Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

65. Alice

Chapter sixty-five

Alice

T he house Henry grew up in? Was a freaking beast .

The place could’ve been a bed and breakfast, and not one of those cutesy ones with three tiny attic bedrooms. Walking alongside Mother, Alice slowed her pace. She bundled the stack of sheets in one arm and kept one free in case Mother needed it. “Seven? Really?”

“On this floor.” Mother led her to the room across the hall from theirs and swung open the door. “This front bedroom is Robert’s, where he and Constance stay when they visit, and their boys share the adjacent one.”

“They don’t get their own?” Some days she would’ve killed for her own room as a kid. But when she’d gotten to college, she would’ve paid to have Ollie back. Her first-year roommate had known fuck-all about sharing respectfully.

“They do at home.” Mother pulled a just-for-looks pillow off the bed and began a stack on the bedside table. “They don’t visit overnight often enough for this house to feel like home.”

The pause in pillow-ferrying could have been fatigue, but the twist of Mother’s lips spoke of a different ache. Henry might be able to explain why he, the younger son and three hours away, was closer to his mom than the older brother who lived like an hour down the road. Alice hurried around to the far side of the bed. “It can be tough to fall asleep someplace new.”

Mother hummed softly. “Having someone familiar nearby is comforting when one wakes in the dark with the fear that the house and its strange noises yearn to devour them. And even then, it takes time. Two nights is hardly enough.”

Alice had slept easily enough last night, once they’d all gotten out their anxiety. The sheets felt like Henry’s, and Henry and Jay had been beside her. The room beyond and the sounds of the house settling didn’t matter so much. But she wasn’t a child. Or a new bride.

“You moved in here with Henry’s dad, right?” Alice shuffled pillows to the nightstand on her side and dragged back the quilt. The bare mattress sat underneath. She plopped the blue-gray plaid sheets at the corner. “Was it your first house together?”

“I did, and it was certainly not ours.” Laughing lightly, Mother pulled back the quilt at her side and walked to the foot of the bed. “Let’s shake this out, please. Closed-off rooms can be terrible dust-catchers.”

The bedspread smelled like flowers—sachets in the pillowcases, Mother confessed. After shaking out the quilt and draping it over a chair, Alice flung the fitted sheet across the bed. “Why wasn’t it yours?”

Mother hauled the corners on her side into place as efficiently as Alice did on the other side. If light housework was a strain, it didn’t show in her breathing or her movements.

“I was all of twenty-three when I moved here to marry Robert, and his grandmother ruled the house.” She held out a hand, and Alice tossed the top sheet across. “His parents had the room that is Henry’s now, and he and I had this one. His younger sisters were living at home and husband-hunting, and his bachelor uncle and widowed aunt had moved back in. Every meal was in the formal dining room.” The knit blanket topped the sheets, smoothed out and folded back before they stuffed the pillows in fresh cases. “His grandparents employed a full-time staff to keep the house in order. I decided nothing, not when I would wake or take breakfast or how I would spend my days. It was a significant change from growing up the only child of doting parents.”

“Sounds overwhelming.” Full-time staff? Being subject to her husband’s grandmother’s decisions? Yikes. She’d meant to steer the conversation toward Mother’s current medical issues while Henry was out. His perceptions were skewed by fear. With good reason, but still. They couldn’t help make smart decisions for Mother’s care if they didn’t know what she would need. “You’ve lived here ever since?”

“Ever since.” Mother sat primly on the edge of the bed while Alice fetched the quilt. “The years passed, and the household shrank. Weddings and burials left me in charge. Sooner than I’d expected, in truth. We’d dwindled to Robert and I, Lina, and the boys.”

“And now it’s just you.” Fuck, way to state the painfully obvious. She clutched the quilt to her stomach. “I’m sorry, that was—”

“Truthful.” Mother tugged Alice down beside her. “Most days, it is simply me in this rambling old showpiece. That doesn’t frighten me, darling. I have more than enough causes and hobbies to keep me nimble and entertained.” Tilting her head on Alice’s shoulder, she sighed. “I do miss the companionship. Henry’s father was an excellent debater, and our conversations were lively affairs. And Lina is the sister of my heart.”

Those two had seemed as cozy and gossipy as sisters during the tree-trimming yesterday. Which felt like it had to have been a week ago, with everything that had happened afterward. But other than that, what did she know about the woman? “Henry said she knitted his baby blanket. The one in the library?”

Mother gasped.

