Chapter Twenty-Nine
THIS WAS THE FIRST Christmas since she’d been little that Diana looked forward to.
Not only because this time she wasn’t alone or wasn’t working, as often had been the case when she’d tried to give nurses with families—or with families who appreciated them—the opportunity to celebrate Christmas.
It was because, for the first time, she felt like she was right where she needed to be. Who she needed to be. And with people who had taken her into their fold—no questions asked—and were happy to keep her there. They knew her secret now—she and Laredo had told them together. Still, they treated her the same. Like a Christmas gift they’d always dreamed of receiving.
Unlike her parents and Adam who’d treated her like an unwanted present they had to put far away if they couldn’t return it.
Her spirits lifted as she glanced at her mother and father devouring their gingerbread house. She’d never seen her mother baking, and yet she’d joined Diana and Laredo’s family when they’d baked and decorated gingerbread houses this morning. Yesterday, Dad had tagged along for Christmas carols and proved his voice surprisingly impressive. Though, of course, the best voice by far belonged to Laredo.
So did her heart. She met his gaze and smiled.
“Would you like some more pecan pie? Are you happy?” He leaned to her, the fresh scent of his aftershave mixing with the sugar-and-spice pie aroma.
“Yes,” she said to both questions.
“Me, too. I mean, I’m happy. I don’t think I can fit in any more pie.” He smiled sheepishly as he placed another slice of pecan deliciousness on her plate.
She indulged herself in the pie and the holiday atmosphere the ranch house brimmed with. There were so many bright smiles, bright garlands, bright lights, but none of it was blinding. As she, her parents, Laredo’s mother, Pat, and several members of the Hibiscus Club settled on the sofas, she breathed in the aroma of pine needles with the promise of hope.
Laredo, Harris, and Marina picked up gifts from around the tree, read the names on the tags or cards aloud, and hand-delivered them to the recipients while the rest of the family took armchairs and seats on the couches and a few brothers settled on the carpet.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Laredo. She and Laredo wore matching Christmas sweaters. Maybe it was na?ve, but that made her feel like a unit now. To her surprise, her parents had bought their own set of matching Christmas sweaters, but more shockingly, her mother had found some knitting patterns Grandma had left and started learning to knit.
While Diana had been proud of her parents’ accomplishments and careers, this was the first time she’d seen them relaxed and close to content. Maybe they’d worked so much in an attempt to fill some void in their lives.
She’d received the best gifts this holiday as if to compensate for many previous years. The gifts of love, family, acceptance, and so much more.
Now they were all exchanging physical gifts after the noon church service and their gigantic dinner. She’d received more presents than she could imagine and intended to buy more things for this wonderful family. A faint tint of cocoa with marshmallows drifted her way after Laredo had disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the mug. She’d gotten her wish of cocoa with marshmallows for the holidays.
God had even fulfilled wishes she hadn’t realized she had.
She’d spoken with Laredo about faith a lot and thought about God much more. She sent up a prayer of gratitude for the biggest gift of all—salvation.
Yet, one thing needled her. Laredo acted... strange, maybe? He’d torn up a napkin during dinner like she’d done before when she’d been extremely nervous. And now as he hand-delivered gifts, a hint of worry darkened his baby blues.
Was he having second thoughts about their relationship and unsure how to tell her? Her heart dipped. She couldn’t blame him. She came with a lot of baggage, including a cistern of wine.
Or was she behaving too clingy again, this time by declaring she wanted to stay here and give them a chance? She pulled her shoulders back. She wasn’t clingy like Adam used to claim. She was open and honest and in love, and there was a difference.
Pat tore up the wrapping paper fast with one hand while the other was still in the cast, then beamed at the purple dress and a matching purse she’d admired before. “Thank you so much!” She rushed to hug Diana.
Diana hugged her best friend back, immensely grateful to have her in her life again. Never one to be even remotely clingy, Pat had always behaved unattainable with guys, and she’d always had a lot of admirers. One of them, Harris, couldn’t tear his gaze away from her now.
Diana didn’t regret putting her fragile heart on the line, and she wouldn’t take back her words or actions. Laredo needed to know how she felt. A smile widened her lips.
After all the presents had been received and opened, Laredo walked toward her, and her heartbeat became rapid. “I want to ask for everyone’s attention.”
People went quiet, and she was scared to breathe. What was he going to do? Could it be...?
