MADE TO BE BROKEN

 by Sarah2

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant…

From his spot at the front of the church, he watched them walk in.

First came the choirboys in their white robes. They held their candles with two hands in front of them, like an offering. Next came the altar boys, followed by Father Tomas. After them, the rest of the parishioners, holding candles, singing.

O, come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem…

Ray loved this service. He'd seen midnight mass done like this in Europe once, and had talked Father T into trying it here this Christmas.

It wasn't quite like seeing an entire village climb a steep path to the doors of the church, but the feeling was the same. All those faces bathed only in candlelight, singing songs of joy.

Promise me, Ray. Promise me.

No. Not tonight, please.

Come and behold Him, born the King of Angels…

He saw Danny come in with Michelle. The Santos success story. Mick had always been a disaster waiting to happen. And Pilar - well, Pilar had been so sheltered for so long, he wasn't sure she'd ever know a normal relationship. But these two - he'd known from the moment he'd met her that Michelle would be able to hold her own with his cousin. Ray was convinced that divine provenance had brought them together. He believed in that. After all, God had brought him to the church, given him a home.

Hadn't God brought Maria, too?

O come let us adore Him.
O come let us adore Him…

Danny had brought Michelle around to the church last week. They were helping him get ready for the party St. Michael's threw every year for the underprivileged children of the parish. He'd never seen two people happier to be enjoying their first Christmas together.

Almost never.

Michelle had turned out to be an expert wrapper, but poor Danny had wasted so much paper and tape on the first box, that they'd finally handed him a string of brightly colored lights and sent him off to help deck the halls.

Later, he'd sneaked up on his wife with a sprig of mistletoe and kissed her soundly. When they were leaving, Danny had whispered to him that he had some news. Looking at them now, sharing a secret smile, he thought he might know what the news could be.

Can you be happy for them, Ray?

Yes, of course.

Really?

Sing, choirs of angels. Sing in exultation…

Close to the back of the processional, Drew Jacobs walked in with her "brother", Max. She was smiling, too. Having a family sure seemed to agree with her.

Max had been in one of Father T's groups a couple of years back. Ray remembered a smart mouth kid who'd gone through more big brothers than he could count. He hoped Drew's faith in the kid wasn't misplaced.

He noticed, too, that her ever-present shadow, Jesse Blue, wasn't here tonight. Good. A priest wasn't supposed to think this way, but he'd always thought she deserved better. Seeing her now, standing beside Max, he began to hope she was finding it.

She must have felt his eyes on her, because just then she looked up at him - and winked.

Ray's face flushed crimson. He looked away, as Father Tomas joined him at the front of the church.

Come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.

After the mass was over, Ray stood in the vestibule with the good Father, shaking hands with parishioners as they left the church. Drew came out almost immediately, dragging her brother by the arm. She stopped in front of him and Ray extended his hand to Max, who stood looking at it.

"Merry Christmas you two."

"Max!" Drew punched her brother lightly on the arm and he gave Ray a limp handshake. Drew reached over then, squeezing a little too hard. Nervous. Apologetic.

"Thank you for inviting us. It was a beautiful service."

"I seem to remember inviting Jesse, too. Where is he tonight?"

Dumb, Ray. Why ask questions you don't really want the answers to?

Drew laughed. "He said he needed tonight to finish wrapping some special presents for Max and me. And he's probably not packed for New York yet. I promise to drag him along next time."

What did you expect? Oh, Father, he ran off and left me on Christmas Eve?

Ray looked past her and saw Danny and Michelle making their way over to him. His cousin had a protective arm around his wife. She had one arm draped over her stomach. Both of them smiling. Michelle luminous.

Promise me, Ray.

Can you be happy for them?

No, not tonight. He turned, excusing himself, and practically ran back into the sanctuary.

Promise me.

No, Maria, please. I kept all my other promises. Isn't that enough?

Ray walked to the front of the church and left through the sacristy, entering the recreation room by a side door. He didn't turn on the lights, just sat in the dark next to the tree the youth group had decorated.

You can't hide in here forever.

Yes, I can.

"Ray?"

See?

But it wasn't Danny or Michelle who stood in the doorway."What's wrong?" She moved closer to him in the darkness.

"You've always been a good friend to me. Please let me help you now."

Tell her, Ray. She may be the one.

I can't.

"Where's Max?"

"Danny and Michelle took him home."

You promised.

He had always kept his promises. From the very beginning.

He met Maria on his sixteenth birthday - their sixteenth birthday, it turned out.

His whole family was celebrating at Towers. Everyone was there: his mom and dad, all his cousins, Aunt Carmen and Uncle Mike, Uncle Frederico (with his girlfriend of the moment). They were in the private party room. Aunt Carmen had stood up to make the toast, when they heard singing coming from the dining room next to them. The waiters and waitresses were gathered around a table, holding one of those little complementary birthday cakes, singing to a blonde girl in a party hat.

