Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Gabby felt as if time was standing still. The hours at work were torture. She wanted to see Jason. Hear his voice. Look into his gorgeous blue eyes. Feel his arms wrap around her and convince her that happiness was in reach.
Instead, she was mentally exhausted from checking spreadsheets and answering emails.
It was almost Christmas...didn’t people have things to do?
After Monday’s late-evening text and subsequent call, her phone had been eerily silent. Either Jason was deep in his remodel project, or his family had lured him home, or he was out on the town with another woman. Perhaps a female who was lighthearted and fun and easy to be with...in other words, not Gabby.
She didn’t call or text him . If she wasn’t willing to extend an invitation, it seemed unfair to have the equivalent of G-rated phone sex.
Jason was a man in his prime. How long would he wait for her to get her head together? And was it even possible?
The only way she had navigated life up until now was to keep her goals simple, clear, and obtainable. Finish her degree. Get a good job. Care for her mother physically, financially, and emotionally.
On a side note, she did her best to be a good friend and neighbor.
But getting into an intimate, committed relationship with a man? Especially a man like Jason? That wasn’t a goal. That was a fairy tale.
Tuesday night she wrapped his Christmas present and set it in the middle of her kitchen table. Every time she passed the spot, her heartbeat staggered. If she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine a warm, cozy holiday movie where the two of them exchanged presents and kisses and so much more when the TV screen faded to black.
Could fiction ever morph into reality?
Wednesday evening, she cooked for Mrs. Rabinski in 3C. Then she cleaned up all the dishes and fell into bed. Thursday night she swapped goodies with Tanya and the twins, packed her suitcase for the weekend, and tucked her mother’s presents into a large red tote. Dahlia preferred lots of little gifts instead of anything pricey or extravagant. Gabby indulged her mother’s preferences gladly, even if it meant wrapping a dozen boxes.
When the alarm rang Friday morning, she knew her time had run out.
She hadn’t called Jason. She hadn’t made plans to see him today. And she had more or less insisted they each spend Christmas Day with their parents.
His present mocked her every time she saw it. Finally she stuffed it deep in her tote and tried not to feel guilty.
By the time she made it to the office, she wanted to climb back into bed. Instead, she greeted her intern, Jamie, gave her a sizeable gift card to her favorite upscale department store, and handled half a dozen last-minute items that couldn’t wait until the new year.
Grimes & Hancock still embraced the traditional office Christmas party. It started at noon with a holiday DJ, a buffet, and an open bar. Gabby dreaded the event every year. Though seventy percent of her male coworkers were perfect gentlemen, the other thirty percent were handsy . Even more so when they’d had a few drinks.
Jamie had been invited to the party, but Gabby had given her a dispensation to leave with her handsome boyfriend. The two of them were driving all the way to St. Louis to be with both their families. They needed to get on the road.
That left Gabby to mingle and smile and pretend that she enjoyed mediocre food, loud talking, and socializing with her coworkers. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people. Most of her colleagues were decent and fun. But she preferred one-on-one interactions.
At one forty-five, she escaped.
She had loaded everything in her trunk so she could get on the road immediately. Even so, the traffic was nightmarish. Christmas Eve Day was a dreadful time to travel.
The trick was to pick good music and find a zen state of mind.
By the time she reached Blossom Branch, she was tired, but satisfied. The trip had taken forty-five minutes longer than usual, but it could have been worse. She’d seen not one but four fender bender incidents along the way.
Just for fun, she didn’t go straight to her mother’s house. Instead, she drove right into the center of town and did a circuit of the quad. She wanted to enjoy the tree and Santa’s sleigh and all the hustle and bustle of last-minute shoppers.
Cate’s cute shop was overflowing. In fact, there was a line to get inside.
Even though it was winter, the ice cream store was open.
And the diner, the Peach Crumble, had a sandwich board out front that said, “Closing at seven p.m. tonight—Merry Christmas!”
Gabby hadn’t expected to feel Jason’s presence so keenly. He was eighty miles away in Atlanta. Doing who knew what.
He’d asked to spend time with her this week, but she had shut him down. Now here she was, back in Blossom Branch, realizing that this little town was always going to make her think about him. Every bit of her childhood and her past that she had exposed to him had been received on his part with compassion and an attempt to understand.
