My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(60)

“Evenings?” Donna asked. And at Angie’s angry look and renewed stiff posture, she said, “All right, all right—not my business. You’re an adult. It was a slip. Lighten up. My God, you’d think I was the worst mother imaginable!”

Angie thought back to all her mom had done for her, especially since her accident. “You’re a wonderful mother and I love you. But it would probably be best if you turned around and went right back home before we clash. Big-time.”

“Give me a chance, Ange. I won’t crowd you and, if I do, call me on it. But play fair, sweetheart. You haven’t been all that easy on me, either.”

“Agreed. But this is different. I only have a little time left with Patrick and I like him. I like him so much—and he’s special. It’s understood we have to go our separate ways—he has a military commitment and I have goals of my own. But who knows? If you don’t totally screw this up, maybe we’ll stay in touch or something. Now, what do you mean by not crowding me?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll be at the clinic during the day and I hope that I’ll spend the evening with Patrick as usual. But I can spare a little time. Just a little.”

“Lunch at your favorite bar and grill?”

“I can do that,” Angie said. “Now let’s go inside. I’ll finish my wine, you can have something to drink with us. Then we’ll be leaving and you’ll be headed to Jack’s. I’ll be at the clinic at nine in the morning. Seriously, Mother, if you mess this up for me, it’ll be a long time before we’re speaking again.”

“You certainly found your mettle,” Donna mumbled. “All right, all right. Consider the message received.”

“Good,” Angie said. She opened the door to the bar and held it for her mother to enter. They sat back at the bar.

“Something to drink, Donna?” Jack asked her.

“Merlot?”

“Coming up. How was the drive up?”

“Uneventful, until the grocery store parking lot.”

“That new battery working out for you?” Patrick asked.

“Perfect. You really were sweet to go out of your way like that.”

“It was no trouble.”

“And what are you two doing this evening?” she asked.

“Well, I have something in the Crock-Pot—since Angie was busy all day, I cooked. You’re welcome to join us....”

“I’m afraid my mother has plans, Patrick.” Angie took a sip of her wine, then left it on the bar and stood. “And we should probably get going.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t pick on Jack.”

Angie and Patrick stood on the porch for a second to regroup.

“That was awkward,” he said.

“My mother. There’s a reason all her siblings call her a force of nature.”

He laughed. “You haven’t met my mother. Nature calls her a force of nature.”

“At least your mother isn’t here!”

“Ride home with me,” he said, putting an arm around her. “I’ll bring you back for your car early in the morning. Before the town wakes up.”

“I’d like that.”

When they were under way, he asked, “Are things between us going to change a lot with your mother here?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. I’m a little angry with her for coming without notice. If she’d called and told me she was missing me, that she was looking for a reunion to get back on good terms, I would have been honest with her. I’d have told her about you and asked her to hold off. I’ll see her at Christmas. Even before I met you, I needed space. My mother’s been driving me nuts!”

“Really? Like how?”

She told him about some of the arguments they’d had over the past few months. “She’s convinced I’ve gone through a personality change since my injuries.”

“I like your personality,” he said, reaching for her hand.

“I realize I’m a little different. It’s deliberate. I don’t want to spend my life so one-dimensionally—I want more balance. I don’t need another shrink to give me permission to do that.”

“Another shrink?” he asked, looking at her.

“A little counseling after a fatal accident is reasonable, but my mother has trucked me off to more than one psychiatrist to check my brain. I think she wants the old Angie back. She’d gotten used to that person—the new me is someone she was unprepared for.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I like the handful I’ve got now. Did I tell you I spent some time with a shrink? After the crash?”

“No. How was it?”

“Boring. But that’s how I managed to get assigned six weeks of leave. It was my PTSD. The nightmares.”

“Are you different now?” she asked.

“Probably.”

“I like you now, too,” she said with a smile.

“Listen, don’t make things harder with your mother than they have to be. I’m a flash in the pan—your family is forever.” He turned onto the drive to his house.

“If she screws up this flash, I’m going to be furious.”