Alice tensed, every muscle in go mode. Her phone was in her pocket for emergencies. If her putting her foot in her damn mouth sent Henry’s mother to the hospital, they would have a whole lot more mending to do.

“Oh, she did, the wonderful sneak!” Mother clasped Alice’s hand, bouncing their hold gently on Alice’s knee. “I was paranoid, superstitious; I couldn’t bear to put together the nursery.”

What had Mother said last night? She’d been a woman with a six-year-old son and two other wrenching pregnancies behind her. Carrying Henry would have been terrifying. “That must have been incredibly hard—wanting him so much and being afraid to hope.”

Mother nodded slowly, her hand fierce around Alice’s. “I hope you never have cause to know the feeling, darling girl.”

They breathed in silence, deep and steady. Seconds ticked by, the house around them still. Alice swallowed the rising tide of questions, the fears and expectations, the unknown future for Mother, for herself, for Henry and Jay. Life wasn’t always linear. Sometimes she couldn’t know what would be until she got there.

Sitting up straight, Mother disentangled their hands and brushed hers down her black slacks. “Lina was my salvation. When we brought Henry home, she was waiting with the blanket she’d made him and a nursery ready to receive him.”

Lina had the hallmarks of an excellent planner. And an even better friend. That had possibilities. “You’ve known each other a long time.”

“Oh yes.” Mother pushed to her feet, and Alice handed her a corner of the quilt. “When I was pregnant with Henry’s brother, Robert’s grandmother declared it time to look for a nanny.” As they pulled the quilt up the bed, Mother’s side-eye spoke whole encyclopedias. “She preferred matronly women with decades of experience. I resisted for weeks. And finally Lina arrived for an interview. She was so green—the position would be her first out of high school, though she provided extensive babysitting references. Robert’s grandmother was aghast.”

“Is that why you picked her?” Interfering relatives could all pull a massive fuck-you from the grab bag of I don’t give a shit about your opinions . Starting with Jay’s oldest sister.

“I can’t say I wasn’t tempted, but no, I did have other reasons.” With the quilt smoothly tucked around the pillows, Mother waved Alice toward the door. “We’ll do the boys’ beds next.”

“And then a break?” She offered Mother her arm, and the older woman took it, leaning more heavily than just politeness would demand. “Something restful?”

“Yes, and then a break. Thank you for making it sound like a question, darling.” Mother headed for the linen closet with small, careful steps.

“I learned that from Henry.” He could coax agreement and emotional revelations out of a stone. When he wasn’t busy being a stone about his own headspace. “The first time is a question. Or an invitation.”

“The sideways approach. He’s always been a clever boy. Subtle, intuitive.” Mother hummed as she pointed out the sheets for the twin beds. “That’s partly how I knew he’d been so rattled by my heart trouble. He stopped asking questions and began making changes without including me.”

“Like the tea.” Pouring water yesterday at breakfast hadn’t seemed like something that would spark sniping.

“Mm-hmm. He was exceedingly displeased when the cardiac care team approved a small amount of daily caffeine. I’m fairly certain he believed they were trying to hasten my death.” A squint flashed across her face, her eyes like pale jade beads. Shaking her head, she turned to the next bedroom as Alice shut the closet behind them. “But he comes by it honestly. His father did the same, out of pain and fear. Though that was the time, too.”

Mother pushed open the door, and sunlight gleamed around the navy-blue curtains across from them. Alice hustled over and pushed them back, turning the room bright and cozy. “The time?”

Sitting on the bed nearer the door, Mother folded her arms across her chest. “Do you know, the doctors spoke to my husband more than they spoke to me? I was the patient, but I had very little say in my own care.”

“What the f—” Mother-in-law. She was speaking to her mother-in-law, for fuck’s sake. “I mean, that would be so frustrating.” Alice skimmed the quilt from the other bed and attacked the sheets. Blue, like the curtains. Henry would have to back off on the medical directives—and he’d need support and encouragement to get through the fear. Going to the market with Jay was a good start. “People looking past you, talking over you like you aren’t capable.”

“Devilishly so.” Rising, Mother ceded the second bed to Alice and perched on the completed first. She did seem more tired after helping. Or all the walking. “That’s why I hired her.”

Alice leapfrogged backward until she landed on the thought. “Lina?”

