Chapter Ten Mary #2
He stepped inside—warm, polished, carrying a bottle of wine and a small gold-wrapped box.
“Mary! It’s been far too long,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Then, over my shoulder, he added lightly, “Ah—and this must be Samantha . . .”
I turned—and there was Sam in the kitchen doorway, looking like someone who’d wandered onto the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie without a script.
She still had the cucumber peeler in one hand, but now a small mountain of parsley was clinging to the front of her shirt like festive, leafy confetti.
A sprig hung from her sleeve, betraying the kitchen collision she’d just escaped.
Her eyes were wide, her posture stiff, her whole expression saying: I was not emotionally prepared for this scene.
Oh, Sam, I thought, guilt tightening in my chest.
Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown a brand-new family member at her right after holiday prep carnage. I’d been so eager to introduce her—too eager.
Julian merely smiled and reached out, briskly plucking the stray parsley from her sleeve before offering it back with a little flourish.
“There you are,” he said kindly.
Sam blinked, flustered. “Oh—um—thanks. The kitchen got . . . dramatic.”
“Holiday kitchens tend to,” he said easily.
She managed a shy laugh and stepped back into the room, brushing at her shirt.
Julian watched her go, eyebrows raised. “My word. The resemblance is remarkable.”
“I know, right?” I said, beaming.
At dinner, Sam kept mostly quiet, but Julian—warm and curious as always—did his best to draw her out.
“So,” he said, cutting into his roasted vegetables, “will you girls be returning to college for the winter semester?”
I felt my parents tense almost in unison—like someone had pushed a hidden button.
I smiled anyway. “Actually, no. We’re . . . taking the spring off. Sort of a gap year so Sam and I can do the North American Wilderness Academy program.”
Julian lifted his brows, surprised. “Isn’t that based in Washington State?”
“Oregon,” my twin corrected quietly.
“Well, my goodness, that’s quite an adventure!”
“You’re right, Julian, it is an adventure,” Mom said, her voice carefully pleasant. “Maybe too much of one. This program is—well—it’s very far away and very demanding. We would prefer Mary return to school in January. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her.”
Julian considered this. “Well, I can understand your concerns,” he said diplomatically, then turned to me. “Mary, it’s true. That program is rigorous.”
Mom nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”
“I like the outdoors just fine!” I protested. “And it’s not like I’ve never been camping in my life.”
Dad lifted an eyebrow. “Honey, sure, we had a few family camping trips, and you did a couple overnight trips in Girl Scouts. But what you’re talking about is on a whole other level. You didn’t even do the summer-camp-in-the-woods thing.”
I put my fork down. “And whose fault is that?” I teased. “You two were the ones who insisted I needed to spend my summers working. ‘You’ll never learn to respect money until you go out and earn your own.’”
Even Sam chuckled at my “serious dad” impression.
“Mary, you make it sound like we sent you to work in the coal mines!” Mom laughed. “You babysat, walked Mrs. Feldman’s dog, and helped out at Julian’s place.”
Julian nodded. “Mary was a godsend the way she tamed my clutter. She organized my office, sorted my patient files, kept me from drowning in paperwork . . . And she spent hours in the garden with Rose.”
“I think she loved teaching me about flowers almost as much as I loved learning about them,” I said softly.
The table quieted for a moment at the mention of her.
Then Julian smiled a little. “She always had some new project going out there. Her whole little gnome-and-fairy kingdom tucked in among the herbs . . . mushrooms, lanterns, tiny benches. She could lose an entire afternoon arranging it.”
I laughed softly. “I loved that garden.”
We were all smiling now, even Sam—until Mom’s voice gentled again.
“Well, despite our stroll down memory lane, this program will be incredibly demanding,” she said, then glanced at Sam. “Sam, you’re still not a hundred percent after your accident.”
Julian blinked. “Accident?”
Mom filled him in on the horrifying details.
He turned to my sister with a gentle, concerned expression.
“My dear, Theresa has a valid point. Do you think it’s wise to take this on right now?
Perhaps you two should stay closer to home—at least for the time being.
I’d be happy to arrange a referral at Miami Killian Medical Center.
Maybe another few months of rehab before something so physically intense . . .”
The color drained from Sam’s cheeks. She shook her head quickly.
“No, thank you . . . I’m fine. Really. I’m good . . .”
For someone so tough, she always seemed startled by sincere concern. I nudged her knee under the table.
“It’s true,” I said firmly. “Sam’s been working extra hard. I’ve even started teaching her to swim in the pool. But thank you, Uncle Jules. You’re super sweet.”
Julian nodded and moved smoothly on to complimenting Mom’s lemony brussels sprouts.
I leaned over so only my sister could hear me.
“It’s going to be so amazing!” I whispered excitedly.
She smiled, the most genuine smile I’d seen all day.
“I know. I’m counting the days.”
As it turned out, those days were already running out.