She couldn’t fault him for not understanding everything . Unless a person had lived through what Dahlia and Gabby had, it was hard to fathom the extent of their vulnerable, on-the-edge existence.
As a very young kid, Gabby had known nothing else. But when she started kindergarten, she began to see the wide gap between what her life was like and how her classmates lived. That realization had grown slowly. At first with confusion.
She had blamed herself in the beginning. Surely six-year-old Gabby had done something wrong. Her mother’s odd moods and crying jags must have been her fault.
More than one teacher along the way had treated her with exquisite care and kindness and empathy. There had been women who stayed late after class to help with homework, presumably because they knew Dahlia’s limitations.
Gabby knew she was lucky to be a good student. She had worked hard and never done anything remotely out of line. Even in elementary school, she had recognized that her brain and her ability to fly under the radar would be her best chances to improve life for herself and her mother.
Tonight she and Dahlia would exchange gifts. That was their tradition. Even in the leanest years, Dahlia had wrapped tiny, insignificant gifts for her baby girl and offered them on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning would be a home-cooked breakfast and stockings filled with fruit and candy, some of which had come from the food basket they received.
Only much later in life did Gabby realize that the “let’s do presents on Christmas Eve” suggestion had been Dahlia’s way of drawing attention from Santa’s absence. He never visited their house.
She shook her head slowly, trying to dislodge the disturbing memories.
Moments later she found an empty parking spot at the curb. After pulling in and shutting off the engine, she called her mother.
“Hey, Mom. I’m in Blossom Branch. Just checking to see if you still want pizza.”
“Oh, yes,” Dahlia said. “And please don’t forget the garlic knots.”
“Got it.”
“Is Jason with you?”
Gabby winced. “No, ma’am. He’s probably spending the weekend at his mom and dad’s house.”
“Oh.” Dahlia’s response sounded deflated. “I was hoping we might play some games tonight.”
“It will be just you and me watching our favorite Christmas movies,” Gabby said lightly. “Like always. I’ll be there soon.”
When Gabby pulled up at her mother’s modest house and unloaded the car, Dahlia came out to help with the pizza box. She was smiling and bubbly, sounding much more upbeat than she had on the phone.
Gabby was relieved. “I love your new haircut,” she said.
“Thanks, darlin’. I even treated myself to a mani-pedi. Several residents at the nursing home chipped in and gave me a gift certificate for my Christmas present. Wasn’t that a lovely thing to do?”
“It definitely was. I know how much you mean to them.”
After dinner, they moved into the living room. With the fire going and the tree lights gleaming, Gabby felt her Christmas spirit revive. Life was good. With or without Jason, she had nothing to complain about. She and her mother were a tight unit.
The truth was, Dahlia had improved over the years. Newer drugs with fewer side effects. The hours of professional counseling Gabby had paid for. And simply the passage of time. Her mother was doing well.
It was a good feeling to know that she had kept her mom safe.
Around eight, they opened presents.
“You first, Mama. You can start anywhere.”
It was a treat to shop for someone who was so appreciative of everything . A new nightgown, robe, and slippers. Two sweaters. A soft velour throw for the sofa. Costume jewelry to match the sweaters. New novels by her favorite authors.
Dahlia’s cheeks were pink with excitement when she finished. “You spoil me,” she said, leaning over to kiss Gabby’s cheek. “I’m so lucky to have you for a daughter.”
“I’m lucky, too,” Gabby said. “I love you, Mama.”
“Now it’s your turn.” Dahlia practically bounced in her spot on the sofa. Excitement made her beautiful. Gabby’s soul pinched, thinking of everything her mother had missed out on in life. She’d been forced into adulthood. Motherhood. Dahlia had a pure heart and gentle spirit. She deserved so much more.
The box she handed over was shirt-size, but thick. It was beautifully wrapped in red foil paper stamped with sprigs of holly. “Such a pretty package,” Gabby said. “I almost hate to open it.” She slid a fingernail under one piece of tape and popped it carefully.
“Oh, pooh,” Dahlia said. “Open it. Open it.”
