Just as I'm beginning to finally make some headway with Vanessa, my phone rings.

I groan aloud, and Vanessa giggles at me.

"Go ahead and answer it. It might be important," she tells me, and I smile in return. She's so understanding. Dawn would have murdered me for just looking at my phone on a date.

We've been at the lodge bar for awhile now, slowly getting to know each other. I learned that Vanessa hates peas, she loves coffee and energy drinks, and she used to do a little musical theater in high school. She didn't get her driver's license until she was nineteen, and she prefers football over basketball. She's lived in the Atlanta metropolitan area her whole life, but absolutely hates sweet tea. When I asked her how she could hate sweet tea, being a southern girl, she rolled her eyes, laughed and said, "It's basically cold syrup."

"Chris Peters," I growl into the phone upon picking up. I really want to get back to my date.

"Oh. H — hi Chris. I'm so sorry to bother you..."

"No, no. I thought you were someone else," I interrupt, feeling guilty for my snippy tone.

"It's no problem. Hey, we just wanted to know what time you'll be here tonight? The kids are asking," Bill Cohen inquires.

Shit. I forgot.

"Oh, um..." I glance at Vanessa seated across the table from me. She's looking at the TV above us, her hand underneath her chin as she watches a football game. "I'll be there soon," I answer, and hang up the phone.

Vanessa looks back at me, expectantly.

"Do you need to be somewhere?" She asks, a smidge of disappointment in her tone.

"I'm afraid so," I say with a grimace.

She smiles warmly at me anyway, and reaches for her jacket.

"Oh, you're coming with me," I tell her with a smirk, as I stand from our booth. Shrugging my coat back on, I hold out a hand to help her up.

She takes it, her mouth turning down into a frown.

"Where are we going?"

I offer her my arm as we head out of the lodge and back to the car.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out," I say, flashing her an award-winning smile.

"Whatever you say, Peters," she smiles, and I can't help the excitement that I feel in the pit of my stomach when she calls me by my last name.

I grin at her.

"What?" She says, still smiling.

"I like when you call me that."

"Oh well, don't get too used to it. You insisted I call you Chris, remember?" She points out, and I mentally kick myself.

"I do," I say begrudgingly, and she laughs.

***

We park in the garage of Egleston Hospital in Atlanta, and I grab a giant red, velvet bag out of my trunk before taking Vanessa's hand as we walk to the entrance.

"What are we doing at CHOA? Is there something you're not telling me, like the fact that you might be Santa?" Vanessa questions with a sly smile, gesturing to the velvet bag I'm carrying.

I just smile, and shake my head.

"Something like that."

She purses her lips, unsatisfied with my response, as I lead the way to the elevators, and up to the third floor.

"I hope you like music," I say to her, before the elevator doors open.

"Chriiiisss!" comes a shrill voice.

A little girl, about seven, runs towards me with her arms wide open. Her red, curly hair flies behind her as the reindeer antlers on top of her head blink a bright red and green.

"Sally!" I exclaim back to her, placing the bag full of gifts on the ground behind me in an attempt at hiding them, and crouch down to scoop her up.

She giggles wildly, and I catch a glimpse of Vanessa's face out of the corner of my eye; she looks surprised.

I place Sally back on her feet, and she peers up at me.

"Chris, we saved your guitar for you. It's in Mrs. Nancy's room!" She informs me, and I glance at Vanessa, who's now smiling at me.

"I'm glad you kept it safe for me," I say. "Why don't you round everyone up in Mrs. Nancy's room, and I'll play it for you?"

Sally's face turns down into a frown, and she crosses her arms in front of her.

"Chris? Who's your pretty lady friend?" She asks, looking at Vanessa.

I turn my head to Vanessa, encouraging her to introduce herself. She eyes me warily, but stoops down to Sally's level and offers her a handshake with a smile.

"Hi Sally. My name is Vanessa," she greets her.

Sally ignores her hand, pooches her bottom lip out, and looks back to me.

