dinner with Tyson LeBrock and his family, but she went into labor unexpectedly. Charlie stayed by her side and tried desperately to reach Tyson before the baby could be born.

 

Ormand Manor

Giselle Ormand opened her eyes and the entire world was a painful, bright white. The last thing she remembered was fumbling around in the dark ... bumping into a wall ... being crushed by ... something. But she wasn't at the X-Limit anymore.

She looked around at her surroundings. Where was she now, and how did she get here?

Giselle finally realized where she was. She was standing on her front porch, and she huddled against the cold air. Suddenly, everything felt so sharp and so real. She looked to her snow-covered front yard, pristine and untouched. The streets were empty.

She shivered again at the temperature. She wore a long, thin sweater-jacket, but the chill bit right through. Giselle turned to open the front door of her home, grateful to find she hadn't locked herself out.

It scared her that she didn't remember anything between being flattened at the X-Limit and returning home, but as she stepped into the foyer of Ormand Manor, she was grateful to back with her family for their Christmas together.

The house was completely silent. Everything looked exactly as she left it earlier that morning, but where was everybody?

"Hello?" Giselle called out, her cool blue eyes wandering over the room. "Remy?" She stepped slowly through the foyer, peered into the empty kitchen. "Horace? Is anybody here?"

"Ah, Giselle," a familiar voice pierced the silence. Giselle tensed in fear, then whipped around the face the man behind her -- but there was nobody there. She knew that voice. She knew it well ... but it couldn't be...?

He appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly descending to the foyer. Gerard Ormand. Giselle's second husband. Dead for years, now...

"Gerard..." she gasped, a hand covering her gaping mouth.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and swept an arm across the foyer, "Hello, and welcome to my home."

Giselle steeled her gaze. "Your home?" She crossed the room to face him down, forgetting entirely that he was supposed to be dead. "I'm afraid not."

"You're in my world now, Giselle. My reality. You are the visitor here." Gerard Ormand's back straightened. He looked down at her, haughty as ever with his slicked black hair and a goatee peppered with gray. Gerard was always far more imposing than his slim frame suggested. That powerful presence was one of the reasons Giselle had been so drawn to him in the first place. He must have done something right, because his marriage to Giselle lasted longer than either of her two unions to Vincent Guthrie.

Giselle tried to wrap her head around his words. "If I'm a visitor, as you say, would you mind telling me what the hell I'm doing here? And why I'm with you?"

He laughed, the sound ringing through the emptiness of the foyer. "I have something to show you." He stepped closer, his eyes intense.

"You can put it away -- I'm not interested. I've moved on."

"Funny. You're the one dreaming of me," he leered. Gerard Ormand latched on to her arm, his grip strong. "Come with me. I want to show you what you're missing at this very moment. We're going to look in on your family -- our family."

"It's all a dream?" Giselle frowned and followed after him. "So you're the Ghost of Christmas Present or something? If I guess right, do we get to end this ridiculous fantasy early? I don't have time for this." She quickened her pace to keep up with him as Gerard walked on, ignoring her. "And what happened to the Ghost of Christmas Past? Isn't that how the story goes? Past, present, future?"

Gerard stopped and turned, annoyed. "Will you just follow the script for once in your life? I'm trying to do you a favor, mon chou," he added with a saccharine smile. "You won't be unconscious for very long, so we had to cut the whole 'Christmas Past' bit. We don't have much time together, sadly."

Giselle felt her chest tighten. Sometimes she forgot how much she'd actually cared for Gerard. How much she missed him...

Gerard put an arm around her shoulder, pausing outside the kitchen doors. "Well then, shall we get this show on the road?"

 

Ormand Manor

From the kitchen, Beau, Kerri, and Remy looked into the living room to their guest, their faces in a line, top to bottom like a totem pole, as they peered around the corner. Father Liam Bartlett sat in an overstuffed sofa, his back turned to them as they regarded him. He helped himself to the plate of Christmas cookies in front of him and waited patiently.

After their little huddle, the family members backed away and began talking in whispers. "What are we going to do with this guy if Mom doesn't show up?" Remy asked.

"How should I know?" Beau said, worried the stranger would overhear. He was obviously a priest of some kind. Under his jacket, he wore a black shirt and a white collar. If that was the case, the question was: What the hell did he want with Giselle?

"Just be nice! He's not hurting anything by being here," Kerri said.

"But he's eating all the cookies!" Remy pouted, peeking around the corner at Liam once more. "I can't stand for this." He whipped out his phone, trying to call his mother again.