“I didn’t know then that it was agency I was seeking. But she addressed me in the interview. Not Robert’s grandmother— me. ” Mother thumped a finger against her collarbone, flashing the deep rose nails Lina had done for her yesterday. “She didn’t care about the pecking order, she was nearer my age, and I hungered for a friend. A hundred years and more of Robert’s family history weighed down every room in this house. His mother and grandmother parroted outdated advice at me whenever I did the slightest thing they felt unbecoming of the Webb name.” A heavy sigh flowed out of her, and she closed her eyes. Her smile tiptoed into place. “Lina immediately made herself a buffer. I’ve been attempting to repay her for forty-five years.”

“And she’s retired now?” Alice could have rushed through making the last bed, but giving Henry’s mom more time to sit before they had to walk again wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And she could ask more questions. “But still in good health, right?”

“Retired from managing the house here, yes.” Mother watched her, assessing like Henry, but her eyelids drifted shut more than once. “She receives copious amounts of exercise chasing after her grandchildren. That will keep anyone young.” Covering her mouth, she yawned silently. “Excuse me. I’m afraid I have reached the midmorning doldrums. What was I… Oh, Lina, yes. Her daughter appreciates her help immensely, and the girls love their oma. I’m certain I have pictures on my phone.”

“You can show me after you’ve taken a rest, okay?” The grandkids might be a dealbreaker to getting Lina back by Mother’s side full time, but the idea was worth suggesting to Henry. Mother would be comfortable with her friend keeping tabs on her. But letting Mother think it was her idea would be even better, and Henry was the master of that skill when he wasn’t having a panic attack. “Let’s get you comfortable in your room, and if you want to nap, you can, and if not, we can do something else.”

Alice pulled the quilt into place, the second bed the exact twin of the first, and nodded her satisfaction. Mother had pointed out the towel sets in the linen closet; she could add those to the guest baths later.

The walk to the primary bedroom took minutes, not seconds. But Mother didn’t want to lie on the bed, so the chair by the window it was. A few good shoves lined up a footrest to keep the blood circulating properly in her legs after all the standing and sitting. Alice draped the quilt from the bed over her—yards of fabric spilling out on either side—and crouched next to the seat.

“How about I bring you some water and strip the bed while you relax. Do you have winter sheets you want? Maybe a flannel set?” When they were little, she and Ollie had squealed with glee as the flannel sheets emerged for the season; flannel meant winter break and snow days weren’t far away. Henry didn’t seem to own a heavy winter collection for their bed—but they had Jay, and he was better than even an electric blanket.

“You are a dear.” Resting her head against the pillow perched on the deep armchair, Mother described a set of sheets with way too many words for green , the gist being green-and-white striped sheets with a solid green blanket. “The quilt can stay; it’s one of my favorite pieces.”

“It’s beautiful.” Someone had poured hours of love into making the cheerful squares. “So I’ll get started on the bed”—please let there only be one set of sheets like it, because if she had to recognize the nuances between balsam green and Kelly green, she’d for sure bring back the wrong ones—“and you have your phone, your sketchbook, and a nap if you want it.”

Mother laid a hand on her forearm. “Thank you, Alice. I do hope I haven’t given you a terrifying impression of all in-laws. I like you a great deal.” She tapped her fingers against Alice’s sleeve; a splotchy yellow bruise lingered on the back of her hand. “I love you, of course; I love you and Jay because Henry loves you, and the two of you make him very happy. But I also like you. You and Jay are such genuine souls. It’s a delight to get to know you. Perhaps after a rest, I’ll ask the questions?”

Terrified before, no. Terrified now? Enhhh, the teeter-totter was still tipping on that one.

“Well I hope I didn’t sound like I was interrogating you. I don’t mean to be a buttinski.” She’d hardly be relaxing Henry’s mom if she repeated Henry’s overprotective pattern, only more intrusive because Mother barely knew her. “Society tells me I should hate in-laws, or fight with them or something”—a little too accurate with some of Jay’s relatives—“but that’s not how I feel about you.”

“Our relationship can become whatever we want it to be.” Smiling wide, Mother scrunched her nose. “If you called me five times a day for advice, I would be surprised, but not displeased. And if you preferred to converse a few times a year, primarily about things that concern my son, I would be disappointed, as I have a daughter-in-law in that mold already, but I would understand.”

“Five calls a day would be a lot. I don’t bug Henry and Jay half that often.” Not even in text, but maybe she should start. Not every day. Just be a little more social. A little less assuming she’d be interrupting. She didn’t have the history with them she did with Ollie, talking her sister through high school and home life from the tiny holes of a flip phone. “Hey, how often does my sister message you?”

Mother tipped her head back and studied the ceiling. “Oh, two or three times a week, I suppose.”

Holy shit. Her sister talked to her mother-in-law a hell of a lot more than she did. What did they even have to talk about? “I hope it’s not a bother.”

