My Kind of Christmas
Page 28
“I’m not convinced we won’t. Yet.”
Donna relaxed her stance. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that. Now, Ange, tell me about him. About Patrick.”
“He’s just a Navy guy on leave. He has to head back to Charleston before Christmas. I’ve been…dating him. As much as one dates in Virgin River. The fact that he happens to be the most wonderful man who ever drew breath is just a bonus. I’ve been working on arranging Megan’s surgery, but we spend evenings together.”
“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.”
“Nah, don’t get mad. Everything will turn out. We’ll manage just—” He stopped shy of the house and just stared. A very fancy RV was parked next to the house. “Oh, God, this isn’t happening to me.”
“What?” she asked.
“My mother.”
“No way!”
“Way,” he said tiredly.
She took a breath. “Talk about awkward.”
Chapter Thirteen
“How long has this been going on?” Donna asked Jack.
“Since the day she walked into town,” he answered. “The second she saw him. I couldn’t have shot her out of a gun faster.”
“And you didn’t tell me because…?”
Jack put down the towel and the glass he was polishing. “Listen, it’s hard for me to see Angie as an adult—I keep flashing back to that little blonde in pigtails and glasses, taking apart anything that wasn’t under guard, acing spelling bees, sitting on my lap and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. I want her to be a child again, but she’s not. She lacks experience, I know that. She’s still a little like a fawn—kind of clumsy and immature in certain parts of her life. But, Jesus, Donna—do you remember being twenty-three?”
“Vaguely…”
“You were engaged! And we both know you weren’t exactly a virgin on your wedding night.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah—enough!”
“Mom kept saying, ‘Not my Donna—she’s too busy studying to have sex!’ What a crock.”
“I did study!”
“You were so damn smart you had time to make the honor roll and Tommy Maxwell! You somehow flew under the radar and Mom and Dad never monitored you the way you’ve strapped yourself to Angie.”
“They had five kids! They were a little busy. And Angie—special circumstances. We used to be so close....”
Jack leaned close. “I don’t want her to grow up and have her own life, either, Donna. We always want our kids to stay young and innocent forever. But she isn’t brain damaged—she’s a twenty-three-year-old woman who’s doing what comes naturally.”
“And if I’m not ready?” Donna asked.
Jack took a moment. “You’ll lose her,” he said softly. “And I’m counting on you to come back when Emma’s a young lady to remind me of this conversation.” Then the door to the bar opened and Mel came in. “Thank God,” Jack said. “The cavalry.”
* * *
Maureen Riordan was apparently not feeling as polite as Patrick had hoped—she checked the cabin door and, finding it unlocked, entered. With her was her partner, George Davenport. The two of them shared the big RV and drove between extended family and vacation spots. Retired senior citizens living in sin—and loving every minute of it.
When Patrick and Angie entered the cabin, they found George sitting in front of a fire and Maureen enjoying the kitchen, more spacious than that in the RV. “Mom?” Patrick said.
“Paddy!” she said excitedly. She rushed to him, though he held Angie’s hand. “How are you, my love?”
“I’m…fine… Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I haven’t seen you since Jake’s memorial and have hardly talked to you at all. When I did talk to you, you just didn’t sound yourself. I wanted to see for myself.” Then she shifted her eyes to Angie and gave a smile. “Hello.”
“Mom, this is Angie LaCroix, here on vacation, visiting her uncle, Jack Sheridan.”
Maureen put out a hand and her smile widened. “Ah, Jack! A fine man. So nice to meet you, Angie. I’m Maureen. And this is George. Paddy, I’m so glad the door was unlocked—I think that’s my beef recipe in the Crock-Pot. I started the potatoes and lucky for you I had homemade rolls in the freezer in the RV. I found the cake—if I’d known, I’d have baked one for you.”
Patrick was thinking that if he’d known, he wouldn’t have left a forwarding address. “I take it you’re free for dinner.”
“We wouldn’t want to impose,” George said. “Kind of looks like date night…”
“You’re not imposing,” Angie said. “We were going to have dinner and play Scrabble.”
Patrick glared at her.
“By all means, join us,” Angie said.
“But you’re hooking up the RV at Luke’s, right?”
“Of course we will. We’re not going to be able to get to Luke’s tonight, as it is. That snow over the dirt on that narrow drive of yours—I think it’s best to wait until morning.”
“Morning?” Patrick said weakly.
Maureen just laughed. “We’ll stay in the RV, of course. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is, driving your home around the country.”
“Mother, do Luke and Colin know you’re here?”
“No, not yet,” she said, looking surprised. “I intend to see them, of course, but you’re the one leaving to go back to Charleston soon. I just couldn’t help myself. Paddy, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“I just want to spoil you a little bit, honey.”
His mother was the last person Patrick was in the mood to be spoiled by. But Angie was shrugging out of her jacket, letting Patrick take it. “I’ll help set the table,” she offered.
Patrick just stood there and watched as his mother swept Angie into the kitchen, chattering away about getting the recipe for the rolls from Kelly and explaining Kelly’s connection to the family—Colin’s girlfriend’s sister. Angie got right into it, explaining she had just helped bake the same rolls for the Christmas baskets. At that, Maureen became very excited—she and George might even be able to help with the baskets this year.
“Just shoot me,” Patrick muttered.
George put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get her out of here early,” George said. “Right after she does the dishes, because she’s going to insist on doing the dishes.”