"This is beyond rude. I mean, it's one thing for her to stand her kids up. She knows we'll forgive her. But this poor man's here waiting for her on Christmas Day! Waiting because she can't leave the Highwind to itself for one afternoon," Beau continued his anti-Giselle tirade, while Remy got his mother's voicemail.

Kerri tried to calm her fiancé. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. You know how important it was to her to have all of us here today."

"Hmph!" Beau huffed, storming off to the corner of the room.

"No answer," Remy sighed, tossing his phone to the counter top. "It just went straight to voicemail."

"Pardon me," Liam Bartlett said, appearing in the doorway and startling them all. "But I must be getting home soon. Perhaps it would be best if I came back another time. Will you give this to your mother for me?" he handed Giselle's wrapped gift to Remy.

"Sure thing." Remy accepted the gift, hoping Father Bartlett's decision to leave wasn't influenced by anything he might have overheard from the kitchen.

"It was nice to meet you, Father Bartlett," Kerri said, taking his hand. "I know Giselle will be disappointed she missed you. Hang on, and I'll pack up some cookies you can take with you," Kerri said, earning a deadly glare from Remy.

Once Liam had his cookies, he walked to the door. "Thank you for your hospitality. Have a merry Christmas, and tell your mother the same."

"We will! Goodbye!" Remy closed the door on their visitor, rounding on Beau and Kerri. "What the hell was that all about? And what's this?" he asked, looking curiously at the gift in his hands. "Should I open it?"

"No," Beau said, taking it from his brother. "It's for mom. It might be personal."

"It might be lingerie ... or worse!" Kerri teased.

"My mother in lingerie?" Remy asked with a shudder. "There is no worse."

"Do you think he has a crush on her, or something? Giselle's divorcing Vincent, so maybe this guy's moving in for the kill," Kerri said.

Beau shook his head. "He's a Catholic priest. That's like the polar opposite of Mom. I'm surprised he hasn't burst into flames being in the same room with her."

"So it's agreed. The thought of Mom being with anyone is enough to make us toss our Christmas cookies," Remy said, standing at the windows. "But how would we feel about watching two men actually fight over her? Look! These guys are duking it out! Get over here! Is that Vincent?"

Beau and Kerri ran to the front windows, looking out into the yard.

"Now this is entertainment!" Remy said, practically pressing his face to the glass.

Vincent Guthrie had Father Bartlett in a headlock, the priest stumbling over his own feet as Vincent dragged him around the snow-covered lawn. "You think you can just move in on Giselle!" he shouted, the sound carrying into the house where the others were watching.

Father Bartlett ducked out of Vincent's grasp, fading back, then springing in to clock Vincent in the jaw. Vincent's feet flew out from beneath him, as he landed hard in the snow.

"We have to stop this!" Kerri said, covering her mouth in horror as she watched the violence.

"Vincent's going to get himself killed," Beau said.

"No! Please! This is too good!" Remy begged, chasing after Beau to no avail.

 

St. Laurent Community Hospital

With Martine's contractions coming more and more frequent now, Charlie took the opportunity to slip out to the hall during a brief intermission. She was officially going into labor, so he desperately tried calling Tyson again. No luck. He tried Josie too, then cursed to himself, wondering if he'd ever get through to either of them.

His options exhausted, Charlie called Beau, hoping his family wasn't still waiting on him to show up for Christmas dinner.

"Hello?"

"Beau, it's Charlie. Sorry to keep you guys waiting," he apologized immediately.

"Don't worry about it. We haven't even eaten yet."

"What?" Charlie asked, confused. He looked at his watch. He was already over an hour late.

"It's been ... a weird day. Mom left to check on something at the Highwind, so we haven't done much of anything except sit around all afternoon. That, and watch your father get his ass handed to him by a Catholic priest."

Charlie blinked, blank-faced. He wasn't sure he heard Beau right, but his brother continued, "It's a long story, but a priest came here to talk to Mom, then Vincent showed up and decided to jump the guy. I think they were fighting over her?"

"Well, isn't that ... disturbing..." Charlie commented. "Is my dad okay?"

"He'll live," Beau said, barely managing to care. "So, are you coming or what?"

Charlie looked back to Martine's hospital room. "I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"What? It's Christmas! You have to come..."

"I want to, but I'm at the hospital with Martine. We've been here all afternoon. I think she's going to have her baby, and her boyfriend's not here."

"There's nobody else that can do this with her?" Beau asked, sad that Charlie was missing out.