“Not even a little bit.” Mother rubbed Alice’s arm briskly and aligned their gazes, her eyes gentle and soft. “The residency interviews have her nervous, poor girl.”

“She hasn’t said—” Wow, okay, was that jealousy? That sharp pang in her chest? Too complicated to unravel whether it hurt because Ollie had someone else to take her fears to or because Alice could’ve been confiding in a mom-figure for a month but hadn’t thought of it. “Sorry, you know what? It’s not my business.”

Mother’s low hum and stern gaze disagreed. Henry had inherited one hundred percent of that right there.

“I believe it’s my turn to be the…” Mother quirked her lips. “Buttinski, did you say?”

She couldn’t help the laugh. Nodding, she tried to get control of it.

“From what Henry has shared, I gather you and your sister grew quite close as children. I am sorry that was necessary.”

Her laugh dried up. The phone in her back pocket still hadn’t erupted with a response to her hey, let’s chat today—you free? message yet. “We went through some stuff, yeah.”

Mother brushed Alice’s hair back, tucking it behind her ear with a mostly steady hand. “Please don’t feel that I am attempting to usurp your role as surrogate parent, Alice. She hasn’t wanted to disrupt your honeymoon phase with her anxieties.”

Freaking martyrs, all of them. Her, Henry, Ollie. Somehow the world had flipped, and Jay was the most emotionally balanced of all the important people in her life. “It’ll be…” Too many confusing things to name, too much buzzing in her chest. “Strange. Getting used to not being the only person she comes to for advice and support. I guess that’s good, though.”

That was growth, right? Building a network, like they were doing with Will and Emma and their friends from the club. Like Henry always encouraged the incoming submissives to do. The intro classes meant they knew people beyond just the person who’d introduced them to the club. And now Emma’s pre-wedding sleepover had bridged the gap between Alice’s sister and Henry’s mom, which was… “It’s sweet, actually. Thank you for listening and helping her.”

“Of course.” Mother managed a half hug across the arm of the chair. “Truth be told, we have agreed that the three of you are so ludicrously in love that you will be honeymooning for the next fifty years.”

“I mean…” That didn’t sound so bad. In between arguing with each other to knock sense into their hard heads. “I wouldn’t say no to—”

Mother’s phone blared like an airhorn in her lap.

Alice jerked back on instinct. “Does that seem loud to you?”

“It does. Thankfully I haven’t lost my hearing to age just yet.” Mother fiddled with the volume button. “Jay suggested I turn the sound up before they left for the shops.”

“Is that him? We could change that notification sound.” She peeked over the armchair at the screen, rude and snoopy as all get-out. “Sorry.”

Mother scoffed. “I’m hardly expecting lewd missives from suitors, darling. You may look—and show me how to replace the noise. The message is…” She tapped into the texts, and a photo popped into view. “Endearing as ever. I quite enjoyed the photos the two of you sent yesterday during your tree excursion.”

Henry and Jay stood hemmed in by shopping carts, a sea of veggies behind them—but they both wore grins. “What’s it say?”

Mother exited the photo and held the screen steady.

Traffic jam in the grocery store! We could be stuck here for hours, with only all of this food to survive. How’s it going there?

Shit, Henry had to be on edge. “That’s a—”

“Request for a photo in return, yes. Shall we—”

“One sec.” Alice jogged to the bed and swept the blanket and top sheet into her arms, the overflow dragging around her feet as she made her way back. “What about you?”

Mother was already arranging her sketchbook in her lap and raising the phone. “Delightfully occupied. Smiles?”

“Smiles.” She tucked in close, her face beside Mother’s, and pointed wide eyes and waggling brows at the camera.

Mother added text, and off it flew, to soothe the man they both loved.

A yawn stretched Mother’s face, and she covered it daintily with her hand. “I do apologize. I suspect it’s time for that nap.”

Alice moved the sketchbook to the table and retucked the quilt around Mother. She added a glass of water within reach, then turned on the baby monitor and picked up the handset just in case. “If you need me, I’ll hear you.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Once Alice got the sheets changed, the laundry started, and the rest of the guest room details handled, she peeked into the other rooms on the floor. Aside from the library, they were vacant and still, just room after room of furniture waiting for people to need it. Behind one door, a set of stairs way less fancy than the ones to the second floor led to a third floor. The front-to-back open area at the top must’ve been Mother’s old studio space. On either side, bedrooms with slanted ceilings and dormer windows stood empty and waiting.