Gabby relented and tore into the wrapping, tossing the shiny paper aside. When she took the lid from the box and folded back the tissue, she frowned inwardly, confused. What was she looking at?
“Mama?” She lifted out one of two light, fluffy items. They were rectangles—one blue, one pink—each about three feet wide and four feet long. The yarn was so fine and soft, it was like holding a cloud. “This is beautiful work, but what is it?”
Dahlia beamed. “You know how my neighbor has been teaching me how to knit? Little items for the animal shelter?”
“I remember.” Gabby nodded.
“Well, I wanted to make you a sweater or a hat or something, but I’m not very good yet. So I made these two baby blankets.”
Gabby’s jaw dropped. “Baby blankets?” Was she being punked? This was surreal. Surely her mother wasn’t having a break with reality.
Dahlia stared at her daughter with a resolute expression. “I want grandchildren, Gabby. You’re not getting any younger, and neither am I. Well, truthfully, because I had you when I was only sixteen, I’m the age now to really enjoy a granddaughter or a grandson. And I would be a great babysitter.”
“Mama, I thought you and I were happy with our own little family.”
“Things change, baby girl. Life moves on. You’ve carried the responsibility for me far longer than you should have. But I’m good now. Really good. I want you to hook up with that sweet Jason boy. Get married. Start a family. I won’t be with you always. I want you to have other people to love.”
Gabby panicked. “Are you sick? And you haven’t told me?”
Dahlia rolled her eyes. “I’m not sick. I’m great. You, on the other hand, do nothing but work and look after me.”
“That’s not true,” Gabby said. The words were weak.
Her mother sobered, twisting her hands in her lap, her expression almost bleak. “I gave you a terrible start in life. It wasn’t all my fault, but still. No little girl should have been watching over me at age ten. My shortcomings made you too serious. Too responsible. You never asked for anything frivolous or fun. In fact, you never asked for much at all.”
Gabby’s mouth was dry, and her heart hurt. “Have I smothered you? Is that what this is about? Do you want to be more independent?”
Her mother dropped her head back on the sofa and bumped her fists on her forehead. “Sweet Jesus, no. You’re not listening, hon. This is about you . My wonderful only daughter.” She sat up again. “I know better than most how short life is. I loved your father with all my heart. He was ridiculously smart. That’s where you get the brains. I knew he and I would be going places in the world.”
“I’m so sorry he died, Mama.”
Dahlia grimaced. “Me, too. I didn’t think I was strong enough to survive, but I did. And look what I got as a prize. You, Gabriella Elizabeth Nolan. You’re tough and brilliant and kind. No mother, no parent, could ever ask for more. You’ve made me so proud.”
Gabby was near tears. She hadn’t anticipated this turn in the conversation. “I’m glad,” she said. “You took care of a baby when you were grieving and struggling. If I’m strong, it’s because I learned it from you.”
“So you’ll give me grandchildren?”
“I’ll at least think about it. How’s that?”
“I suppose it will do.” Her mother’s impish grin signaled victory.
Gabby’s head was awhirl with confusion and shock. The grandchildren topic had never come up before. What had prompted this outpouring of emotion from her mother? And the baby blankets? Was this all about Jason?
She knew her mom had bonded with him, admired him. But surely one weekend together hadn’t prompted the unusual gift and the plea for babies.
As part of her and her mom’s final Christmas Eve tradition, they fixed popcorn and hot chocolate and settled in front of the TV to watch their favorite Christmas movie. It was one they had seen a dozen times. Maybe more.
Dahlia’s attention was glued to the screen. Her tittering laugh lifted Gabby’s spirits. She would do anything in the world for her mother. But babies? That was a big ask.
It was closing in on midnight when they were done. Gabby yawned as they carried dishes to the kitchen sink.
She noticed her mother had already hung a packed-to-the-gills stocking on the right side of the fireplace mantel. The familiar long red sock—the same one from Gabby’s childhood—was full of odd and intriguing bulges. On the opposite end of the hearth, Dahlia’s matching stocking dangled pitifully empty. Gabby had brought all she needed to fill it as soon as her mother fell asleep.
