Chapter 33 Lindsey
LINDSEY
“What do you mean Mom’s gone?” I ask, still bleary-eyed and half asleep.
Ben woke me up in a panic because our mother was nowhere to be found when he and Ellie went downstairs for coffee.
“I mean she’s not here, Linds.”
“Well, did you call her?” I stifle a yawn as I pour some creamer into my steaming mug. “She probably forgot something for the French toast casserole and went to find a drugstore that was open.”
Catrick Swayze saunters into the room and meows, as if to ask why on earth we’re all awake at this ungodly hour.
“I got her voicemail,” he says.
I reach in the pocket of my robe for my phone and try her myself. Straight to voicemail.
“There’s got to be a note somewhere,” I insist, checking the dry-erase board she keeps on the fridge. “She wouldn’t leave without telling someone.”
“There’s no note,” Ellie says.
Ben shoves a hand through his hair, his glasses askew on his face. “We already checked everywhere. We even looked in her room. She didn’t even make the bed.”
That, in and of itself, is enough to fire off a warning shot.
“What’s going on?” Lucy asks as she and Willow pad into the room, making a beeline for the coffeepot.
“Mom left this morning,” Ben says. “We got up, and she was gone.”
Willow’s eyes widen. “Gone? For how long?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Ellie says. “We only woke up about thirty minutes ago.”
“But we don’t know how long she could have been gone before that,” Ben continues. “None of us heard her leave.”
Lucy’s wide awake now. “What do we do? Should we call the cops?”
“Cops?” Aunt Rose’s voice comes from the doorway. “Why are you calling the cops? And where’s Myra Jean?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” I say. “Did she mention anything to you last night about needing to go somewhere this morning?”
She shakes her head.
“Where could she have gone?” Lucy asks, pressing her fingers to her lips.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to go look for—” Before I can finish my sentence, the front door clicks shut and we race to the foyer to find my mother hanging her coat in the closet.
“Where were you?” I demand, equal parts relieved and annoyed. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” she answers, as though that was the silliest question she’s ever heard.
“We tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail,” Ben adds.
Mom digs in her purse for her phone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Looks like I forgot to turn it on.”
“You had us scared to death,” Ben says. “Where on earth did you go this early in the morning? And on Christmas, no less.”
Ellie touches his back. “The important thing is, she's okay.”
“This is entirely too much excitement this early in the morning,” Rose mutters.
“Where were you?” I ask again as she starts toward the kitchen with all of us on her heels.
“I just needed to run a quick errand,” she says.
Our voices collide in an accusatory chorus. “On Christmas?”
She drops her purse on the counter and her travel mug in the sink before grabbing one of the festive Christmas tree mugs out of the cabinet and filling it from the carafe.
“Yes,” she says, blowing a puff of air through her lips. “I went to see your father.”
Any frustration we’ve been feeling dissipates in an instant.
“Oh.” I frown, my heart sinking into my stomach. “I’m sorry, Mom. Are you okay?”
She nods and smiles, a peaceful expression smoothing the lines in her skin.
“I really am,” she says. “I feel great.”
Before we can press her any further, tiny footsteps come bounding down the steps.
“Mom!” Noah shouts as he and Emily barrel into the kitchen. “Dad! It’s Christmas!”
Emily flies into my brother’s leg. “Presents!”
“Not yet, Em. You know Grandma likes for us to have breakfast first,” he says. “Mom, do you mind if I put the French toast casserole in the oven?”
“Actually, I didn’t make one.” Mom clasps her hands together in front of her mouth, a playful glint in her eyes.
Lucy taps her forehead. “Am I dreaming? Are we in the twilight zone?”
“Very funny,” Mom says, wagging her finger. “I was thinking we’d do something different this year.”
The room is so quiet, I can hear myself blink.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asks. “Do you need to lie down?”
“No, I don’t need to lie down,” she answers with a laugh. “I was thinking maybe we could make breakfast together as a family.”
“You’re gonna let us help you in the kitchen?” Willow asks, her brows touching her hairline.