He dropped on one knee and opened a small velvet box. “Diana, I love you, I love you, I love you, now and always.” He sang those words. Then he said, “I love everything about you. Your kindness, your ability to forgive even the unforgivable, your loyalty, your shy smile... The floral scent of your hair, the healing touch of your soul, and the way my heart swells the moment I see you—no, even the moment I think about you. I could go on for a long time because I simply love everything about you. Would you do me the huge honor of spending a lifetime with me?”
Good thing she was sitting on the sofa, or she would’ve fallen. She took a few seconds to find her voice, and the silence stretched. Laredo’s eyes widened, worry moving in. Pat visibly swallowed and moved closer, either to congratulate Diana or to pick up the pieces.
Finally, Diana managed to squeak out, “I love you, Laredo.”
Then in a much louder voice, she said, “I love you so much. And you’re the one who has the healing touch in your soul. You healed the aching spots I didn’t even know existed. I admire your singing talent, but even more, I’m grateful you helped me find my voice . You gave me the amazing gift of faith, the gift of kindness, the gift of... of yourself. And then you gave me again something so precious and unexpected. You helped me find myself. You gave me myself.”
Emotions overwhelmed her so much that she choked up and couldn’t say another word.
An ocean of emotions flooded his blue eyes, as well. “I just wanted you to see how incredible you are. Everything was already there before I showed up.”
There was a pause as she was still speechless. He literally stole her breath away.
Then Pat got up. “That’s a yes, everyone.” She turned to Diana. “That was a yes, right? You can just nod.”
A chuckle escaped as Diana nodded vigorously. She and Pat had finished each other’s sentences since they were little. Often her best friend knew what Diana was about to say even before Diana started speaking, and vice versa.
Everybody clapped, and Pat squealed, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as if to compensate for Diana’s lack of words. Her friend smiled from ear to ear. What a different reaction from when Diana told her Adam proposed and she’d accepted. Then Pat had been gloomy like a cloud before a thunderstorm.
They both got up as congratulations erupted around her, and he slipped the ring on her finger.
“It’s a perfect fit.” And it was the princess cut she adored. She glanced up at him.
Laredo grinned and slanted his gaze at Pat. “Your friend helped me choose it.”
Pat beamed, and Diana hugged her in earnest.
She tensed when her parents approached. They’d loved Adam, but having a cowboy son-in-law might not be their dream. While they’d seemed to accept her relationship with him, would they accept an engagement? She moved forward, ready to defend Laredo and her choice with everything in her.
Then her mother opened her arms to Laredo. “Welcome to the family!”
Diana picked up her jaw from the hardwood floor. Her mother wasn’t even the hugging type. This must be another Christmas miracle. Or maybe Diana should’ve tried getting in danger earlier to open Mom’s more sensitive side. Diana winced at the memory of being shot at. On the other hand, better not.
“Welcome to the family!” Diana’s father opened his arms, as well, mirroring Mom once she let her future son-in-law go. “You’d better treat my precious girl well.” Then he chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”
Another Christmas miracle. Her father had never said such words after her first engagement. Probably because her parents had been scared to spook off their perfect doctor son-in-law who might change his mind.
What progress!
“I love your daughter. I can’t imagine a bigger blessing than being married to her.” Laredo’s whole being shone with honesty.
Again, such a huge difference from Adam, who’d staged an over-the-top proposal at the hospital and then acted like he’d done her a favor by choosing her. He’d posted it all over social media and then showed her how many women commented that they wished he’d chosen them. He’d gleefully expressed how lucky she should feel since he’d chosen her. It had hurt, but she’d believed him and worked hard to prove he’d made the right choice.
Here, Laredo had considered it the biggest blessing that she had chosen him. She had nothing to prove. She just needed to exist.
No, enough of those memories. Gratitude for the real thing, for the real love swept her up together with a bear hug from Laredo’s mom.
“Congratulations! Welcome to the family!” More people hurried to hug her.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
“You’re crying.” Laredo’s expression became worried.
“It’s happy tears.” As all these sensations overwhelmed her, some had to spill over.
Some men loved a woman because they liked seeing their own reflection in her eyes. Some men loved a woman because they found heaven in her eyes.
She’d met and loved both kinds of men and now knew only one of them could bring the woman who fell for them happiness. Laredo was that kind of man, and she was beyond blessed to have a lifetime with him ahead of her.
After numerous hugs and congratulations, Laredo said, “I also wrote a song for you.”
Harris handed him a guitar. “We’d love to hear it.”
“Yes. I’d love to hear it, too,” she said quietly. She’d never had a song written for her, but she suspected this would be one of many.
