One More for Christmas(57)

Ella thought back to that awful day five years before. You’re a terrible mother. They were all carrying on as if those harsh words had never been said. But she hadn’t forgotten the words, and she was sure her mother wouldn’t have forgotten them, either. Could they really move forward and heal their relationship without addressing what had happened?

“I’ll talk to her when I feel the time is right.”

“That time is now. Do you want me to be with you for that conversation?”

“No, of course not. I’m not that pathetic.”

Or maybe she was that pathetic. But if she was, she didn’t want him to see it.

She sat down on the bed. “I was so looking forward to Christmas. It was going to be magical.”

“Honey, have you looked out of the window? It is as magical as can be out there, and your daughter is laughing. Sure, it’s not the way we planned on spending the holidays, but I think it will turn out to be better. I know you’re worried about your mother, but maybe this will be a turning point in your relationship.”

He always saw the potential and not the pitfalls.

“When you drown me with optimism I don’t know whether to hug you or hate you.” But he was right, of course. Tab was laughing, they were staying on the edge of a snowy forest and beyond the doors of the house were real reindeer. It was a child’s idea of a winter wonderland.

He tugged her to her feet. “Give it all you’ve got. If she doesn’t respond, then at least you know you did all you could.”

She knew he was right. She was a grown woman with a job she loved and a family she adored. She was proud of what she did and who she was, so why was she so afraid to be honest with her mother?

“I still want her approval. Why do I need that?”

“I think it’s called being human.” Michael nudged her toward the door. “Join in. Maybe Tab is exactly what both of you need. She might bring you together.”

Ella wasn’t so confident.

She walked with Michael down the wide, sweeping staircase, feeling as if she was being judged by all the ancestors staring down at her from the paintings. What was it like to have family stretching back for centuries? She didn’t even have a photograph of her father, and her mother refused to talk about him.

Maybe Ella should push the issue and try and get her to talk. If she’d come here on her honeymoon, then maybe that was a good place to start.

Kirstie stood stiffly in the hallway. “We’ve laid breakfast in the dining room.”

“Thank you.” Ella turned to Michael. “You go ahead. I’ll go and get Tab and Mom. Oh wait—do you have a carrot?” When Kirstie looked blank, Ella smiled. “My daughter is building a snowman.”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Kirstie smiled. “I’ll fetch one from the kitchen.”

She was back moments later with a suitably shaped carrot, and Ella left Michael to continue thawing the frozen Kirstie, and stepped out the front door.

The overnight fall of snow had turned the grounds into a magical shimmering landscape. The storm had left the trees thickly coated, the driveway and the lawns leading down to the loch transformed into a field of white streaked with silver as the sun danced across the ice crystals.

Ella breathed in the crisp air and curled her hands into fists to warm them against the icy bite of the winter weather.

She smelled woodsmoke and the sharp aroma of pine and fir. She was dazzled by silver and snow and realized that this was the atmosphere they all tried to re-create in their homes. People bought fake trees covered in fake snow in an attempt to reproduce the wintry charm of the forest. Only now did she realize what a poor imitation it really was.

She glanced back at the lodge. Snow clung to the turrets and a curl of smoke emerged from one of the chimneys. It was a completely perfect place to spend Christmas.

If she could find a way to heal things with her mother, then maybe everything would turn out well.

Two pairs of footsteps, one much larger than the other, wound their way through the otherwise pristine surface, and she followed the trail around the house and found Tab and her mother engrossed in the construction of their snowman.

“He needs a bigger head.” Tab smacked the snow with her hand and then glanced up. “Mommy!”

Ella’s heart melted. “Hi there! Having fun?”

“Yes. I wanted to bring Bear but we couldn’t find him.” Tab stroked and smoothed the snowman.

“You’ve been busy.”

Her mother’s cheeks were pink. “You didn’t have to join us. You could have slept in. I thought you and Michael could probably use some time together.”

In any other circumstances it would have been a thoughtful gesture. But her mother wasn’t a regular babysitter, and this wasn’t a normal situation.

“I woke up and found Tab’s room empty.” Ella dug her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I didn’t know where she was.”

“She was with me.”

“But—” She doesn’t know you. “I was worried, that’s all.”

“She’s not likely to come to much harm in a place like this.”

Ella glanced around the snowy wilderness. It would take a year to list the number of potential accidents. She took a deep breath and remembered Michael’s words.