Page 43 of Miles & Mistletoe

“What’s wrong, Stacia?”

I lifted my eyes to find my mother staring at me, concern etching the lines of her forehead.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I smiled the phony smile I’d perfected over the years.

“I’m your mother. You think I don’t know when you’re giving me one of your flight attendant smiles?”

I lifted an eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she began as she moved from around the island, to come stand in front of me, placing her hand on her hip. She placed a hand under my chin, cupping it. “I see the sadness in your eyes. I know we haven’t been close for some time now, but you’re still my firstborn. It was you and me for a long time, Stacia. I heard it in your voice last night when you called telling me you were at the airport.”

I remained silent not knowing what to say to that.

My mother took my hands in hers.

“I know things between you and I could’ve been different. The way I handled meeting and marrying James. And then Raymond came along and it was like you got lost in all the shuffle. But you were still my baby girl. I’ve had some time to reflect on everything over the last few years while in therapy.”

“You’re in therapy?”

My mother nodded. “Yes. James and I started taking couples therapy about three years ago. And then I started going on my own. It’s helped improve our relationship all-around.”

“That’s great, Mom.” I had noticed she seemed happier and lighter, even.

“Yes. But now my baby girl is here on Christmas for the first time in a very long time and she’s looking like someone stole her puppy.”

I giggled. “What?”

She shrugged. “It’s a saying. Anyway, tell me what’s got you so down. Here …” My mother held up her finger, signaling for me to wait a moment. She circled the island, moving to the refrigerator. Pulling it open she grabbed a plate of chocolate chip cookies and eggnog. I watched as she placed the cookies into the microwave for a few seconds to warm them up and poured us two glasses of the eggnog. Memories of her doing this exact thing when I was a young child came flooding back.

“Okay, spill,” she stated, placing the cookies on the counter between us and pulling up a stool to sit on.

“Mom, we have to finish cooking.”

She waved me off. “I’ll be right here. That turkey will be fine. The mac and cheese, sweet potatoes, and everything else is already prepped and don’t have to go into the oven until later. And we can wash these greens while we eat cookies and you tell me what’s got you so forlorn on your favorite day of the year. At least, it used to be.”

I sighed and took the warmed up cookies she handed me. After taking a bite and swallowing, I finally opened my mouth and the truth spilled out. I told my mother everything, just like I used to do when I was a kid. Except, when I was a child my stories didn’t include hot, one-eyed CEOs who made your toes curl.

My mother was quiet for a long while after I stopped talking. Though I felt relieved having been able to share everything I’d been keeping to myself with someone else, I was anxious to know what she thought.

After a while she looked up at me. “So this Bryant, he was your boyfriend?”

I nodded. “For about six months. Until I found out he was married. But I never set out to destroy him or anything like that. I didn’t know what happened to him after I cut off all contact.”

My mother nodded before standing and taking the clean collard greens.

“But Ian thinks you intentionally set out to destroy Bryant, and now, him.”

I shrugged. “I think so. That’s what it sounded like. He was pretty scant on details.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Now I have half a mind to look up wherever he is and call him or show up on his doorstep just to curse him out. How could he think I would be capable of doing something like that? Jerk!” I growled, feeling pissed off and sad all at the same time.

“Hm.”

I looked up at my mother who was staring at me, standing at the stove.

“I just have one question.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Do you love him?”

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