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I dared not contradict her in case we were being watched. I didn’t put it past Dave to have us followed. The man had something up his sleeve, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure he didn’t get to play that card. Besides, Patrick seemed touched by the gesture. He gave Mom a big ol’ bear hug, and she burst into tears.
“You two”—Mom looked between Patrick and me—“are going to make a beautiful couple.”
I wasn’t sure how she thought that, considering I’d told her this engagement thing was fake. She was behaving as if we truly were getting married, which I supposed we were all doing. But I could tell she believed this was the real deal. Perhaps it would be, but she needed to slow down a bit. I don’t care what Google said.
Mom patted Patrick’s chest. “My, my, my. Oh, Izzy, you found yourself at least a nine point five here.”
I audibly sighed. “Mom. Please, can we go?”
“Elizabeth ...Mom,” Patrick said playfully, “I think we should round up and make it an even ten.” He shouldn’t have encouraged her, but I had to admit it was awfully adorable.
Mom blushed, which was hard to see for how cold it was, but I noticed the extra flush of red tint in her cheeks. “Oh, okay. You are a ten.” She swatted his chest.
“Now that we have that settled, can we get in the car?” My teeth were starting to chatter.
“I think Izzy is getting a little jealous of us.” Mom laughed.
Yes, that was it—I was jealous. Maybe jealous of people with mothers who were of sound mind.
“I would never give Isabelle any reason to be jealous.” Patrick offered me the warmest of smiles.
“Oh.” Mom sniffed and waved her hand in front of her face, trying to stave off tears. “I’m all verklempt. Izzy, this one is a keeper.” It was the sanest thing she had said since her arrival and ...
“I agree.”
BING CROSBY’S “WHITE CHRISTMAS” PLAYEDquietly in the background to the crackle of the fire burning low in the fireplace, laughter punctuating the air.
“You have to hand it to Mom: she may be crazy, but she’s a rock star grandma,” Charlotte spoke in hushed tones while we made hot chocolate for everyone. She wasn’t wrong.
I looked at the scene going on in the living room. Mom had Jameson, Rory, Bridgette, Patrick, Dad, and even the dog, Fiona, gathered around the coffee table making homemade ornaments for Patrick’s family tree. Currently they were cutting out felt shapes using Christmas cookie cutters. We’d already made a dozen star ornaments using white-and-gold straws. The woman was crafty. And from the sounds of it, everyone found her hilarious. She was currently telling a story about when I was little and instead of singing “God and sinners reconciled” in “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” I would say, “God and sinners rest in style.”
Laughter ensued.
“She was always our stylish girl—well, you know, except for the recent grocery shopping trip in her flannel.”
Patrick caught my eye and winked. He’d been such a good sport all day. Mom had insisted on riding in the front seat with him on the way back to the inn. There she told him my life story, even covering how easy I was to potty train and how when I was three, I would tell complete strangers I didn’t like them looking at me. For the record, I still didn’t enjoy people staring at me, especially my upper lip. She then proceeded to ask him if a Brazilian butt lift was for her. The fact that he was still hanging around was a miracle.
I gave him a knowing smile. Who knew how that one grocery shopping trip would change my life? Well, I supposed George did. George, who was due here any moment. We didn’t like him driving in the dark, but he had insisted on coming to say hello to our parents, whom he adored, and vice versa. And I think he wanted to come check on his handiwork.
I turned and started putting dollops of homemade whipped cream into the steaming mugs of hot chocolate Charlotte had just poured. “She is a good grandma,” I agreed. I really did love how wonderful she was being with Rory and Bridgette. She’d already asked them for their Christmas wish lists, and she’d brought them and Jameson sweatshirts from the Sunshine State. They were all wearing them now because Mom needed a picture of them in the matching sweatshirts to post on Instagram, once she was out of prison.
Rory, of course, was more than happy to give her his list. I wouldn’t be surprised if that new PlayStation ended up under the tree.
Dad, for his part, just smiled at the scene like this was the best day of his life. Family meant everything to him. And oddly, there was nothing fake about this moment. I could see this being the start of a family tradition.Myfamily’s tradition.
Charlotte unceremoniously took the spoon out of my hand. “I got this. Go back out there. Someone’s missing you.” She pointed at Patrick, who sat on the floor, seemingly enjoying himself, though he did have his sights on me.
It was still so strange to have asomeoneagain. Especially the someone I’d thought might have been just a dream.
“Go.” She nudged me with her hip when I didn’t move right away.
“You’ve gotten so bossy.” I grinned before I turned and tiptoed back into the living area, aglow with the light of love and the large Christmas tree Jameson had picked out at the tree farm. I loved the smell of pine, but not quite as much as Patrick’s cedar-and-cinnamon scent.
I went to sit next to Patrick on the shaggy white area rug; instead, he reached for me and pulled me onto his lap. It made me feel young and wanted, although a little uncomfortable, given his children were present. They didn’t seem to mind, as they kept on cutting felt and chatting with my parents.
Patrick wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. “This is much better.”
I liked the arrangement too.