Mom takes a sip of her coffee. “Only if you want to.”
“We’d love to,” I say, exchanging bewildered glances with Ben and Lucy.
“Yeah,” Ben agrees. “What are we making?”
Mom shrugs. “Anything you want.”
Noah gets a wild gleam in his eyes. “Chocolate chip pancakes!”
“Yeah?” Mom asks, matching his energy.
“With whipped cream?” Aunt Rose adds.
Noah nods emphatically.
“What about you, Em?” Mom squats down to her level. “Anything you want.”
Emily tilts her head, her teeth clamped on her bottom lip. “Pizza rolls!”
Mom chuckles. “Okay, then. Pizza rolls and chocolate chip pancakes, it is. Any other requests?”
“Froot Loops!” Emily yells.
“I believe I have some of those from the last time you stayed the night.” Mom crosses the room to the pantry and reaches for the cereal box. “What else?”
Aunt Rose leans against the counter. “You know, I’d love a mimosa.”
“Ice cream sundaes,” Lucy says, and the kids cheer, bouncing up and down.
Willow wrinkles her nose. “For breakfast?”
“Why not?” Lucy asks. “It’s Christmas.”
Ben makes his way to the fridge. “How about I fry up some bacon and eggs? Maybe some hash browns?”
My stomach growls. I haven’t felt like eating much the last couple of days, but this all sounds surprisingly good.
“I could make some biscuits and gravy,” I offer. “Mom’s recipe.”
Ellie speaks up softly. “Maybe some Pop-Tarts?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Mom says, clapping her hands. “That’s the spirit. What about you, Willow?”
She taps her finger to her chin. “What about some breakfast quesadillas?”
Her suggestion is met with enthusiasm from the entire group.
“Perfect,” Mom says, a playful glint in her eyes. “Now, who wants to open presents before we eat?”
Noah and Emily’s hands shoot up, and Lucy squeals.
“Me!” the three of them say together, and I raise an eyebrow at my sister.
“Really?” I ask with a laugh.
Lucy grins. “What? A thirty-year-old can’t be excited about presents?”
“I couldn’t possibly eat another bite,” Aunt Rose says, popping one last piece of bacon into her mouth.
Mom snorts and raises an brow at her.
“What?” Aunt Rose garbles. “It’s a palate cleanser.”
I pat my stomach. “Thinking I should have requested some Tums.”
“I’ve definitely got some of those,” Mom says with a laugh.
The house is a disaster, but I can’t recall a single moment in the last five years when our family has been more relaxed and happier.
“What would y’all like to do next?” Mom asks.
Lucy’s brows pinch together as she chances a confused glance in my direction.
Ben scratches the side of his head. “You normally want to watch home movies all day.”
Mom raises her shoulders and drops them. “I think we’ve seen those enough, but I’ll be happy to grab them, if that’s what you want.”
“No,” we answer together, perhaps a little too quickly.
Mom laughs. “That’s what I thought.”
“What if we went to the actual movies today?” Ben asks, snapping his fingers.
“Hmm, yes. That’s an idea.” Mom purses her lips and adjusts her glasses on her nose. “I like it. But on one condition.”
Ben pouts. “What’s the condition?”
“We go get Chinese for dinner afterward,” she answers with a sly grin.
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Aunt Rose squints. “Myra Jean, are you in there? Blink twice if you need help.”
“Seriously,” I say. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this?”
Mom nods and reaches across the table for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I haven’t been this excited about Christmas in…well, a long time.”
As it happens, neither have I. It’s almost enough to take my mind off how much I miss Oliver.
“I, for one, think this is awesome,” Lucy says.
“I’ll go start cleaning the kitchen,” Ellie offers, but Mom holds out a hand to stop her.
“You most certainly will not,” she says. “There will be no cleaning done today. We have a much more pressing issue at hand.”
“What’s that?” Willow asks.
“We have to go to Noah and Emily’s house to see what Santa brought them,” Mom says.
“Well, come on!” Noah jumps up with a squeal. “What are we waiting for?”
Everyone rises from the table with Noah and Emily leading the charge.
