Page 27 of Daigo

Her hair was cut and styled in a chic and elegant coif at the nape of her neck. Diamonds winked at her lobes and around her neck. She had brought gifts for both her son and his wife, as well as a bottle of Cabernet and one of his special scotch.

She knew what it looked like, but at this point, she did not care. She wanted back in with her son. He was all she had, and she had no intention of losing him.

She was about to punch in the code but decided against it. Besides, after the last time, he might have changed it.

She pressed the buzzer instead.

Daigo had seen her on the monitor and noticed the uncertain expression on her face. His wife was right, as usual, he thought with a mental shake of his head as he unlocked the door.

"Mother." He relieved her of the packages.

"Darling." She touched his arm briefly, tentatively, as if expecting to be shunned.

"You look lovely. Is that a new outfit?" He decided to bury the hatchet.

He was rewarded for his effort by her beaming smile.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"Come on in. Shelby-Anne and Tammy... you remember her friend, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." Shedding her gloves and jacket, Yuna managed to hide her displeasure and distress. She had thought it would be only them.

Taking her jacket and gloves, he ushered her into the living room and went to put away the bottles before joining them.

"Yuna, how lovely you look." With no sign of anger or resentment due to the last encounter, Shelby greeted her in a swirl of green-and-gold chiffon. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders in curls and waves, and she looked radiant. "You remember Tammy, right?"

"Yes." Stunned when Shelby took her hands and drew her in for a kiss on both cheeks, Yuna stood rigid.

Lifting her head, she saw her son watching her closely. Making an effort, she returned the hug awkwardly.

"I-I brought gifts," she stuttered when she was released.

"Oh, lovely!" Shelby, completely aware of the woman's discomfort, patted her hand. "You're just in time. We have a lovely spread."

Yuna watched as her son walked over to take his wife's hand, as if in complete unity and protection.

Dinner was not the unpleasant affair she had been dreading, and Yuna found herself relaxing. The table was festive with rustic pine cones and berries arranged artistically in a translucent glass bowl. There were also glittering ornaments in a glass bowl, a scented citrus-and-spice arrangement, and festive holiday cookies on display on the curved side table. The air smelled of the delicious baked ham, fried chicken, and thin slices of turkey. A large bowl of eggnog was in the center of the table. The conversation was carried out by the two younger women. Seated at her son's right, Yuna took the opportunity to reach out.

Chapter 8

There was laughter around the dinner table, something she never would have allowed in her house, something that had never been tolerated by her husband. It felt strange to be watching the cheer and mirth. The air was heavy with pine cones that were scattered around the elegant, yet cozy dining room. A fire blazed inside the hearth, flames snapping upward. Flowers were everywhere: hibiscus and geraniums, scattered with roses and iris.

The two women were recounting their lean years while living from hand to mouth. To Yuna, this was certainly not dinner conversation. A glance at her son found him smiling indulgently at his wife. Love shone from his face.

He was leaning back in the chair, one arm curved around the back of hers, fingers stroking her shoulder and arm. He seemed to love touching her. And he wasn't wearing a jacket, just a thick electric-blue sweater over navy blue slacks. And he looked happy.

"I know you weren't the one who invited me," Yuna murmured as she sipped her wine. "But I'm happy to be here, nonetheless."

He glanced at her. He was still upset, but it was mellowing. His wife had seen to that.

"If I can forgive her, then so can you," she had told him firmly.

"My wife's heart is as big as Texas," he murmured, a smile playing around his lips.

Removing his hand from the back of her chair, he gestured to her almost-empty glass.

"More wine?"