One More for Christmas(89)

She felt raw and vulnerable. Right at that moment she would have given anything just to escape outdoors and hug a reindeer. Or Brodie.

The fun they’d shared the day before felt as if it had happened in another life.

She paused outside their mother’s room. The door was ajar.

Ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach, she tapped on the door, gave it a little push and immediately saw that the room was empty.

“She’s not here.” And the relief was incredible. The conversation she didn’t want to have was going to have to wait.

“But all her things are still here, so I don’t think she’s left.” Ella followed her into the room. “Maybe Brodie will know where she is. Unless he arranged a car for her, she has to be somewhere in the house, right?”

“Right.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how fantastic he was. All that talk of ratios, pi, angles, velocity—what a hero. I’ve never heard a more convincing argument for the existence of Santa. I ended up believing it myself. I’m going to have to hang up a stocking.”

“You always hang up a stocking.” Distracted by the books on her mother’s nightstand, Samantha was only half listening.

“I know. And you always fill it. Which is why you’re Santa Sam. I think you’re—What? What are you looking at?”

Samantha picked up the stack of books and sat down on the bed. “Have you seen these?”

“No. Don’t tell me she’s reading Highland romance, too?”

Samantha didn’t answer. The anger drained out of her and she handed the first book to her sister.

“Be the Best Grandparent Ever.” Ella stared at it and then sat down next to her. “Oh.”

“And then there’s this one Grandparenting Skills for Beginners—” Samantha passed it over. “And this one. Nanny or Nanna? A Guide to Building a Relationship with Your Grandchild. She’s really been trying.” And it didn’t make sense. Why then had she been so careless around Tab?

“Have you seen this?” Ella was flicking through one of the books. “She’s written notes in the margin.”

Samantha glanced over her shoulder. “And underlined passages. ‘Remember you’re not the parent.’”

“‘Be careful not to impose your views.’”

“I should have paid more attention to that part.” Their mother’s voice came from the doorway, and they both turned, guilty, books still in their hands.

Gayle stepped inside the room. “I ordered those books the day you came to my apartment in Manhattan. I was determined to get it right, but I underestimated how hard that would be. I’m sorry for what I said about—” their mother broke off and glanced over her shoulder, checking that Tab wasn’t nearby “—you know who. I promise I’ll find a way to join in with the magic. I’ll try harder. I can do this.”

Ella made a sound, dumped the books on the bed and hurried across to their mother. “I know you can. We’ll find a way. I overreacted, because I’m protective of Tab.” She put her arms round their mother, while Samantha sat there, stiff and awkward, envying her sister’s ability to show her emotions so readily.

She watched, feeling out of her depth as her mother patted Ella’s arm.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Gayle pulled away. “You wanted to give your baby a magical moment, and I almost ruined it. Hopefully I didn’t. Brodie seems to be a quick thinking person.”

Had her mother been crying?

Her eyes looked a little puffy and swollen.

Ella obviously thought so too, because she gathered up the books from the bed and then put them down again. “Are you all right, Mom? You look—your eyes are a little red.”

“Allergies. Probably the dog. I’ve taken medication.” Gayle paused and then closed the door of the room. “Actually, that isn’t true. I have been crying.”

“Oh Mom!” Ella’s voice thickened. “I am sorry I upset you so badly.”

“Not you. I managed it all by myself. And I think it’s time I talked to you both. Properly.” Gayle sat down on the chair. “I should have done it a long time ago.”

“Talk to us about what?”

“About your father.”

Ella sent a guilty glance toward Samantha. “Honestly, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t have asked. I—”

“Sit down, Ella.” Gayle spoke quietly. “This isn’t going to be easy to say, but it isn’t going to be easy for you to hear, either. Let me speak, and when I’ve said everything I want to say, you can ask your questions. And I promise to answer them. All of them. Anything you want to ask.”

Ella sat back down on the bed next to her sister.

Samantha couldn’t shift the sick feeling in her stomach. Was she the only one finding this uncomfortable? Her mother was about to make some sort of confession, but she couldn’t help thinking that they didn’t have a solid enough relationship to support that level of intimacy. It meant adding another dubious ingredient to the already unpalatable soup of emotions that were sloshing round inside her.

Gayle kept her hands in her lap. Fingers locked. Knuckles white. “There are things I haven’t told you.”

“About Dad?” Ella shifted a little closer to Samantha.