After Gabby graduated from college and the family finances finally improved, she and her mother had progressed beyond candy and fruit to more interesting items.
When the house was quiet and her stocking chore done, she took care of the few remaining coals in the fireplace. Then she perched on the edge of the sofa and stared at the beautiful tree. She remembered Jason’s genuine delight in helping them decorate the fragrant fir. He had attacked the project with enthusiasm and had enjoyed every moment.
How would tonight have been different if he had joined them? She couldn’t imagine that Dahlia would have forged ahead with the baby conversation.
Gabby missed him with a raw ache unlike anything she had ever experienced. The hands on the clock were far past midnight. It was Christmas now. She couldn’t lie to herself any longer, not on such a holy and auspicious day. She had almost certainly fallen head over heels in love with Jason Brightman.
The feeling in her chest was a combination of incredulous jubilation and sick fear. It was easy enough for her mother to advocate pregnancy and childbirth with one of Atlanta’s premier bachelors. Dahlia’s outlook could be simplistic at times.
Her mother certainly couldn’t understand Jason’s world.
For a time, Gabby had wondered if her own reluctance to let Jason slide into her life was based on a fear that he might be emotionally hung up on Cate. But she had seen enough to know that wasn’t true.
She wasn’t even worried that his pursuit of her was a rebound relationship. It had been eighteen months since the almost-wedding. If he was going to have a rebound fling, he would have done so long before now.
Jason’s genuine physicality had convinced her that he was attracted to her and honestly wanted a relationship. She believed everything he had said and done. In his sexy smile she saw a future that might exist for some woman.
That was the terrifying reality she faced.
She wanted him in the very same way.
But it made no sense.
In the short term, physical lust could obscure any number of problems. Those pesky realities would rear their heads sooner or later, though. Wasn’t it better to give him up now with her heart mostly intact? There would be other men...if she wanted babies.
Ending things with Jason would hurt. A lot. But neither of them had made declarations from which they couldn’t walk away. Not yet.
If Gabby ended things immediately—before she let him work any more of his magic on her with those blue-flame eyes—she and Jason would survive. In the future, they would both be able to exchange bland, unemotional smiles on the few times their paths crossed. Perhaps a baby shower for Cate. A birthday party for Harry. An opening day at Camp Willow Pond to celebrate Leah and Lucas’s exciting venture of building winterized cabins.
Gabby and Jason could skate around the edges of their social circle and never reveal that they’d had wild, breathless sex in the back seat of Jason’s car while they were both visiting Blossom Branch.
Who would have believed them anyway?
Gabby was a rule-follower. Not a risk-taker. She was a careful, measured, never-spontaneous woman.
Even a man as stunning and appealing as Jason shouldn’t have been able to sway her from the path.
But he had.
To make matters worse, Gabby’s own mother was advocating having fun , making babies . Finding other people to love.
Madness. Sheer madness.
Gabby went to bed, but it was a long time before she fell asleep. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had always elicited complicated emotions. The disappointments of her childhood had created an adult woman with a strong need to manage expectations.
There was nothing special about today or tomorrow. Not really.
December 24 and 25 were merely two days on the calendar.
Santa wasn’t real, and he surely wasn’t infallible. He’d skipped over her home year after year. She had learned to do life on her own. Make her own celebrations. Buy her own presents. Care for her own mom.
She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her. Life was what you made of it. Her world—centered around work and Dahlia—was pleasant and secure. She didn’t need anything more.
A lie was a lie even when you told it to yourself...
Gabby awoke Christmas morning in a much better mood, feeling calm and happy. Despite the über-practical voice inside her head, she grinned. She wasn’t stuck in the past. Life was good, and she was going to enjoy the day with her mother.
Already, the smell of bacon and coffee filled the air.
Plus, Dahlia had popped the first batch of homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven by the time Gabby walked into the kitchen. They were labor-intensive, but the dough could be made the day before.
“Merry Christmas, Mama,” Gabby said, hugging the cook.
Her mother turned and hugged her in return. “Merry Christmas to you, too, sweetie. Sit down and talk to me. Breakfast this morning is my treat.”
Gabby frowned when she saw her mother’s face. Dahlia looked haggard, as if she hadn’t rested at all. The health worries came rushing back.