Donna relaxed her stance. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that. Now, Ange, tell me about him. About Patrick.”
“He’s just a Navy guy on leave. He has to head back to Charleston before Christmas. I’ve been…dating him. As much as one dates in Virgin River. The fact that he happens to be the most wonderful man who ever drew breath is just a bonus. I’ve been working on arranging Megan’s surgery, but we spend evenings together.”
“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.”
“Nah, don’t get mad. Everything will turn out. We’ll manage just—” He stopped shy of the house and just stared. A very fancy RV was parked next to the house. “Oh, God, this isn’t happening to me.”
“What?” she asked.
“My mother.”
“No way!”
“Way,” he said tiredly.
She took a breath. “Talk about awkward.”
Chapter Thirteen
“How long has this been going on?” Donna asked Jack.
“Since the day she walked into town,” he answered. “The second she saw him. I couldn’t have shot her out of a gun faster.”
“And you didn’t tell me because…?”
Jack put down the towel and the glass he was polishing. “Listen, it’s hard for me to see Angie as an adult—I keep flashing back to that little blonde in pigtails and glasses, taking apart anything that wasn’t under guard, acing spelling bees, sitting on my lap and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. I want her to be a child again, but she’s not. She lacks experience, I know that. She’s still a little like a fawn—kind of clumsy and immature in certain parts of her life. But, Jesus, Donna—do you remember being twenty-three?”
“Vaguely…”
“You were engaged! And we both know you weren’t exactly a virgin on your wedding night.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah—enough!”
“Mom kept saying, ‘Not my Donna—she’s too busy studying to have sex!’ What a crock.”
“I did study!”
“You were so damn smart you had time to make the honor roll and Tommy Maxwell! You somehow flew under the radar and Mom and Dad never monitored you the way you’ve strapped yourself to Angie.”
“They had five kids! They were a little busy. And Angie—special circumstances. We used to be so close....”
Jack leaned close. “I don’t want her to grow up and have her own life, either, Donna. We always want our kids to stay young and innocent forever. But she isn’t brain damaged—she’s a twenty-three-year-old woman who’s doing what comes naturally.”
“And if I’m not ready?” Donna asked.
Jack took a moment. “You’ll lose her,” he said softly. “And I’m counting on you to come back when Emma’s a young lady to remind me of this conversation.” Then the door to the bar opened and Mel came in. “Thank God,” Jack said. “The cavalry.”
* * *
Maureen Riordan was apparently not feeling as polite as Patrick had hoped—she checked the cabin door and, finding it unlocked, entered. With her was her partner, George Davenport. The two of them shared the big RV and drove between extended family and vacation spots. Retired senior citizens living in sin—and loving every minute of it.
When Patrick and Angie entered the cabin, they found George sitting in front of a fire and Maureen enjoying the kitchen, more spacious than that in the RV. “Mom?” Patrick said.
“Paddy!” she said excitedly. She rushed to him, though he held Angie’s hand. “How are you, my love?”
“I’m…fine… Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I haven’t seen you since Jake’s memorial and have hardly talked to you at all. When I did talk to you, you just didn’t sound yourself. I wanted to see for myself.” Then she shifted her eyes to Angie and gave a smile. “Hello.”
“Mom, this is Angie LaCroix, here on vacation, visiting her uncle, Jack Sheridan.”
Maureen put out a hand and her smile widened. “Ah, Jack! A fine man. So nice to meet you, Angie. I’m Maureen. And this is George. Paddy, I’m so glad the door was unlocked—I think that’s my beef recipe in the Crock-Pot. I started the potatoes and lucky for you I had homemade rolls in the freezer in the RV. I found the cake—if I’d known, I’d have baked one for you.”
Patrick was thinking that if he’d known, he wouldn’t have left a forwarding address. “I take it you’re free for dinner.”
“We wouldn’t want to impose,” George said. “Kind of looks like date night…”
“You’re not imposing,” Angie said. “We were going to have dinner and play Scrabble.”
Patrick glared at her.
“By all means, join us,” Angie said.
“But you’re hooking up the RV at Luke’s, right?”
“Of course we will. We’re not going to be able to get to Luke’s tonight, as it is. That snow over the dirt on that narrow drive of yours—I think it’s best to wait until morning.”
“Morning?” Patrick said weakly.
Maureen just laughed. “We’ll stay in the RV, of course. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is, driving your home around the country.”
“Mother, do Luke and Colin know you’re here?”
“No, not yet,” she said, looking surprised. “I intend to see them, of course, but you’re the one leaving to go back to Charleston soon. I just couldn’t help myself. Paddy, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“I just want to spoil you a little bit, honey.”
His mother was the last person Patrick was in the mood to be spoiled by. But Angie was shrugging out of her jacket, letting Patrick take it. “I’ll help set the table,” she offered.
Patrick just stood there and watched as his mother swept Angie into the kitchen, chattering away about getting the recipe for the rolls from Kelly and explaining Kelly’s connection to the family—Colin’s girlfriend’s sister. Angie got right into it, explaining she had just helped bake the same rolls for the Christmas baskets. At that, Maureen became very excited—she and George might even be able to help with the baskets this year.
“Just shoot me,” Patrick muttered.
George put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get her out of here early,” George said. “Right after she does the dishes, because she’s going to insist on doing the dishes.”
