One more for christmas, p.6
One More for Christmas, page 6
And now she was a mother. She wasn’t building a career, she was building a family. She was building walls around their little unit that would shelter and protect.
Across the kitchen, her phone buzzed in her bag.
Ella ignored it.
Tab pointed. “That’s your phone.”
“I know, sweetie.”
“You should answer it.”
“The phone does not take priority over our conversation just because it’s loud and intrusive.”
“It might be important.”
“But it won’t be more important than spending time with you.” Ella kissed Tab on the forehead, loving the warmth and smoothness of her skin. She smelled of rose and vanilla, of youth and hope. Her eyes were bright and interested. Ella loved this age, where they soaked up the world and tried to make sense of their surroundings. The why, why, why drove some of the other mothers into a state of ferocious frustration, but not Ella. She wanted to freeze time, to hold on to this perfect moment and never let it slip away. She wanted to always be this close and in tune with her daughter. She loathed the phone, hating the way it could intrude into a conversation, or shatter a romantic moment. She resented its insistent, insidious infiltration of daily life. It was the destroyer of intimacy and the glutton of time, consuming it in greedy mouthfuls. Given the choice, she wouldn’t have carried one at all, but Michael insisted.
The phone stopped ringing and she relaxed, only to tense again when it started a moment later.
Tabitha fingered the rest of the broccoli. “What if it’s Aunty Sam?”
“She wouldn’t ring me in the middle of the day—she’s too busy.” On the other hand, what if it was Sam? Or Michael? She had the phone for emergencies. What if this was it?
Ella caved and walked across the kitchen, stepping over Tab’s dolls and a small mountain of dressing-up clothes as she reached for her purse.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tabitha hurl the broccoli under the table and was about to say something when her phone lit up with her sister’s name.
She snatched it up. Her sister never phoned during the day. “Sam? If you’re calling to tell me how many sleeps it is until Christmas, we have it up on the wall here. Tab made a chart. We’re checking off the days.”
“I—No. Not that. Have you watched TV today?”
“No. You know I never watch daytime TV.” She picked up a red crayon that had been abandoned on the floor. “Tab and I started our day at Mini Musicians, where she gave a virtuoso performance on the cymbals—my ears are still ringing. Then we went for a walk in the park and came home via that cute fabric shop, where we bought an incredible gold lamé that we are going to make into a dress that Millicent is going to wear to the ball. But first we are making Christmas cards.”
“Millicent? Oh, the doll. I forgot.”
“You were the one who bought her Millicent. It’s her favorite.”
“When your favorite niece asks for a doll, she gets a doll.”
Ella smiled and glanced across at her daughter, shaking her head as she saw Tab about to hide another piece of broccoli. “You spoil her. Trouble is, I do, too.”
“It’s love, not spoiling. And Tab is lucky. Look, I need to—Ella, I need to talk to you.”
Ella walked back to her daughter, gave her a severe look and held up another stalk of broccoli. “Go ahead. And why are you asking me about TV? What did I miss? Did they do something on your company? You found a new Christmas movie for us to binge watch?”
There was a pause. “It’s our mother.”
Ella dropped the broccoli on the floor.
Tab cheered and punched the air.
Ella sat down, keeping the smile on her face so that Tab wouldn’t guess that anything was wrong. “What about her?”
“She’s in the hospital, but she’s fine.” Samantha was calm and matter-of-fact. “I mean, this is our mother and she’s indestructible. I’m dealing with it, but I didn’t want you to see the news on TV and panic. Ella? Are you okay? Say something.”
Ella felt pressure in her chest. “How do you know? Did she call you?”
“Her assistant left a message with my assistant.”
Tycoon telecommunications.
“But she must have asked them to. She must have wanted us to know. How did she even know you’d moved?” Something fluttered to life beneath the layers of anxiety. Hope? “How bad? Was it a heart attack?”
“Accident.”
“Car?”
“She fell off a chair and one of her awards smashed her on the head. Unfortunately she was recording an interview at the time so the footage is colorful. Don’t watch it.”
Tabitha frowned. “Mommy? Your face is looking funny. And a car can’t have a heart attack.”
Ella forced herself to breathe and behave normally. “I’m fine, honey.”
“You look weird. Maybe you need broccoli. Vitamins.” Tab thrust her last stalk toward her and Ella took it.
She felt weak and vulnerable, as she always did when she thought of her mother.
She also felt guilty, because thinking of her mother always induced feelings of guilt.
Guilt that she hadn’t somehow made the most of her life.
Guilt that she’d disappointed a parent who had sacrificed so much for her.
I can’t believe a daughter of mine would make such bad choices.
“Which hospital?” She found a pen and scribbled it down as Samantha told her. “I can be in Manhattan in under three hours.”
She lived in a small coastal town in Connecticut, that was perfect for families. Far enough away from the city that her previous life there seemed distant.
“You don’t have to. Focus on Tab. No sense in us both suffering. I’ve got this. Charlotte’s already booked me onto a flight from Logan to LGA. I’ll be at the hospital by this evening, and I’ll stay the night in the city and call you as soon as I’ve spoken to the doctors and understand what’s going on.”