"Not really, no. It was kind of unexpected, and we haven't been able to get a hold of anyone else..."

Just then, Charlie heard a beep, and looked down at the phone in his hand. His eyes lit up, and he returned to his call with Beau. "Hey! I'm getting another call. It's Tyson! I'll have to call you back, all right?"

"Okay! Later!"

Charlie immediately switched to Tyson's call. "Tyson! Thank God, man!"

"I just got your message! I'm a total blockhead. I left my cell phone in the car all day. Is Martine all right? Is she really having the baby?"

"She's in labor as we speak. I don't know how much longer you have."

"I'm already on my way," Tyson promised.

"What should I tell her? I mean, how soon will you be here?" Charlie asked, looking into the hospital room's window. He caught Martine's eye and pointed to the phone, giving her a thumbs up.

"I -- I don't know. A couple of hours? Maybe two, if I speed."

"What!" Charlie cried.

"I'm at my parents' house. They don't live in St. Laurent." Tyson sighed in frustration. "Look, I'm driving as fast as I can. I just hope I'm fast enough."

They said their goodbyes, and Charlie looked back to Martine, who was beginning another series of contractions. It wouldn't be much longer now, he guessed. Two hours was suddenly an awfully long way off.

 

Ormand Manor

In her dream with Gerard, Giselle Ormand watched the current events unfolding at Ormand Manor. Beau and Remy broke up the fight on the lawn, a fight between Vincent and Father Bartlett, strangely enough. Vincent beat a quick retreat to his car and fled the scene, while the boys helped Liam, the obvious victor in this scuffle, back to the house.

"See? If only you would have been there, none of this would have happened." Gerard Ormand looked to his former wife with a smile.

"This has nothing to do with me. I can't control Vincent's behavior. He got what he deserved, and from the look of things, Liam is certainly capable of holding his own..."

Beau and Remy settled Liam into kitchen chair. Kerri handed him a dampened cloth, and Liam dabbed the blood on his cheek.

"Man, you really nailed him!" Remy enthused, clapping a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Yeah," Beau said, scratching his head. "You really clobbered him."

Liam chuckled to himself. "Before I decided to devote my life to the Lord, I was a fighter."

Everyone's jaws dropped. "You're joking, right?" Kerri wasn't sure if she was supposed to be laughing.

He pulled out a necklace from beneath his priest's collar. A pair of silver boxing gloves on a chain. "Irish Amateur Boxing Association. Runner-up Junior Middleweight."

Remy inspected his silver gloves medallion in disbelief. "This? Is the awesomest thing ever! Vincent was way in over his head."

"He's lucky he got a single hit in on you," Beau agreed.

Father Liam simply laughed, wincing a bit as the cut on his cheek split open again.

Remy ran to the stove, returning with a mug of warm cider. "Here, have some of this." He handed the cup to Liam, who still managed to choke down a sip after realizing what he was drinking. "In a minute or two, you won't even feel the pain anymore."

"Thanks..." the priest said hesitantly.

"He actually drank it!" Remy nudged Beau and Kerri. Turning back to Liam, he said, "You're the coolest! Will you please date my mom?"

"Don't wish that on him, Remy," Beau said. "He's too well-adjusted for her."

"I'm also still sitting here ... in the same room as you," he reminded them as they talked about him. "Your mother is a lovely woman, but my calling is to my church and my parishioners."

Remy sighed, lowering his head in disappointment.

"I don't see why you boys are so hard on your mother."

"Because she's never here! She's never been there for us, except as an afterthought to whatever's going on at the Highwind. Today is another perfect example of that."

"She does the best she can," Liam said, defending Giselle. "She's a busy woman. A powerful woman, with many different priorities."

Beau rolled his eyes. He'd heard it all before.

Father Bartlett looked to him and said, "When she was on the run, your mother came to the church with nowhere else to turn. She knows she's kept you all at a distance. She knows she's hurt you in the past and that you find it hard to trust in her," he said. "But she came back here for you. She was so adamant about returning to St. Laurent to be with her children, first and foremost."

"If that's true, then where is she?" Beau asked. "Why isn't she here with us now?"

"Damn, you really did a number on that one, didn't you?" Gerard said, standing behind Giselle and resting his hands on her shoulders. He forced her to face Beau, to see the hurt expression on her son's face. "All he wants is to spend time with you. One day without any interruptions, but you couldn't even give him that."

