One More for Christmas(12)

Of all the words Samantha could have used to describe her mother, that wouldn’t have been on her list. But she was aware of how many people—women especially—admired her.

Gayle Mitchell had a way of inspiring and reaching people. The only people she seemed unable to connect with were her daughters.

Samantha felt a pressure in her chest. How could she feel hurt? After all these years, why didn’t she have that under control?

“Choice Not Chance changed my life,” Amanda said. “It’s brilliant, isn’t it?”

Should she admit that she’d never read it? She’d used it as a drinks mat, a dartboard and a doorstop. But never once opened it. That was her choice, wasn’t it?

“Did her assistant say why she was calling?”

“Well, kind of... I don’t know an easy way to say this. It’s going to be a shock...” Amanda sent Charlotte a desperate look. “Your mother is in the hospital.”

Samantha stared at her. “What?”

“Hospital. She’s in the hospital.”

“That’s not possible. My mother hasn’t had a single sick day in her life.”

“Her assistant said something about an accident. He said you need to get to the hospital because she’s asking for you.”

Her mother was asking for her? Why? Gayle Mitchell was nothing if not practical. If she was injured, she’d be asking for a doctor—not her daughter. Especially as they hadn’t seen each other since that last disastrous occasion.

She glanced round as Sandra, the intern, ran into the room.

Samantha wondered if her relaxed open-door policy needed rethinking.

“Your mother is on TV!”

Samantha didn’t ask how she knew Gayle Mitchell was her mother. They’d obviously all been chatting.

Sandra had grabbed the remote control and switched on the large screen on the wall. And there was her mother, tumbling from a chair, her normal poise deserting her as she flailed. What was that thing in her hand? It looked like a lump of granite.

Samantha winced as her mother crash-landed. She’d forgotten her mother was mortal. Capable of bleeding.

Anxiety washed over her. She found her mother aggravating, frustrating and many other things—but she didn’t want her to actually die.

She shifted on the spot to try and ease the discomfort of guilt. She should have reached out. Tried to open a dialogue. Explained how hurt she and Ella were. But they’d both been waiting for their mother to apologize for being so unsupportive, and then time had passed, and...

What if she’d left it too late?

Numb, she stared at the screen, watching as staff scurried round, as EMTs arrived. Lying there, still and bleeding, her mother looked vulnerable. Samantha couldn’t think of a single time in her life when her mother had looked vulnerable. Gayle Mitchell didn’t do vulnerable.

“Oh my—that had to hurt,” Charlotte whispered. “Why would they film this stuff? It’s so intrusive. Can you sue someone? Wow, that’s a lot of blood. Is that normal?”

Samantha pointed the remote at the screen and turned it off.

Her heart was punching her ribs, her pulse galloping.

Had her sister seen it? Ella would be upset. Despite everything that had happened, she still yearned to be a warm, close-knit family. She’d talked about making contact with their mother, but in the end she’d been too afraid of rejection to take the plunge.

Samantha had forgotten the other people in the room until she felt Charlotte’s hand on her arm.

“You’re in shock—and that’s not surprising. Come and sit down.”

Samantha extracted herself. “I’m fine.”

Charlotte exchanged looks with Amanda. “We know you’re not fine, boss. You don’t have to pretend with us. We’re like a family here. And this is your mom we’re talking about. I mean, if it was my mother I’d be in pieces.”

If it had been Charlotte’s mother, Samantha would have been in pieces, too. Charlotte’s mother dropped by the office frequently with Amy, bringing with her homemade baked goods and a level of maternal warmth that Samantha had never before encountered.

But this wasn’t Charlotte’s mother. It was her mother.

“The phone call...” Her voice didn’t sound like her own. “Did he say how bad she is?”

If she was dead, they would have said so on TV, wouldn’t they?

Not dead. But seriously injured, if the film footage was accurate.

And Samantha was going to have to go to the hospital.

Her conscience wouldn’t let her do otherwise.

This was her mother, and Samantha wasn’t a monster.

She had to ignore the fact that her mother hadn’t been present for any of the emotional highs and lows of her life. And the fact that, if it had been Samantha in the hospital, her mother probably wouldn’t have come. She didn’t want to model herself on her mother. When faced with a situation that required judgment, she often thought What would my mother do? and was then careful to do the opposite.

Which answered her own question.

She turned to Charlotte. “Call the assistant back and tell him I’m on my way. Clear my schedule. I’ll go to New York tonight.”

Charlotte nodded. “No worries. Totally understood. I mean, it’s your mother, right?”