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She shrugged as if he could see her. “It would be nice to have you actually here with me, instead of just whispering like a ghost through my mind.”
“I’ll be there. What can I bring?”
“Yourself. And my present. You did get me a present, didn’t you?” She had absolutely no doubt that he had, or she wouldn’t have asked. She’d got him something as well.
“You’ll just have to wait and see. What time should I arrive, sweet Vidalia?”
“Seven, if you can stand to wait for your dinner that long.”
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
“Shush now. You just show up at seven, all right?”
“I will. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait that long, but–”
“It’s only eleven hours. That’s not so much more waiting, not after all these years. Besides, I have to get ready.” She hung up the phone before her suddenly tremulous vocal chords gave her away. Nervous as a prom date.
She went to her bedroom after that, opened her closets and stared in almost blindly. She even moved hangers around, and took a few things out, holding them in front of her and turning to face the mirror attached to her antique dresser.
And then she looked a little harder and moved a little closer, tipping her head to one side and seeing the lines at the corners of her eyes in a way she’d never seen them before. They’d been there. It wasn’t that she was unaware of them. If she looked closely, she could see the beginnings of lines across her forehead, too. Not deep, barely there, even. More like coming attractions. Her lashes and brows weren’t as lush and abundant as they had once been. Her lips, not as full. And she didn’t need to take off her clothes to remind her that her breasts were no longer as perky as they had been in her youth. Her waist, not as tiny, her tummy, not as flat. Her hips were wider, curving out from her waist.
“Mom? You up here?”
She grunted a reply and leaned nearer the mirror.
“Mom?” Maya was at the bedroom door, coming inside, taking in the clothes on the bed, and her mother’s close self-scrutiny, no doubt. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“I’m aging,” Vidalia said.
“You sound surprised.”
Tearing her gaze from the mirror, she managed to turn and face her firstborn. “I guess I shouldn’t be. I just haven’t been paying that much attention.”
“Mom, you’re fif–”
“I know how old I am. I just...didn’t know I looked it.” The mirror pulled her back until Maya stood beside her, leaning just as close, looking just as intently at their reflections.
“You don’t look your age. You look my age. I have more crow’s feet than you do.”
“Pssh,” Vidalia replied.
“I don’t think it’s that you never noticed before. I think it’s that you never cared before. What’s going on, Mom? Is it Bobby Joe?”
Vidalia had never been much for vanity. What the heck was getting into her? Sighing, she turned from the mirror and looked at her daughter. “Yes, it’s Bobby Joe. I um....” She looked at the floor. “I’m in love with him.”
Maya gasped. It was a soft sound, a surprised one, and Vidalia couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She just kept looking down. “I don’t think I realized it myself until just now, but the truth is, I’ve been in love with him for as long as I’ve known him. But things were....well, you know. Impossible then.”
“I had no idea,” Maya whispered.
“I’m going to tell him so. Tonight. I thought we could have Christmas Eve together, just the two of us, but–” She waved a hand, sort of indicating the clothes on the bed and the danged mirror all in one gesture.
“Oh, Mama. Oh, come here.”
Vidalia looked up with a frown, glimpsing tears on her daughter’s cheeks just before she found herself enveloped in a hug. “Well, you don’t need to be so emotional about it, daughter. It’s just–”
“I’ve wished this for you a thousand times,” Maya told her. “Maybe a million. We all have.” Sniffling, she stood back, hands on her mother’s shoulders, wet eyes meeting hers. “You just relax. I’m gonna call Edie and Kara and–”
“No. No, wait, this isn’t big announcement time or family meeting time, it’s just–”