“Are you okay?” Gabby asked. “Did you sleep?”
Dahlia wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “Tossed and turned a bit. I’m fine.” She lifted the last of the bacon onto a paper towel, turned off the eye on the stove, and poured herself more coffee. Then she joined her daughter at the table. She shredded her paper napkin into little pieces, her gaze downcast. “I was supposed to talk to you about something last night,” she said. “I chickened out.”
Gabby’s stomach clenched. “You can talk to me about anything, Mama. Anytime. You know that.”
Dahlia lifted her chin as if bracing for something unpleasant. Her lower lip trembled. “Dave Langford and I have been seeing each other, ever since that Sunday we all had lunch here.”
It took every bit of Gabby’s acting skills, but she held a smile. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“There’s more.”
“Okay.”
Dahlia patted her hand. “Don’t be mad, please. I’m leaving today at one.”
“Leaving?” Gabby parroted the word. “I don’t understand. Leaving to go where? It’s Christmas.”
Her mother stood again and fluttered around the kitchen. “Dave has a small place down near the Florida panhandle. It’s nothing much, but it’s in walking distance of the beach. He always stays down there for January and February. He’s asked me to go with him this time. He’s going to teach me how to fish. My neighbor has agreed to check on my house a couple of times a week while I’m gone.”
Gabby heard a roaring in her ears. She couldn’t overreact. This was a huge step for her mother. But was it a good step or a bad step?
“Do you feel comfortable with him, Mama?”
For once, Dahlia looked confident and happy all in the same moment. No doubts. No fears. “I do,” she said. “He’s been very sweet to me. I know I should have told you sooner, but I suppose I was embarrassed.”
Gabby pulled herself together despite her rioting emotions. “Don’t be embarrassed. This is lovely. Truly it is.” She stood and wrapped her mother in her arms. Dahlia felt thin and frail and small. Gabby was terrified for her, but her mother was a grown woman who had conquered demons. She was a survivor. This thing with Dave was Dahlia’s shot at a relationship that could carry her into middle age and beyond. If this was what she wanted, Gabby prayed it was the right thing.
Dahlia dabbed her eyes when they separated. “I assumed you and Jason would be spending part of the holiday together, or I never would have agreed to leave so soon. Will you be okay, baby girl?”
Gabby smiled brilliantly, gritting her teeth against one shock after another. “Of course I will. After you and Dave are on the road, I’ll drive on back to Atlanta and put my feet up. Work has been crazy since before Thanksgiving. The thought of kicking back and relaxing is wonderful.” The lies rolled off her tongue.
Breakfast was delicious, but Gabby had to force herself to eat. Then it was time to clean up the kitchen and help Dahlia finish packing her suitcase. Finally they sat down to open their stockings.
The familiar ritual rang hollow for Gabby as they each exclaimed over small, thoughtful gifts. She tried not to feel hurt and abandoned. She was a grown woman, too. But it felt as if the proverbial rug had been tugged out from under her feet.
At twelve thirty, Dave Langford showed up.
“Merry Christmas, Gabby.” His greeting was warm. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing your mother away. I predict she’ll love the beach.”
Dahlia put her hands to her mouth and blushed. “I’ve never even seen the ocean,” she said. “Isn’t that awful? I’m ready to go. But let me make one more pit stop. Gabby, give him my suitcase. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as she left the room, Dave sobered. “I care deeply about your mother, Gabby. I give you my word that I’ll look after her as carefully as you have all these years. She knows how to FaceTime. I’ve got Wi-Fi connected at my place while we’re down there. Check in on us as often as you like.”
“She’s thrilled to be going,” Gabby said quietly, knowing it was the truth. “I’m happy she’s doing so well.”
“I’ll make sure her meds are in order. If there’s any sign of a problem, I’ll seek medical help. You can trust me, I swear.”
Gabby nodded slowly. “I know. The folks in Blossom Branch think highly of you, Dave. If you make my mother happy, that’s all the promise I need.”
Fifteen minutes later, Gabby watched through the open drapes as Dave Langford’s navy SUV pulled out of the driveway and headed south.
Then she sat down on the sofa and cried.