"I'm sorry, I have a business to take care of too, you know. My guests at the Highwind depend on me, just the same as my children. Are you saying I should neglect them?" Giselle said, bitter.

Gerard shrugged. "It's up to you, I suppose. Though I don't see how a power outage at the X-Limit, a business that has yet to open, should be an immediate concern."

"Well, I didn't exactly plan on getting knocked unconscious today. I could have been home by now if you hadn't taken me on this enlightening little journey of yours."

"You needed to see what it's like for your children. I know your business is an important part of your life. It's who you are. But if you love your family, if you really care for them, they'd know how important they are to you, too."

"Oh, they're fine! They know I care for them. Sure, Beau's a little upset today, but he's always been high-strung," Giselle argued. "Remy's been doing a lot better since I returned. Our relationship has improved tremendously!"

"Is that why he's drunk at two p.m. on Christmas Day? Have you ever considered that he might be using drugs and alcohol as a substitute for the affection he's missed out on his entire life?" Gerard asked thoughtfully. "And what of Charlie? It seems he didn't show up today. Did you even invite him? It wouldn't surprise me if you forgot all about him. Hasn't that been the story his entire life?"

"Enough of this psychobabble! You've been dead for twenty years. You have no idea what my family is like or what I've been through with my children! It's easy for you to judge me. Our children barely remember you as it is, and you criticize me, saying I haven't been there for them?"

"Fair enough," Gerard said, calm in the face of her wrath. "You're right, Giselle. But that's the reason I'm here showing you all of this."

Giselle folded her arms in front of her, trying to restrain herself after getting so wound up by Gerard.

"I'm trying to help you, because you still have a chance to make things right with them."

Giselle looked over her shoulder, indifferent to his analysis. She didn't need his help, but her curiosity got the best of her. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"That's up to you to decide," she heard him say. But when she turned to face him again, there was nothing. No Gerard, no Ormand Manor ... just a stark, white, empty dreamworld.

 

St. Laurent Community Hospital

Charlie held Martine's hand and brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. Close to an hour and a half had passed since Charlie spoke to Tyson, but if the baby was coming right now, there was no way he could make it in time for the delivery. And against Martine's will, it looked as if this child was on its way.

"Push, Martine!" her doctor coached.

"No!" Martine fought, her breathing heavy and short. She latched on to Charlie's hand, tighter than ever as the pain grew more intense. "Charlie, I don't want to have this baby!" she said, crying as she pleaded with him. "I can't have it yet!"

Charlie's heart dropped. He didn't know what else he could do but be there for her.

"When I had Josie, I was all alone. It was the scariest thing I'd ever had to do. With Tyson, I thought we'd both be here. This time, I thought we'd be together for this. That's all I wanted!" she said, her words devolving into groans as she pushed.

"You're not alone, Martine," Charlie said, knowing the baby would be there any minute. He spoke quickly, hoping to reassure her. "We'll get through this together, even if Tyson doesn't make it. I'm here for you. You don't have to do it alone this time."

He wasn't sure Martine was even listening. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she cried out as she pushed harder.

"One last push, Martine! Just one more push!" the obstetrician called out.

Martine cried out but gave in, obeying the doctor's wishes instead of fighting them.

The baby arrived, announcing its presence as crying echoed throughout the hospital room. It took every effort for Charlie to listen to the crying and to not think of Summer. But this wasn't about Charlie, or even about Summer. This was Martine's moment, and as much as he felt he was invading something so personal, he felt privileged to be there.

While the doctors got the baby swaddled and cleaned up, Martine sank back to her bed, exhausted. She was completely drained.

"Would you like to see him?" The baby was placed in Martine's arms, as she happily accepted. "It's a boy," the nurse said.

Martine held him close, looking down in wonder at his blotchy, beautiful little face. "Tyson's lucky this baby is so cute, or I'd be way more pissed at him for standing me up."

"I'm sure he wanted to be here."

"Oh, I know," Martine conceded, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to use his guilt to my advantage for the next ten years or so," she said, waggling a finger in front of her new son's smiling face.

 

A Nursing Home

When Giselle Ormand opened her eyes, she was no longer in the white vacuum of her mind. Somehow, she found herself in bed, but something was off. She didn't recognize this room, or its cheap decor. Was this real?

She went to sit up, but she felt weighed down. She was stiff and tired, achy all over. She felt ... old. "What the hell is going on here?" she rasped.

"Well, if it isn't Giselle Ormand!" a woman's voice chirped. "Looking even older and more decrepit than usual, if that's possible."