“Alice?” Mother’s voice came through the speaker at her hip, crisp and clear. “I suppose I am awake and much refreshed. You needn’t hurry back.”

She did, though, clattering down the stairs that deposited her between the library and the primary bedroom. Rapping on the door, she stepped inside. “It’s after eleven—are you hungry? Should we be putting together lunch?”

Mother had cast aside the quilt; she swung her legs down and looked up as Alice approached. Her eyes were brighter, the color in her cheeks pinker. “We may certainly investigate the possibilities.”

Grilled cheese she could do, if—a cricket chirped from her pocket, and she whipped out her phone.

Mother chuckled at her. “Ah, the eagerly anticipated sister?”

“Different sister.” Not disappointing, despite the slump in her stomach. She thumbed a quick reply. “Nat’s on her way to run that favor for me. Hopefully she’ll have good luck and only minor interference.” Though that involved a metric buttload of hoping. If Nat pulled this off, Alice would owe her big time. She stuffed the phone away and positioned herself in front of Mother with her arm out. “Wanna go downstairs?”

“You realize”—Mother lightly pulled herself to standing and stretched, adjusting her stance wider—“while Henry is out would be an excellent time to identify options for his contribution to your surprise.”

“I didn’t even think of it.” She’d had it tucked away as a thought for later, when things were more settled, but today would be perfect. “We have time before lunch?”

“My stomach isn’t rumbling yet, darling.” Mother hugged Alice’s arm tight. “And I am rapturous at the thought of assisting with your project.”

They settled in the music room, where every object came with a story. Twenty minutes in, her phone chirped again. The screen lit up, and Alice’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s Ollie. She has time to talk. Do you mind if I…”

Mother raised a hand. “Not at all. You go ahead.”

She started the call, her stomach turning somersaults. “Hey, munchkin! You ready for Christmas?”

Ollie snorted. “Working an overnight on Christmas Eve, so it’s better you wanted to talk today. I gotta figure out when I can call Mom and wish her a merry Christmas. I sent a card, though. Did you send a card? Where are you? Did Henry redecorate? Have you seen Mama Helen yet? Is she okay?”

“I can see her right now, actually.” That was the safest place to start. “We’re all at her house, except Henry and Jay are out running errands. Check this out.” She flipped the camera and showed off the tree. “Jay did most of the decorating yesterday. And…” She touched Mother’s arm and pointed at the phone, getting a nod and a soft smile in return. Flipping the camera back, she angled the phone beside her. “Now you can see her too.”

The cuteness of her sister chattering at Henry’s mom kept the nerves from eating her whole, but the nibbling at the edges had her jumpy and awkward. She’d called Ollie for a reason. Comforting small talk wasn’t it. “Hey, so, I wanted to tell you—”

“If it’s about the enormous box, it showed up yesterday.” Ollie panned her phone, and okay, yes, the luggage they’d gotten her for Christmas did seem to be in a box the size of her kitchen table. “I promise I won’t open it until Wednesday. I sent you something, too, like a million times smaller, but I guess you’ll see it when you get home.”

“I can’t wait! And I’m glad the box arrived.” She’d completely forgotten about it, but yay for early planning. Teasing her sister about the mystery package would be much easier than opening herself to whatever criticism she deserved for the mess she’d stirred up. “I went home last week.”

Fuck, her stomach ached like the time Chrissy Saffert slammed her with a kickball in gym class. “I, uh, I know I said I wasn’t going to. But I did.”

Ollie gaped at her without blinking, her mouth hanging open. “You went…”

A shudder rolled through her. This was not the place to throw up. She should’ve told Ollie on Thursday when she got back to the hotel. Every day she’d waited, the storm inside grew. “Sorry I—”

“I am so proud of you. Like holy shit . Sorry, Mama Helen! But that’s huge, Allie. Massive. And you didn’t—all by yourself—they were home? Of course they were home, duh, sorry, I just…” Ollie blew out a long breath with chipmunk cheeks. “Sooo…” Ollie’s face filled the screen, little twitches around her eyes, tiny tremors in her lips. “How was it?”

The whisper did her in.

Shoulders shaking, Alice swallowed back sobs. Her eyes leaked tears, and they refused to stop. “I think…”

Last night had been easier, relaying bare facts to Henry about a story Jay had already heard. She’d been focused on her husbands’ needs, not sinking into her own complicated feelings. “I think I made things worse.”

Mother wrapped an arm around her, nudging her closer, and a soft kiss landed on her forehead. “Take your time, darling girl. We’re listening.”