I lag behind and pull my phone from the pocket of my pajama pants, hoping I’ve somehow managed to miss a text from Oliver. If he responded to my message from before, maybe that would mean the door to our relationship could be reopened.
My heart drops when I hit the button to light up the screen. There are no missed calls or texts, and the last message I sent him was still left on read.
There’s no indication Oliver has thought of me at all.
After seeing what Santa brought the kids, we catch a double feature and eat our weight in lo mein before ending up back at Ben and Ellie’s. Noah and Emily have long since passed out, proclaiming this as the best Christmas ever, leaving the rest of us to enjoy some wine and Cards Against Humanity.
It comes as no surprise to anyone that Aunt Rose wins every round.
Lucy slaps her cards on the eat-in dining table. “Damn it! I was so close!”
“Let’s go again,” Willow says, shuffling the cards. “This is fun.”
Aunt Rose takes a sip of her wine. “Ready to admit defeat again, I see.”
“You’re gonna have to count me out on this one, kids,” Mom says with a yawn as she stands. “I’m beat. I think I’m going to head on out.” She peeks at the clock on the microwave above the stove. “It’s already after eight.”
“Are you sure?” Ellie asks. “You can stay in the guest room, if you like.”
Mom leans down to kiss her cheek. “You’re sweet to offer, but when you get to be my age, you need about seventeen pillows to sleep and not wake up feeling like you’ve been bludgeoned with a bat.”
“It’s true,” Aunt Rose agrees as Lucy and Willow rise to give Mom a hug.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Lucy says.
“Merry Christmas to you, my dear.” Mom leans over to plant a kiss on top of Ben’s head. “To all of you.”
She moves to give me a hug, but I push out of my chair. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Everyone sings out their goodbyes as Mom and I shrug on our coats, and I walk her outside while my siblings’ laughter carries out into the silent night.
Mom curls her arm around my shoulders and smiles.
“That’s my favorite sound, you know? When you were younger, you three used to laugh yourselves silly.
You loved playing little pranks on us. And each other, of course.
Your father and I used to stand outside the room, just out of sight, and listen to your giggles. ”
“You did?” I ask. “How did I not know this?”
“We nearly gave ourselves away many times,” she says as we reach her car. “We’d be shaking with laughter, tripping over ourselves, listening to y’all carry on.”
I grin and lean into her shoulder. “Today was a good day, Mom.”
“It sure was, kid.” She rubs her hand along my arm. “You should go back inside. It’s cold out here. Do you want me to come back and get you in the morning?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll have Ben bring me over after this next round.”
She nods and moves to open the car door.
Before she can even climb inside, I blurt, “Do you think I made a mistake?”
“What?” she asks, her hand frozen on the handle.
“With Oliver. Do you think I ended things too quickly?”
She takes a beat and presses her lips together. “Do you think you did?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I admit, grinding the toe of my boot into the gravel driveway. “I just really miss him.”
She opens her mouth as though she’s going to say something but shuts it and nods.
“Take some time and think it over,” she says. “Listen to what your heart’s telling you.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’m a mess and a half.”
She places a gloved hand on my cheek. “You’ve never been a mess.
Not now. Not ever. One thing about you kids is, you’ve always known exactly who you are and what you want.
Gosh, when you were younger, we had to beg you to stop studying and go outside to play during the summer. Do you remember that?”
I give her a small smile. “I do.”
“You got so annoyed with us. All you wanted to do was shadow your father at the clinic.”
“But that’s different. That’s what I do, it’s not who I am.”
“You’re right,” she says. “A veterinarian isn’t who you are but being determined and sure of yourself is. But I think somewhere along the way, you stopped trusting in that.” She takes my hand in hers and presses it to my heart. “You stopped listening to this.”
“I don’t know how,” I admit. “I can’t hear it anymore.”
“It’s still there. You just have to quiet the rest of the noise so you can listen to it.”
“But how?” I ask. “How do I do that?”
She kisses my temple and pulls me into her arms, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a fan of watching the sunrise. The world makes a lot more sense there.”