Monique Champlain stood in the doorway. She glared at Giselle, the two women evenly matched in their disdain for one another.

"You? Of all the people in my life ... you?" Giselle questioned.

"I'm your Christmas Future, bitch! Don't tell me you weren't expecting it. By now, you should know that I'd take any assignment that comes up, any chance I can get to continue pestering you from the Great Beyond."

"But I'm not even the one who killed you! Can't you go bother Erin Emery, or something?"

"You may not have been the one to kill me, but that didn't stop you from making my life a living hell. I'm just returning the favor."

"Whatever you think you're here to 'teach' me ... you can shove it," Giselle muttered, willing herself out of whatever world she was in now ... whatever reality it was in which she was forced to interact with Monique, of all spirit guides.

"Sorry, you're not getting off so easily," Monique said, relishing Giselle's annoyance.

"Then why are you here?" Giselle said, hoping to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. "Go ahead, show me whatever it is I'm supposed to see."

"Oh, Giselle," Monique sighed, sitting at the edge of Giselle's bed. "That's the whole point. There is nothing for me to show you."

Giselle was confused. If Monique wasn't here to teach her some sappy life lesson, then what the hell was going on?

"Come, come. Let's go for a little walk, and I'll explain."

Giselle climbed out of bed, stepped to the floor, then immediately collapsed to the ground in a heap. She landed hard on her hip, a throbbing pain shooting down her body.

"Oopsie, I forgot to mention that in your advanced age, you haven't been able to walk for years now. The future sucks, doesn't it?" Monique smirked. She reached down and helped lift Giselle, settling her into a wheelchair.

"You did that on purpose," Giselle spat.

Monique giggled and shrugged, taking the handles of Giselle's wheelchair and rolling her into the hall of the nursing home. A few other folks lingered in the hallway -- confused elderly people chatting away to themselves or searching for their own rooms. Giselle ignored them as Monique carted her down the hall.

They entered the nursing home's entry lobby. It was decorated for Christmas, a sad, sparse-looking evergreen in one corner. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular. I can't stand the smell of old people, so I thought we'd go outside," Monique said.

"Aren't we supposed to check in on my family? I'm supposed to see how bad off they are, and you're supposed to convince me to change my ways, right?"

Monique looked offended. "Don't tell me how to do my job!" The doors to the nursing home opened automatically, and Monique pushed Giselle outside. A light dusting of snow covered the lawn, but the sidewalks were cleared. "Ahh. Finally some fresh air."

"Where is my family?" Giselle asked, scoping out her surroundings. "It's Christmas Day, right? Where are they?"

"They don't visit you anymore. Nobody's coming to see you today."

Giselle took in this information in silence.

"Is it really that hard to believe? The only reason they ever paid attention to you was out of some misguided sense of obligation. Now that you're stashed away in this nursing home, you hold no power over them. Your children were afraid of you. That's the only reason they ever pretended to care. They're glad to be rid of you."

"That's nonsense," Giselle repeated. "They love me. I know I frustrate them, but they love me."

"Maybe once upon a time," Monique said. "But things change. Beau's got his own family to deal with now, not to mention the Highwind. It took him over thirty years, but he's finally given up on you completely. To be honest, he's never been happier."

"Good for him," Giselle said, unconcerned. She knew she could always win Beau back if she really tried. He could be stubborn, but he was too loyal for his own good. "What about Charlie and Remy? Do they hate me too in this reality?"

"I'm sure they hate you in every reality," Monique said, snottily. "But you have no reason to be concerned for those two anymore. Charlie went missing about ten years ago. Nobody really knows what happened to him, but everyone has their theories..."

"And what's your theory?"

"Well, the most popular one -- the one I believe -- is that he found Erin. People say he tracked her down and left town to be with her again. Crazy or not, that murderous bitch was his true love."

"Great," Giselle frowned. "So I've got one son who refuses to visit me, and another who's vanished off the face of the earth. Tell me about Remy now."

"Dead. Drove his car off a bridge after a drinking binge," Monique said, bowing her head. "What a waste..."

"You're just making things up now!" Giselle said, certain Monique must be lying.

"Does it really sound that far-fetched?"

"I don't believe you," Giselle said, praying, hoping that what Monique claimed wasn't the truth. Though she knew this was just a grim, nightmare of a future, imagining her youngest son had died was just too much to bear. "How is hearing this supposed to help me? How is this supposed to make me a better person? Are you saying if I play nice, my children won't die or desert me?"