Ella was about to ask why she was planning on staying the night, and then realized that with the timing, her sister wouldn’t have any choice. And unless she wanted to get a very late train home, she wouldn’t have a choice, either.
Ella knew she had to go, too, but she hadn’t spent the night away from Tab since she was born. Her pulse started to thump a warning. “I’ll come. I just need to message Michael.”
“You will not. First, you don’t need to because you’re not coming. And second, you don’t need to because you’re not coming.”
It was so tempting to simply let her sister take the strain of it, but Ella knew she couldn’t do that. They stuck together. They always had, and they always would. She wouldn’t let Samantha do this alone any more than Samantha would let her do it. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. If she’s asking for us, we should both go. And we can share a hotel room and make it fun. Hold on one moment—” She held the phone in front of her and typed a quick message. “Okay. Done.”
“After what happened last time—the way she spoke to you.” Samantha’s voice shook a little. “Honestly, Ella. Don’t go.”
“She’s—” Ella glanced at Tab, who was listening intently. “I have to.”
“Why? Because we’re her daughters? She’s more interested in inspiring and lifting up a stranger, than she is in supporting us.”
“I know. But I won’t be like her. I won’t. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. And I know you feel the same.”
“I do.” Samantha sighed. “All right. I’ll meet you there. But please reassure me that your expectations are realistic. She is not going to clasp you to her bosom and say how much she loves you and how proud she is of everything you’ve achieved.”
“Do you think she is finally going to apologize?”
There was a pause. “I doubt it. Not after five years.”
“But she called us!” Ella lowered her voice and walked to the opposite end of the kitchen so that Tab couldn’t hear every word. “That’s her reaching out. That has to be a good sign.”
“You are such an optimist. Which I love, but it scares me. We don’t know why she’s reaching out. And if you go there thinking that this is all going to end happily, you’ll be hurt again and I can’t bear that. I know you can’t talk properly because you have Tab there, but you do know what I’m saying, don’t you?”
“Yes. Are you okay?” Ella quickly glanced at Tab. “You sound stressed.”
“I’m fine. Not my best day, that’s all.”
“Work or Kyle?”
“Kyle and I broke up. My fault and my choice, but it’s still stress. This Mom thing isn’t helping.”
Ella kept her mouth shut. In her opinion, Kyle had been as exciting as a piece of dried fruit, but she knew better than to say so. Her sister’s relationships were a no-go area. The one thing they never talked about in depth.
“How did the assistant even get your number? We’ve both moved since we last saw her.”
“I assume they looked me up on the internet.”
“It must have been a pretty shocking call.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a few of those today.”
Ella frowned. “You’ve had more than one bad phone call?”
“Forget it.”
“I want to hear about it.”
“I can’t yet talk about it without wanting to die of humiliation.”
Intrigued, Ella was about to ask another question when she heard the sound of Michael’s key in the door. “I need to go—Michael is home. Text me the details of the hospital and I’ll see you there.”
Ella dropped her phone into her purse.
Hospital. Her mother. She was going to see her mother.
Michael strode into the room and immediately her tension eased and her breathing settled.
Meeting him had changed her world. She never felt less when she was with Michael. He made her feel interesting, important and confident in her decisions. He made her feel like success.
Her husband, her little girl, her big sister—they were her world. She’d made the family she’d always wanted.
“Daddy! Hug, hug, hug.” Tab shot out of her chair and sprinted across to him. He caught her and swung her high in the air.
“How’s my girl?” His gaze found Ella’s, and she knew that although he was holding Tab, he was talking to her. He’d seen her message and immediately come home. He knew how difficult this would be for her.
And she wouldn’t talk about it in front of Tab.
“I’m doing okay.”
He shifted Tab onto his hip and held out his other arm to Ella.
She went to him immediately, and he curled her into him and held her tightly. The feeling of warmth and closeness made everything hurt a little less.
“Samantha called me.” She leaned her head against his chest, feeling the rough texture of his wool coat against her cheek. It felt cold, as if winter had crept into the fibers and settled there. “I have to go into the city.”
“I saw your message. Don’t go. It will upset you and I don’t want that.”
Tab stroked her hair. “Are you sad, Mommy?”
“No. How could I be sad when I have you and Daddy?” She kissed her daughter. “Go fetch the painting we did for Daddy.” She waited for Tab to leave the room and then turned to Michael. “I have to go.”
“You don’t have to, Ella, but I know you will.” He hung up his coat, loosened his tie and undid his top button. He sounded tired. “If that’s what you want, then I’m coming with you.”
“What? No way!”
“I love you. I want to support you.”
Her heart was hammering. He couldn’t come with her. And she couldn’t tell him the reason.
“Someone has to look after Tab. I’m not taking her to a hospital.”
“We’ll get a sitter.”
“We’ve never left her with a sitter. It’s fine. I don’t need you to be there.”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “You don’t want me to be there. What I don’t understand is why.”
