My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(40)

Brie lifted her head. “It’s definitely dramatic.”

“It’s honorable! It’s positive! People do it all the time! Why wouldn’t you—?”

“I’m going to go ahead and suggest you not hit Donna with that one right now and I’ll tell you why. It’s not a bad thing in any way, Ange. You’re right—it’s honorable and positive. And it’s a dramatic change in course—change being the operative word. You went from being a student with very specific goals to a dropout with a whole new plan. And all this follows you being in a catastrophic accident—it smells like a paradigm shift. That worries people who love you.”

“You?”

Brie shrugged. “Not so much. You don’t seem too out of character. You’ve always been a generous person with a big heart. But if you start freeing zoo animals or chaining yourself to trees…”

“Oh, please—I’m not even getting slightly radical.”

“Plowing fields in Africa versus attending classes at USC is something of a radical shift. Listen. Your mother is wonderful and I love her and she’s helped me through more than one crisis in my life, but she is rigid. She doesn’t like change. She doesn’t adjust well—it takes her a long time. She’s very comfortable being in control—not so much when the people she’s controlling step out of line.”

“Thus, the hang-ups,” Angie said dryly. “But this whole thing just doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me. Sure, it’s a big change. But isn’t it expected—normal, even—for a person to change their perspective on life after a near-death experience? The accident helped me to see what is really important in this world, and it showed me that I’m strong enough to be a part of it. I thought my mom might understand that.”

“You and your mom have had a very close, very mutually supportive relationship. We need to get that back for both of you before you spring something like this on her.”

“I’m not going to pretend to follow her trajectory for me just so we can be on good terms. I want my own life, not the one she outlined for me. And I love her, too. But, Brie—”

“I completely understand. But can we at least slow down a bit and ease her into the idea that you want something of your own design? That you’re ready and capable of deciding some things for yourself? Can we be more reasonable about this?”

“When she pushes on me, I just can’t deal with it. I have to hang up.”

“Or maybe try something like, ‘That’s an interesting suggestion, Mom, let me think about that for a while.’”

Angie ran a hand through her hair. “That doesn’t slow her down. She can be relentless.”

“Follow with ‘Let’s talk about this later, Mom. Brie needs me to babysit.’ I’ll cover for you. Let’s just give her time, that’s all I’m saying.”

“It’s not like I’m shipping out tomorrow. It’s not that easy to get into the peace corps, you know.”

“I know. And given all you’ve been through, I don’t find it a strange idea,” Brie said. “How about your stay here so far? Almost a week in that little cabin, hanging out around town, helping in the clinic? How’s it going?”

Angie grinned. “I love it so much. You people really have it made, in a rough sort of way. I know you have lots of challenges here but you have exceptional beauty every day. And the challenges have made all of you closer. Look at me. I just got to town and I’ve already found a project that needs me. I love Mel’s clinic—it’s perfect. The town relies on her—do you know how great that is?”

“I do,” Brie said.

“And you were running away to this town to fall in love—and look at what you bring to the whole county. I’m sure it’s not as high dollar as Sacramento County D.A.’s office, but doesn’t it feel good?”

“Most days,” she agreed with a smile.

“I do love it here. I always have,” Angie said.

“And how about that little crush we talked about last weekend?” Brie asked. “What’s up with that?”

“Brie, it was never little....”

“Oh, that’s right—you described it as world-class.”

“Yes. And full-blown.” Then Angie’s cheeks pinkened, though she tried to smile through it.

“Full-blown?” Brie asked weakly.

“I’m seeing him. We’re trying to be discreet so Jack doesn’t get…you know, how he gets.”

“Seeing?” Brie asked. But she shook her head. Did she not want the answer?

Angie took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as she answered. “He’s wonderful. I adore him. And until I have to give him up, I’m going to love every inch of him.”

“Oh, God…” Brie’s eyes grew round and her mouth hung open, then she let her head fall to the kitchen table with a thunk, again.

* * *

Brie and Angie had always been close. When Brie was a tot, her big brother Jack carted her around, spoiled her, fussed over her. And then he went off to the Marine Corps when she was only five. When Angie was born, twelve-year-old Brie couldn’t be around her enough. She was more a big sister than aunt—her babysitter and confidante.