"Who can say? This is only one of many possible futures. But it's the future that's going to occur if you continue down the path you've been traveling."

"I happen to like the path I'm traveling," Giselle said, defiant.

"Suit yourself," Monique shrugged. "But don't say this wasn't a warning. Your sons need you. They might not believe it, and you might not believe it, but you need each other."

Monique released the handles of Giselle's wheelchair. She shoved the older woman down the nursing home's long drive, rolling her toward the street. "Enjoy the 'path' you've chosen!" Monique called out, waving goodbye as Giselle's wheelchair hurtled out of control.

They don't visit you anymore ... Nobody's coming to see you ... They're glad to be rid of you ...

And now nobody was going to save her, either.

That was the last thought Giselle had before she rolled into the busy street and was sideswiped by the oncoming traffic.

 

St. Laurent Community Hospital

Giselle's eyes shot open. She bolted upright in bed. Gathered in her hospital room were Beau, Remy, Kerrigan, and Elena. "What are you all doing here?" she gasped, clutching her sheets. "What am I doing here?"

Beau approached her bedside, speaking gently. "Elena says you had an accident at the X-Limit. Something fell on you, and she had to call the paramedics to bring you here."

Giselle remembered now. She'd almost forgotten her accident entirely after an eventful day traipsing around with her spirit guides. But she was back to reality, and she couldn't have been happier to see her family after the bleak picture Monique Champlain had painted of the future.

"I'm so happy to see all of you!" Giselle said, sighing with relief. Maybe the future was bleak, but for now, the people she loved were safe and sound. If that was the future, maybe she could change things. Somehow, she'd have to...

"You're happy to see us?" Elena questioned. "Are you sure your concussion didn't knock some screws loose?"

"Yeah ... something seems off," Remy agreed.

"We were wondering where you'd run off to," Beau said. "We didn't know if we'd get to spend Christmas with you at all."

"I'm sorry. I've gone and ruined the holiday for everyone," Giselle said.

"No you haven't. Not at all," Kerri said with a warm smile. "We're together, and that's all that matters."

"When did you turn into such a cheeseball?" Charlie Guthrie asked, appearing in the door to his mother's hospital room. He wrapped an arm around Kerri's shoulders in greeting, then he hugged his brothers, as well. "Hey, Mom. Sorry to hear about what happened, but at least this way I get to see all of you today."

"Charlie's been at the hospital all afternoon with Martine. She went into labor," Beau explained to Giselle.

Giselle came close to making a snide remark about Martine on her back all day with her legs spread, but managed to refrain at the last minute. She was trying to turn a new leaf, after all.

"Well, it's certainly been an eventful day, hasn't it?" she asked instead, trying to ignore the dull ache at the back of her skull.

While the family caught up with one another, Giselle's doctor came to deliver some news. "Ms. Ormand, you're going to be fine. You can leave the hospital whenever you feel up to it, but I advise you to take it easy for a few days."

"She doesn't know how to take it easy," Elena said, the words managing to sound like something near a compliment. "Don't worry, Giselle. I'll have someone take care of that electrical issue first thing tomorrow morning. You should go be with your family today."

"Thanks, Elena," Giselle said sincerely.

"Why don't you join us?" Remy said to her, as the others in the room drew a collective intake of breath. The idea of inviting Elena to a family function was like a train speeding into a wall. "Oh, come on people! It's Christmas! Have some heart."

"I -- I couldn't," Elena stammered, embarrassed.

Giselle had the final say. "We would be happy to have you," she finally allowed. The entire time she was away from St. Laurent, it was Elena who kept the Highwind running. Giselle knew she couldn't forgive Vincent, but for the sake of the Highwind, she knew she had to try to bury the hatchet with Elena. Maybe this was a step in the right direction.

"That reminds me! A friend of yours stopped by the house," Beau said, removing Father Bartlett's gift from the pocket of his jacket. "A priest. He couldn't stay, but he left this for you."

Giselle turned the package over in her hands. "Liam?" She opened the present carefully and removed it from it's box. "It's a rosary. And look! A sapphire! My birthstone," she commented. "How did he know?"

"Ooh, looks expensive!" Elena commented, hovering over Giselle's shoulder. "So what's the story, is this guy hot or what? Because he must be totally into you if he bought you that."

"He is not into me. He's into Jesus," Giselle said, flustered.

"Someone's blushing!" Remy teased.

The family laughed around Giselle's bedside. She squeezed the rosary firm in her hand. As strange as her Christmas had turned out to be, this moment with her family made it worth all the trouble.