“I just—it will be difficult. With my mother, it always is.”
“So you say.” There was an edge to his voice that made her heart beat a little faster.
“Are you suggesting I’m exaggerating?”
“No, but as you’ve never let me meet her, it’s hard for me to understand what you mean. Why are you so afraid to introduce us? We’ve been together more than five years, El, and apart from Sam, she’s our only living family.”
And that would matter to him, of course, because Michael had lost both his parents when he was in his twenties. Ella picked up a photo of them laughing with Michael and felt a tug of envy. It was a perfect family scene. They’d been older parents and he’d been an unexpected but welcome surprise. Love shone out of that photo. “I know how long we’ve been together. And I’m grateful for every minute.” She put the photo back. “It’s also been five years since I saw my mother so it’s not as easy as you make it sound.”
“I know.” He folded her close. “And I know how much that upsets you. But I don’t need to be protected from the situation.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, guilt making her feel a little sick. Why hadn’t she just been honest right from the start? But she hadn’t, and now she didn’t know how to tell the truth. “The priority is to keep everything as normal as possible for Tab. I want her in a warm, secure environment with someone she loves. And I won’t be doing this alone. Sam will be there.”
“Where are you going, Mommy?” Tab was back by her side and Ella caught her hand.
“Mommy has to go on a trip to see Aunty Sam. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Is Aunty Sam in the hospital? Did she have a heart attack?”
Tab missed nothing.
“She’s not in the hospital. No one had a heart attack.”
“Then who is in the hospital? Someone is in the hospital. You said ‘which hospital.’”
“I—” Ella glanced at Michael and he shrugged. She knew he thought she should tell the truth, but Ella didn’t want to. How would she begin to explain her relationship with her mother to her daughter? She couldn’t even explain it to herself. “Someone we know—”
“What’s her name?”
“Gayle.” Ella swallowed. “Her name is Gayle.”
Michael gave a slow shake of his head and walked toward the fridge.
The answer wasn’t enough for Tab. “Is she your friend?”
“She—I—she’s someone—we know—”
The fridge door closed with a thump.
Ella didn’t look at Michael.
Tab wrinkled her nose, apparently enjoying this game of “detective.” “Is she Daddy’s friend, then?”
“No—he—” She wasn’t going there, she absolutely wasn’t. “Tab, I need to pack a bag.”
“Shall I make her a card? People who are sick like cards. I want to come. I want to see Aunty Sam.”
“You can’t, baby. Not this time. We’ll see her soon, I promise.”
“Christmas.”
“Definitely Christmas.”
“Twenty-four more sleeps. Santa and Aunty Sam.” Tab danced across the room, and Michael strolled back to Ella.
“I don’t want to stop you going if that’s what you want, honey, but I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it.”
Tab reappeared. “I want to go with Mommy and meet her friend.”
First her husband and now her daughter. How had her life ever gotten this complicated?
Michael kissed Ella and then dropped to his haunches so he was eye to eye with his daughter. “If you go with Mommy, who will watch movies and eat popcorn with me?”
Tab wavered. “Popcorn?”
“We could make it together. If you were here.”
“Which movie?”
Michael laughed and flashed Ella a smile. “Do you hear that? My little negotiator. Maybe she’s going to be a lawyer like her dad.”
“Don’t put that pressure on her! Maybe she’ll decide to work in an animal shelter, or join a ballet company, or even teach kindergarten.” She saw Michael’s eyebrows lift. “Sorry. Ignore me. Sensitive subject.”
“Of course Tab should do any job that makes her happy and fulfilled.” He gave Tab’s shoulder a squeeze and rose to his feet. “You and I are going to have a fun evening, Tabitha Melody Gray.”
“Can we play princesses before the movie?”
Michael’s expression didn’t falter. “Sure.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and looked at Tab. “I confess I don’t know how to play princesses. Am I the prince in this scenario? Do I rescue you from peril?”
Tab gave him a look. “No, I rescue you. You’re scared of the dragon because he’s a lot bigger than you expected, and I chop his head off to save you. There’s lots of blood. You faint.”
Michael raised his eyebrows. “I’m not coming out of this well, am I? And neither is the dragon. A violent end. I obviously have a lot to learn about this game. You’ll have to teach me. It’s not my area of expertise.”
Tab was forgiving. “You can’t be good at everything.”
“Are you saying I’m not good at everything?” Michael growled and then chased Tab around the house, hands outstretched to tickle her. Listening to Tab’s delighted squeals, Ella’s heart melted. She fell in love with Michael at least five times a day, and today was no exception.
She picked up her purse. “I’ll meet my sister at the hospital. I’m sorry you had to come home early.”
“I’m not. I get to see my beautiful wife and play dragons with my warrior princess.” Michael caught Tab again, tickling her as she rolled and wriggled.
Ella felt a pang. She wanted to stay home and spend an evening with them. She wanted to make popcorn with her daughter and sit snuggled together in their little unit of three where she felt loved and accepted.
“I need to get changed.”
