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“It is a wonderful thing.”
And she wasn’t going to lose it. She’d do whatever it took.
Her relationship with her own children had been about preparing them for the world.
What was her role with a granddaughter?
She didn’t have one, which was perhaps why she’d found their brief time together that morning so lighthearted and refreshing. She’d been able to enjoy the moment without that soul crushing sense of responsibility.
Focused on scooping up snow with one very excited little girl, she’d briefly forgotten all her problems. That exhausting tension had eased. Her brain had cleared. Life had seemed simple.
And then Ella had arrived, anxious at first because she hadn’t trusted her mother with her child.
She wasn’t trusted with her own grandchild.
The pain of it was shocking. Worse than the bang on the head.
Maybe she hadn’t done everything right, but did they really think she was that bad a mother? Or maybe it was part of life that everyone chose to do things differently from their parents.
She thought of Ella, crouched down eye level with her daughter, listening. Attentive.
Had she given her daughters that much time and attention?
Probably not, because she’d been working to build a safe financial future for them all.
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
Didn’t she always urge people to own their actions?
Mary was still nursing the coffeepot. “I’m longing for one of my two to give me grandchildren, but these days it isn’t the done thing to ask, is it? I daren’t raise the subject.
I did it once and I was soundly scolded by both my daughter and my son. Do you have to watch what you say with your girls?”
Gayle gave a hysterical laugh. Every conversation with them was like walking over broken glass. If you trod too heavily, you’d be lacerated. “I certainly do.” She felt an unusual sense of kinship. “Why don’t you sit down, Mary? Join me.”
“I shouldn’t.” Mary paused. “Brodie probably wouldn’t approve.”
“He’s not here, and we are. Also, our children can’t have everything their own way, however old they are. Please.” Gayle waved a hand toward the door. “I have no idea where my daughter has gone, and I don’t want to eat breakfast alone. If anyone complains, you can blame me.”
Everyone else seemed to blame her for everything, so more blame would barely register.
The thought annoyed her.
Since when had she been so self-pitying? That wasn’t the way she operated. She looked at the facts and did what she could. It was like opening the fridge and making a meal based on the ingredients available.
“I think she was talking to my daughter. I hope Kirstie doesn’t say something she shouldn’t. Was she rude to you?”
“Rude?” How honest should she be? “Not rude at all. She looked—”
“Miserable?”
“Serious. As if she has a lot on her mind.”
“She does, but I’m worried she’s going to scare away the guests. I think Brodie is afraid of that, too. She’s struggling with this new direction for our family. All she wants is to be outdoors with the reindeer. The fact that she isn’t is my fault, although it’s poor Brodie that she’s blaming.”
“Why is it your fault?” Gayle hoped Ella wouldn’t join them in the next few minutes. Talking with Mary had eased the tension that had been with her for the past month. “Pour yourself a cup of that delicious coffee. Join me. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
Mary poured one and topped up Gayle’s cup. Then she sat down in the chair next to Gayle. She was poised on the edge, as if she wasn’t quite committed to staying. “I shouldn’t be talking to you like this.”