Little surprise it was the most beautiful song she’d ever heard.
A week later, Diana sipped flavorful, sweet mint tea at the breakfast nook overlooking a spectacular ocean view. It reminded her of Laredo and their walks on the beach, and her heart warmed more from the thought than the tea. Her love for him grew every day if that was possible.
Then she turned her gaze to her mother. This woman with a much softer gaze, a simple T-shirt, and a whimsical shell necklace made by Laredo’s artsy sister-in-law felt like a stranger. But then, Diana had never really known her mother well.
They were remedying it now.
Diana was remedying something else, as well. She sent a loving gaze at a tabby tiny kitten sleeping in a comfy bed on the floor. She’d finally gotten a pet, and though most of Laredo’s brothers had dogs, he’d gladly accepted a kitten and was already smitten with her.
“What’s her name?” Mom brought elegant porcelain cups she’d inherited from her mother to the table that spread mint aroma.
“Chamomile. Like Grandma’s favorite tea.”
Her mother’s eyes were understanding and a little sad. “Growing up on a ranch, she should become a barn cat.”
“I just want her to grow up happy.” Tenderness spread inside Diana as the kitten stretched in her sleep, then covered her adorable pink nose. Then she looked up. “I love this cottage, and the view is gorgeous. But it’s so tiny. It looks nothing like my childhood home.” This place already felt way more like home than the spacious, spotless, museum-like place where Diana had grown up in richly furnished rooms. Her fingers hugged the delicate porcelain cup.
They still waded their relationship waters carefully, and Mom hadn’t become warm and caring like Laredo’s mother overnight. But at least Diana could understand Mom better after long conversations over chamomile or mint teas.
Her mother laughed, the carefree sound rare from her, as she reached for an oatmeal cookie she and Diana baked together according to Grandma’s recipe.
“That expensive place was more to prove to myself and others that I’d changed my ways and could accomplish something. Dad and I are thinking of putting that house on the market, especially if you decide to stay here.” Mom stroked the antique table from a local store. “This cottage’s owner might be willing to sell if the price is right.”
Diana chuckled. “Knowing Dad, he’ll make sure the price is right.” Then something needled her. She swiped a hand over her eyes as if clearing the cobwebs. “Hold on. Why did you need to prove you changed your ways? You’re the most responsible, hardworking person I’ve ever seen.”
“I...” A long sigh escaped Mom’s lips. She studied her cookie. “I partied a lot in my youth.” As she looked up, her gray eyes darkened. She placed a half-eaten cookie back on the plate. “My boyfriend died in a drunken fight—from a blow to the head with a bottle.”
“What?” Diana gasped and nearly dropped her cookie. The kitten mewled something but seemed to go back to sleep.
Mom’s lower lip trembled. “I felt so much guilt. After all, I’d dragged him to that party. So I drank to forget it all. Until your grandmother did an intervention and I realized I might end up like my late boyfriend.”
Trying to digest the news and the cookie, Diana gulped the warm tea. “Or like Grandpa?”
“Yes. I got clean and threw myself into my studies, then into my work. You thought I was hardworking. But I figured the more I worked, the less I’d think about alcohol. I met your father, and he was a serious and responsible doctor with a great career ahead—the opposite of my first love. I felt it was exactly what I needed.”
“Was it?” Overwhelmed, Diana looked out the window again. Stained glass accent windows framed the bungalow’s bay window. Sunlight illuminated the melded glass and its large, artsy blue and red flowers with green leaves. The colors played with her perspective.
So did the news. How different things could appear if one looked at them through different lenses.
Mom nibbled on her oatmeal cookie. “Yes, for a while. I loved—and still love—him deeply. I felt safe. When you were born, I was so happy. I was sure I’d never drink again. Then I got postpartum depression. I relapsed. I failed you. Your grandmother and your dad took care of you while I was in rehab. I couldn’t look at you without shame after that.”
So many mixed emotions swirled inside Diana.
Chamomile stirred, and Diana scooped up the kitten and stroked her soft, smooth fur, needing some kind of reassurance. The tiny furball purred in her hands.
A part of Diana warmed at the news that her mother loved her, and tenderness melted through her like sugar in her tea. The other part stirred at the disappointment that she’d caused her mother to start drinking again. Shame became harder to digest. It was too much to process all at once. If she tried, she might just choke on all these new feelings.
The kitten seemed to decide it’d had enough affection and started wiggling out of her embrace, so Diana placed the tiny pet on the tiled floor. Chamomile wobbled to her little bed and went right back to sleep.