"Chris? I thought I was your only girlfriend," Sally explains, and I almost choke on my own saliva.

Vanessa laughs.

"It's okay Sally," she starts. "When Chris plays his guitar for us, you can sit with him. Deal?" Vanessa offers out her hand once more.

Sally looks at me, then back at Vanessa, a smile finally breaking through the frown on her face.

"Deal." And she shakes her hand.

She runs back to one of the rooms, all the while shouting, "Everyone, everyone! Chris is here to play for us!"

Vanessa stares at me.

I stare back.

"Okay. Enough with the googly eyes. You're starting to freak me out," I say, and she swats me on my arm with a giggle.

"I didn't know you played guitar," she inserts as we walk to Nancy's room.

"I didn't know you did theater in high school," I shoot back, and she blushes.

"I guess there's a lot we don't know about each other."

"Hence, the date," I say with a wink.

We enter Mrs. Nancy's room where all of the kids are rounded up, playing with toys, and puzzles; laughing with each other and enjoying the holiday spirit.

"Oh thank goodness you made it." Bill Cohen, the CHOA (or Children's Healthcare of Atlanta) activities coordinator approaches us when we enter the room.

"The children have been asking for you all day." He takes the bag of toys from my hand, gives me a pat on the back, and greets Vanessa with a hug.

"My, you're gorgeous," he says to her as she returns his hug.

"Alright old man, rein it back a little," I say jokingly to Bill.

He chuckles at me, and winks at Vanessa before hiding the bag of toys in one of the closets.

CHOA has held a special place in my heart over the years; I come here to play music to the kids who've been diagnosed with leukemia, lymphoma and other types of cancer. Some children, like Sally, were diagnosed immediately, and the doctors were able to start treatment early on. Others, like Abbot, who's only five, have been hospitalized for a long time, and will continue to be for the rest of their lives.

It's too sad to dwell on, so I come here to lift their spirits by playing and singing (not very well), and by bringing gifts.

"Oh Chris. Bless your heart, you are the kindest man alive," Nancy, Bill's wife, greets me with a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek. "It's so sweet that you do this every year."

Vanessa grins at me, and squeezes my arm.

"And who's this?" Nancy questions, looking at my date.

"Hi, I'm Vanessa," she smiles kindly at the elderly woman. She reaches her hand out, but Nancy bypasses it completely and wraps her into her arms.

"Oh honey, I'm from southern Georgia. We don't do handshakes," she says as she squeezes the life out of Vanessa.

She peers at me over Nancy's shoulder, her eyes wide.

I chuckle to myself.

Suddenly, I feel a tug at the bottom of my jeans.

"Chris? We're all ready to sing Christmas carols now!" Sally mentions, and gestures to the others while bouncing up and down excitedly, who've gathered on the floor in a half circle.

"Oh you are?" I say to her, and the children giggle. "Well, where's my guitar? I can't do it without old Sheila."

"It's over there! Right there!" The children exclaim in various tones, and I smile at them as Bill hands me my guitar.

"Oh thank the good Saint Nick!" I say dramatically, and the kids snicker again.

Sally plops down next to me as I begin to strum a familiar tune on my instrument, and the children start to sing along.

"You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry. You'd better not shout, I'm tellin' you why,"

The kids are joyous, and sway back and forth in their Christmas pajamas.

"Santa Claus is comin' to town!"

After the song is over, the children applaud.

"Another, another!" They shout.

"Guys," I say in a hushed tone. "Did you know that I brought a singer with me today?"

I glance at Vanessa, who sits off to the side with little Abbot in her lap in one of the animal sticker covered rocking chairs.

Her eyes grow wide, and she scrunches her brows together while she shakes her head; pleading me.

The kids shake their heads simultaneously.

"Oh yes. Miss Vanessa. She has a beautiful voice," I explain. "What do you think? Should we make her sing with us?" I say, grinning at her.

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What did you think of Chrinessa's first date? How do you think it's going so far? Let me know in the comments!

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