One More for Christmas(21)

“Can I go home?” She croaked out the question, but as she could see two versions of the nurse in front of her, she wasn’t confident that the answer would be the one she wanted.

“Not yet. No one seems completely sure how long you were unconscious for, but it could have been around eight minutes. We want to keep an eye on you.”

As if she was the stock market or a currency trade.

“I want to go home.”

“No one wants to be in the hospital, but it’s the best place for you right now.”

That, Gayle thought, was debatable. Did the nurse realize how condescending she sounded? “My head hurts.”

“Yes.” The nurse turned as someone else appeared in the doorway. “Can I help you?”

Gayle saw a flash of bright scarlet and panicked. Blood? Was she bleeding in front of her eyes?

She heard the low murmur of voices and then the nurse returned to her bedside.

“You have a visitor, Gayle.”

Gayle? As if they were lifelong friends or family. Being ill was a dehumanizing experience.

The flash of scarlet moved, and Gayle realized it wasn’t blood, it was a person.

The nurse leaned closer. “Your daughter is here, Gayle.”

Daughter. Gayle moved her head, a decision that caused pain to slice through her. All that red was her daughter?

The figure stepped closer, shading the bright, overhead light. Gayle saw a slender woman in a red wool coat. A few strands of fair hair had escaped from the twist on the back of her head and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Her face was expressionless, and she paused several steps away from the bed.

Samantha! It was Samantha. And she was here, at the hospital.

As her heart lifted and flew, Gayle acknowledged just how afraid she’d been that her daughter wouldn’t come.

She thought back to the last time she’d seen Samantha, but it wasn’t a good memory so her brain touched on it and skidded away. No point in mentioning that. Best if they all ignored it and pretended it hadn’t happened. What they needed was a fresh start. Safer to talk about something safe and neutral.

But what?

What did you say when you hadn’t seen someone for five years?

“That looks like a warm coat,” she said, “although black would have been a better investment than red. That color will be out of fashion next season, and it will languish at the back of your closet.”

“Thank you for your thoughts.” Samantha’s tone was controlled. “I’m capable of deciding what to wear.”

“Well, of course you are. I was just—”

“Shall we talk about something else?”

“Let’s do that.” Gayle shrank back against the pillows, frustrated with herself for saying the wrong thing, but also frustrated with Samantha. Despite all Gayle’s best efforts, she was so sensitive. You couldn’t afford to be sensitive in such a hard, difficult world. Samantha had always been the same, although not as bad as her sister, of course. As a mother, it had been terrifying to see. You wanted your child to be strong and robust, not so fragile that the faintest tremor would rock their foundations.

Samantha had always been the tougher of the two girls. From the moment Ella was born, she’d taken on the role of older sister, even though the age gap was only ten months. Samantha had been Ella’s protector and fairy godmother rolled into one, and it had exasperated Gayle. If Ella fell, Samantha picked her up and soothed her. If there was something Ella couldn’t do, Samantha would do it for her. If it was within Samantha’s power to give her sister what she wanted, then she made it happen.

Gayle had been at her wit’s end. How was she supposed to teach Ella independence and self-reliance when her older sister stepped in to help and comfort her the whole time?

Talking to Samantha about it had got them nowhere.

I will always pick my sister up if she falls.

And what if you’re no longer around, Gayle had said. How will she get to her feet if she has never learned how?

Samantha had stuck her chin out. I will always be here.

Samantha had been determined to follow her own path and ignore every single piece of advice her mother had offered, even though everything Gayle had ever done or said had been for her benefit. If Gayle had been clever, she would have given the opposite advice in order to nudge Samantha into making good choices, but that wasn’t the way she did things.

Last time they’d met, Samantha had been openly hostile, which had shocked even Gayle.

She’d handled the whole encounter badly; she could see that now, but in her opinion Samantha’s reaction had been an extreme overreaction. Samantha was a tigress when it came to her sister, and that hadn’t changed over the years.

But she wasn’t going to think about that. Move on. It was one of the key messages in her new book Brave New You. Leave mistakes behind. Don’t carry them with you because they’ll weigh you down.

Gayle felt a prickle of exasperation. All she’d ever done was try and prepare her children for life in the real world. That was a mother’s job, wasn’t it? It was unfair to raise a child to believe everyone was good and that the world was a sunny happy place. Better to equip them with the skills to cope with the hard and bitter blows life sent. Would you send someone into battle wearing a swimsuit? No, you’d give them armor and whatever else they might need in the way of protection, and that was exactly what she’d done. She’d done everything she could to make sure her girls wouldn’t be knocked down, but if they were knocked down, then she’d given them the skills they’d need to get back on their feet again.