“I think we should ask her if she would give one to you,” Jason said. “Would you like to video call her at our next session?We can show her how much you’ve learned already, and ask if she’ll give you a name-sign. Does that sound good?”
Ollie nodded. Then nodded again, harder.
“Okay. I’ll ask her tonight. And whatever she decides, please remember that you’ve already got a name. A great name your mom and dad gave you. Mary’s just going to give you one for your hands.”
Ollie smiled, then glanced at his mother. He pressed his fingertips to his lips and brought his hand out toward her. Thank you.
Sarah’s eyes filled. She brought her own hand up, palm open, and swept it gently inward toward her chest. You’re welcome.
7
MAUVE
Mauve pressed the last of her water bottle to her forehead as the final notes of “Last Christmas” faded from the speakers. Her hair was stuck to the back of her neck, and she was breathing hard, thanks to her best friend’s vigorous adult dance class. Mauve was here twice a week for the exercise and, although she lacked talent, she found dancing to be one of the most joyful things she did in her life. In addition to dancing, she attended Reese’s Pilates class three days a week. Taking class had become a nice routine and a great way to stay in shape. It also gave her an excuse to have coffee with Reese twice a week. They always went for coffee at Bean Counters after dance class. Mauve cherished the time with her busy friend. She missed when they were both single with plenty of empty hours on their hands. Now Reese was the mother to two teenage boys, a wife, and a business owner. There wasn’t a lot of time left after that.
Twelve other women were scattered around the studio in various states of sweatiness, laughing and gabbing as they gathered their things.
Mauve took a generous swig of water before pulling her sweatshirt over her damp sports bra. Reese was still up at thefront talking with a few of her students, so Mauve hung back to wait for her friend.
Reese looked odd this morning. Almost wrung out, which was impossible because she took impeccable care of herself. But she had a waxy pallor under her foundation and a slight sheen on her temples that alarmed her. Reese never sweated. She was too fit.
“You okay?” Mauve asked when Reese joined her by the door, tote bag in hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. Must be the time of year. It’s so dark in the mornings.”
“And the late afternoon,” Mauve said.
“You have time for coffee?”
“For sure,” Mauve said. “And maybe a blueberry muffin too.”
Reese often teased her about her sweet tooth and was endlessly giving her a hard time about her muffin habit. Fortunately, Mauve was tall and naturally slender, so she could get away with it. And as long as that was the case, she was going to keep eating muffins.
Tara was behind the counter when they arrived at Bean Counters. She gave them a friendly wave and told them she’d be right there. The place was always busy this time of morning, but they found a small table by the window.
When Tara came by, they ordered lattes and a muffin for Mauve. Reese ordered scrambled eggs and fruit. While they waited, they chatted about events coming up, including the tree lighting and Max’s ugly sweater contest.
“And you’ll join us for Christmas morning, right?” Reese asked. “And stay the day? We can maybe try a few new recipes. The boys keep talking about a Christmas goose, which I have no intention of cooking. But maybe roast beef?”
“I thought you guys might go to Grace’s,” Mauve said. She’d already reconciled herself to it. Everything would be different now that Reese was a Hayes.
“No, we’ll be there for Christmas Eve. I wanted Christmas Day just for us. It’ll be our first official Christmas as a family and I want you there.”
“Where will Jason be?”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “He’ll be with us. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Tara came by with their lattes and Mauve’s muffin. “Eggs will be up in a few.”
They thanked her and waited until she was out of earshot before continuing their talk.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Reese asked gently. “About him? I’m assuming that’s what’s giving you the morose eyes?”
Mauve wrapped her hands around her latte. “There’s not much to say, really. I’m crazy about him, and he’s leaving after the holidays. And I don’t want him to. I told myself the week in L.A. was just a lark, you know. I’d get to hang out on set and see how the whole thing worked. See him doing his thing. Enjoy a nice hotel room. But it was that and so much more. He made such an effort to show me a good time. We were out to dinner every night. Went to the beach one afternoon for a picnic. It was the best week of my life.”
“That’s saying a lot.”