She didn't look embarrassed in the least, even sang along with them, clapping with the rest of the crowd in the restaurant when they were done. At the time, he couldn't imagine anyone in his family subjecting themselves to that kind of attention. Now, of course, he thought they'd all been delusional to think that no one had been watching.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. He was staring at her, but he couldn't seem to help himself. When she saw him, she blushed, but didn't look away. At least not at first. Later, he got up the courage to ask her name. Then her phone number.

Surprisingly, his parents hadn't objected to his dating Maria. They even seemed to like her. Two years later, when he had told them they planned to marry the minute they both got out of high school, his father had exploded.

"Your obligation is to this family! There will be no marriage. We take care of business first…" and so on and so on, till Ray had stormed out of the house, his mother following behind him, crying, muttering in Spanish.

He'd spent the night with Maria and her parents. They had gone to a justice of the peace the morning of their eighteenth birthday, three month's shy of graduation.

Maria had been terrified of his family and it's "business". He had promised her he'd get out, and he had.

When the threats started, when the family had sent Danny to coerce him into returning to the fold, he promised Maria they would go away together. Within a month, they were living in a small village on the coast of Greece.

He'd gotten a job on one of the fishing boats. The hours were long, the work was grueling. He had never been happier.

Except that one time. He remembered the smell of the air that day. The feel of the sea breeze on his skin. The look on her face when he'd come through the door of the little house they called home.

They had been so excited. Stayed up all that night talking, planning.

The house had only one bedroom, so the baby's crib would have to sit next to their bed for now. Later, when they had a little more money, they would find a bigger place to live.

The next months were the best time of his life. The most wonderful woman in the world was going to have his baby, and he was going to be the best father that this world had ever seen.

It was more than ironic that she'd died because he had kept his promises to her.

The two of them had gone to the village's only hospital when the time came. Maria had eaten just what her doctor had told her, done the exercises he had recommended, got plenty of rest like he said to do.

She had been so calm that day. She sent Ray off to work that morning with a kiss and a smile.

"Tonight's the night, honey. I know it."

The contractions had started an hour after he left. She tried to wait it out, not wanting to go to the hospital without him. After all, this was their first child. Finally, her neighbor had sent her husband to meet Ray's boat, and taken Maria to the hospital herself. Ray met them at the door to the emergency room, a complete wreck.

He was holding Maria's hand when the doctor came in to tell them that, although she was completely dilated, the baby wasn't dropping into position like he should. Her contractions weren't strong enough, and the little one's heart rate was dropping. They would have to take it by Cesarean section.

It would be alright. He'd done this hundreds of times. Their baby would be here in a matter of moments.

Antonio Raymond Santos was born 37 minutes before 9pm on December 30, 1995, badly brain damaged. He wasn't expected to live through the night.

An hour later, Maria was being prepped again for surgery. Her doctor was standing with another surgeon in a corner of the recovery room, confiding in worried whispers.

It looked as if she was bleeding internally. Though he assured Ray and Maria that she was "dry as a bone" when he'd sewn her up, now it was apparent she was still leaking blood into the uterus.

"We'll need to do a D & C. Maybe even a hysterectomy if we can't stop the hemorraghing."

Why was it doctors only used big words when they didn't want to tell you what was really going on? Maria signed the consent forms, and asked if she could please see their son before she had to go into surgery.

He heard one of the nurses try to muffle a gasp. Another left the room, crying softly.

When the pediatrician brought the baby in, Ray stood at the end of the bed weeping, watching her gently take him, kiss the top of his head, whisper to him, "Mommy will be right back. Be good for daddy while I'm gone."

Just before they wheeled her into surgery, Maria had made her husband promise that if anything happened to her, he would do everything in his power to give Antonio the life they had both wanted for him.

"Promise me, Ray. You'll find someone to love you and our son. Promise me if I'm gone you won't shut yourself off from the rest of the world."

She'd been so pale. He had promised, knowing it was meaningless, knowing she would be coming home with him. God had brought them together four years before. He would not take her away now, when they both needed each other so much.

It was hours later before someone came out and asked if Maria had a priest they could call.

"She's not Catholic. I am."

The doctors spoke afterwards about DIC. It wasn't common. They didn't have the resources here to handle it. If she'd had the baby at a big city hospital, in Athens perhaps, they might have been able to save her.

If they'd stayed in Springfield, a short distance from Chicago, Maria would be alive. If he hadn't kept his promises.

Maria and Antonio Santos were buried side by side in the little cemetary next to the church where they had celebrated Christmas mass days before.

Ray left on New Year's Day to return to the United States. His family learned never to talk about Maria or his time away. They pretended as if it had never happened. This was their way.

"What about her family?" Drew asked through her own tears.

"They still call every now and then. On her birthday. On Antonio's birthday. They're good people. They don't - hold anything against me."

They should. I do.

Drew takes his hand for the second time that Christmas.

"Will you come to my apartment for dinner today? Jesse has to leave early this evening for a show he's opening in New York on New Year's Day. Max and I will be on our own, and I've cooked enough for an army."

Ray stares at her fingers in his. Pale skin against his darker. Smooth against his rough.

Please, Ray. You promised me.

"Maybe," he says. "What time?"

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