My Kind Of Christmas Part 38

"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 s.p.a.ce. 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 a.s.signed 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, G.o.d, this isn't happening to me."

"What?" she asked.

"My mother."

"No way!"

"Way," he said tiredly.

She took a breath. "Talk about awkward."

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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.ses, 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 s.e.x!' What a crock."

"I did study!"

"You were so d.a.m.n 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 circ.u.mstances. 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 G.o.d," 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 s.p.a.cious 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. "h.e.l.lo."

"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."