With emotions bumping into each other inside her, Diana washed her hands in the sink, then returned to the table. She had to hear the rest, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“When your grandfather died, I relapsed again. I got clean again. Then at a work Christmas party, one of my coworkers brought me a drink I didn’t realize had alcohol in it. I made it home and continued drinking. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I had no self-control.” Mom’s features twisted. “Many of the times you thought I was busy working back-to-back shifts, I was holed up in a hotel with a row of empty bottles. I worked a lot of extra shifts, even during holidays, so the hospital administration gave me time off when I, um, felt unwell. I changed jobs if I thought someone smelled alcohol on my breath. Nurses are in high demand, as you know. Still, I lived in constant fear people would find out my secret.”
Wide-eyed, Diana couldn’t wrap her mind around this. How had she missed it all? “And Dad... didn’t help you?”
“He found me every time and put me in rehab. Embarrassed, we lied to everyone around us, including you.” Tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was a bad mother, and I was far from being a good wife or a good daughter.”
Overwhelmed, Diana got up and hugged her mother. “I’m nobody to judge you. I did my best to hide my addiction, too. There’s so much shame and guilt when it comes to alcoholism.” Then it dawned on her. “So when you were so ashamed of my drinking that you berated me and couldn’t even bear to look at me...” She let her mother go, the fragments falling differently in her memories.
Mom looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was projecting. I was ashamed of myself . Of the genes I passed to you. And when I was telling you that you might lose your job if you continue like that, it was my fear that it could happen to me.”
Diana sank back onto the wooden chair and drained her tea, craving the calming effect. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve gone to AA. We could’ve talked, helped each other.” Okay, maybe bonding over alcoholism wasn’t the best kind of mother-daughter bonding, but this should’ve brought them together, not further apart.
“Shame.” Mom hung her head. “I–I wasn’t ready to go to AA. And I always thought I could stay away from alcohol. I mean, how could I not? I saw what happened to my dad. And... I felt if I told you, we might start drinking together and sink further.”
Diana knew a lot about shame and the companionship of a shared drink. “Would you... would you go with me to the meetings now?”
“Yes.” Mom lifted her cup to her lips. “I’m sorry for everything. I know, as parents, we were too busy and too strict. But we thought if we pushed you more, you could achieve much more. You’re brilliant but timid. We wanted you to believe in yourself.”
Diana looked out the window, the green glass this time, which colored the ocean into a grass-green hue. “I thought you believed I wasn’t good enough.”
“Oh, honey! You’re more than enough. And you are the best thing that happened to us. You never gave us any trouble. Even as a child, you played quietly with your toys and later had your nose in a book. Growing up, you were studious and diligent and never complained. Never gave us any problems. Of course, we made sure you had the best school and all the material things you could need, but you practically raised yourself and, in a way, raised Pat. So we dedicated the time to what gave us issues instead. Work and my addiction. What do they say? The squeaky wheel gets the grease?”
Diana blinked as she looked back at her mother. What a different perspective, indeed. She still hadn’t entirely forgiven her mother, but she’d have to, for her own sake. If Laredo and she ever had children, she’d dedicate all the time in the world to them, not leave them emotionally abandoned. And Laredo would make an attentive and present father. But she wouldn’t berate her mother.
Diana wasn’t a squeaky wheel, after all. Just the efficient one that kept rolling and got the job done.
But one issue she did need to address, in case her prospective children didn’t choose careers their grandma wanted for them. “‘Achieve more’ is subjective,” Diana said. “I admire doctors very much, including Dad. But why does society put so much more value on a doctor than, let’s say, a homemaker? I know I could become a doctor, but that’s not what I want. And... I married Adam because I loved him, of course, but I also wanted to make you and Dad happy. You were ecstatic when I started dating him.”
Mom clunked her cup back on the saucer, making Chamomile mew in protest. “I guess we projected our marriage onto him. I hoped that, like your dad helped me, Adam could help you if you fell. I mean, you know...” Even now, she couldn’t say it.
Okay, baby steps. Diana drew a deep breath of air scented with mint and cookies. “If I started drinking?”
Mom glanced away. “Yes. Instead, he betrayed you. We were very wrong. Can... can we start anew?”
Diana dropped a fresh tea bag into her cup, then added water. “I believe we should.”
Mom hurried to hug Diana, though her mother had never been the hugging type. But flawed or not, she was her mother and eager to do better.
Diana smiled. “Would you and Dad like to walk me down the aisle?”