We Wish You a Messy Christmas

Chapter 1

one

Olivia Bradshaw released a loud groan as she dropped her shopping bags inside the apartment. “Why do I keep doing this?” she muttered to herself as she peeled off her coat and unwound her wool scarf, shaking the rain onto the tiled entryway floor.

“Keep doing what?” her roommate Tracie asked from behind her. “And why are you talking to yourself?”

“Oh, was I?” Olivia kicked off her soggy shoes. “I thought you were going out to hunt down a Christmas tree.”

“That was the plan, but Josh canceled. Due to weather.” Tracie peered curiously at her. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re the shrink.” Olivia wrinkled her nose. “You tell me.”

“First of all, I dislike the word shrink. Next of all, I’m only an intern until I get my license next summer.” She pointed to the sofa. “But if you’d like to talk, I’m a pretty good listener. Not going anywhere this weekend.”

Olivia frowned out the window. “Yeah, it’s a deluge out there. Not supposed to let up for several days.” She turned and sank into the sofa with a loud sigh.

“So, tell me, what’s up?” Tracie shoved a throw pillow behind her and leaned back.

“I’m not totally sure I can explain it.” Olivia pursed her lips. “But don’t they say that repeating the same behavior and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity?”

“Then be comforted, you’re in good company.” Tracie smiled. “So what is it you keep doing with unsurprising results?”

Olivia studied her roommate. They’d been friends for less than a year and roommates only since summer.

Tracie seemed so put together and intelligent that Olivia was reluctant to spill the beans about her weird family.

Make that her weird mother. In Dad’s defense, he was pretty normal.

An enabler perhaps, but basically a good guy.

Still, Tracie had never met Olivia’s parents or visited their home.

Tracie nodded toward the heap of bags piled by the door. “Looks like you scored with your shopping excursion. Is your problem perhaps overspending? Lots of people do that this time of year. Not too late to return things.”

“Thankfully, that’s not necessary. In fact, shopping, despite the lousy weather, was fun.

This is my first year buying real Christmas presents for everyone and, okay, I might’ve gone overboard, but thanks to my raise from the marketing firm, I didn’t need to charge a single thing this year. That’s not why I’m bummed.”

“Is this related to Malcolm?”

“No, not exactly. I mean, we’re okay. Really, Malcolm is great.” Olivia twisted her mouth to one side. To be honest, her mixed feelings were slightly related to Malcolm. Not directly, but partly. Anyway, Malcolm could complicate things.

Tracie held up her hands like she was ready to give up. “Okay then, if you don’t want to talk—”

“I do want to talk,” Olivia burst out. “I need to talk. It’s just hard to explain. I don’t know where to begin. And I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Go ahead, start digging.” Tracie leaned back again.

“Well, it’s about my mom. And already, I feel like a spoiled brat to whine about it.”

“Spoiled brat? Why?”

“For talking smack about my mom. For being ungrateful, for taking her for granted . . .”

“Uh-huh? How’s that?”

“Because, well, because my mom is perfect. Jane Bradshaw is absolute perfection.”

“Perfection . . . ?” Tracie’s brow creased. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“See why I feel like the ungrateful daughter?” Olivia was aware that Tracie had been born into severe dysfunction, followed by foster care and finally adoption to the family she now recognized as her own. And yet she seemed so unscathed by it all. “I hate hearing myself complain about my mom.”

Tracie held up one hand. “Okay, let’s make this a judgment-free zone.”

“Yeah . . . right.”

“So, can you describe to me how your mom is, uh, perfect?”

“It’s everything. The way she acts, her manners and mannerisms. The way she looks—she’s an impeccable dresser who seems to wake up with perfect hair and makeup.

The way she keeps her home immaculate and organized.

Honestly, this woman is so meticulous, she could probably cook and clean and decorate the pants off Martha Stewart. ”

Tracie laughed. “I’d like to see that.”

“But I feel guilty saying all this. My mom’s always been my number one supporter. You know, the kind of mother who has warm homemade cookies waiting after school, clean laundry folded and put away in your room. She knits and sews and even used to sew me dresses when I was little.”

“Sounds like Donna Reed—remember that old sitcom?”

Olivia shook her head but continued. “I’m an only child, and Mom’s always been there for me. I know I should be grateful.” Olivia cringed. “But she really makes me crazy. I used to imagine she came from another planet. Like a robot or Stepford wife. Have you ever seen that movie?”

Tracie nodded. “Okay, I get that. Sounds like a lot to grow up with. But I’ve never seen you get upset about it before. Did something trigger you today? How did she get under your skin right now?”

“It started with Malcolm. We met for coffee this morning, and he started to talk about Christmas. He’s taking vacation time and was so excited about going home and seeing everyone.

” Olivia felt a fresh wave of angst. “I told you how we grew up in the same town, went to the same school, lived in the same neighborhood.”

“Yeah. I love how you guys just chance-met after years. Sweet serendipity when you picked up your associate’s cat from the vet clinic several months ago.”

“Yeah, I’d heard Malcolm had his veterinarian degree but had no idea he practiced here in Salem.”

“I call it a God wink.”

“Yup. And so far, it’s been amazing. But now that we both plan to go home for Christmas . . . well, that’s where it gets dicey.”

“How so?”

“My parents still live near Malcolm’s parents. Right next door, in fact.”

“Sounds pretty convenient. Maybe you can combine your Christmas celebrations.”

“Think again. The ugly truth is that my mother cannot stand the McEntires. Last I heard, she won’t even speak to Cindy.”

“Oh?” Tracie’s brows arched. “So maybe your mom isn’t so perfect after all.”

Olivia solemnly nodded.

“And I’m guessing your relationship with Malcolm could be problematic for both your families during the holidays.”

“Like a Romeo and Juliet horror film.”

Tracie leaned forward. “And your parents don’t know about you and Malcolm?”

“They have no idea.” Olivia bit her lower lip.

“And everything has been so amazingly magical with Malcolm . . . I just don’t want to see it ruined.

Especially at Christmastime. It might be premature, or just my hopeful imagining, but I think he’s dropping some hints.

I have a feeling he might be thinking marriage.

Can you imagine how awkward an engagement ring for Christmas could become for our families? ”

“If Malcolm did propose, would you accept?”

“I wish I could say yes, but to be honest, I don’t know.

I mean, I love Malcolm, but I love my parents too.

I don’t want to be estranged from them. I’ve seen friends caught in the center of parental dramas before.

Not pretty. Families can really impact a marriage .

. . and with kids, well, it’s even more complicated. ”

“Yeah. I know. So, is there a reason for this family feud? Something that could somehow be repaired? Maybe you and Malcolm are meant to be the catalyst here.”

“Maybe . . . and I realize a catalyst can get things moving, but it can also blow things to pieces.” Olivia forced an uneasy smile, thinking the latter was probably more likely. This year could be a very messy Christmas.