Page 2 of Snowed In with the Bosses

Yeah, I could see her point.

Bridget refilled our teacups. I’d finished mine without realizing and thanked her with a nod and a tight smile.

“I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.” She patted Mom’s shoulder before making her way down the short hallway to Mom’s room, where she’d set up the medical equipment and anything else Mom might need through the night.

“You can get rid of that damned portable toilet,” Mom shouted over her shoulder. “I’d rather shit myself.”

Bridget’s laughter trickled back into the room.

Mom huffed. “Treat me like an invalid.” She pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders.

I didn’t bother hiding my laughter. “It’s a wonder Bridget puts up with you.”

“Bridget loves me.” She pushed the cookies across the table. “And so do you or you would quit trying to get me to live with you. I appreciate the offer, Clara.” Her eyes reddened. “You have no idea how much I appreciate it, and that you come see me when you can.”

“I wish I could come by more often.” It was the only hiccup to me moving downtown. I’d rather be closer to Mom, but I’d bought my house before her diagnosis and her medical bills drained us both. I had nothing left in the bank for another move.

Mom patted my hand, her fingers icy and stiff, before she pulled back into the blanket. “I’m okay here. Leaving this place would kill me.”

“Don’t say that.” I lurched to my feet. “Don’t talk about dying.”

I could joke about a lot of things. My dry humor helped me through a lot of tough shit, but hearing her mention death rattled me to my bones.

“Sit down.” The heat kicked on, and she lowered the blanket down around her shoulder while picking up her teacup. Mom tapped a fingernail onto the table and eyed me over her teacup. Once my butt hit the chair, she smiled. “Do you remember the winter your father took you ice skating?”

I hid my wince. That was one memory I knew to be true. “I sucked.”

She nodded, but her earnest expression kept the anger at bay. “You fell down so many times I was sure your teachers would come after us for child abuse. But you loved it. Every time you fell down, he’d scoop you into his arms and spin you around.”

I could almost feel the wind in my hair, the taste of ice on my tongue. I remembered Dad’s smile more than anything. His features had blurred over the years until I’d resorted to looking at his picture to spark my memory. “He told me I had to find my ice legs. I thought he meant I’d turn into a princess or something.” I patted my chest. “This figure was not meant to be princess material.”

“No, my darling.” Mom winked. “You’re more queen material.”

“Damn, you’re quick today.” I snapped my fingers and did a little hip sashay. “Where’d all this come from?”

“I was flipping through some old photo albums this morning.”

Ah, that explained the mix of melancholy and snark that made Mom famous. I’d inherited her snark, thank God. “I’m glad you have all your pictures. The offer to digitize them still stands.” I’d offered last Christmas, even promised to get her one of those fancy frames.

“I like them the way they are.” She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “You can’t feel the nostalgia on a screen.”

True. To each their own. “Okay. I have a memory. I think it is, anyway. Did Dad ever take me to a hockey game?”

Mom’s smile stretched wide. She threw her head back and laughed with such gusto I worried she’d snap in half. “Just once. He swore he’d never take you again.”

“So I really did stand up on the bleachers and shout at the players that they needed to be nicer to each other?” I returned the lid to the tin of cookies and slid it to the center of the table where Mom could reach them later. “I’d hoped that was a dream memory.”

“You did more than that.” You found a whistle and blew it so many times the referees threatened to have you both kicked out.” Mom wiped tears from her eyes, chuckling so hard hershoulders shook and dislodged the blanket. “You’re something else. Always have been. It’s why I know you’ll be okay out there.”

My heart pinched.

Mom’s laughter cut off, and she yawned. “Mercy, I’m exhausted.”

I helped her to her feet and walked her down the hall. She almost always needed a nap after a visit.

Bridget met me at the bedroom door and between the two of us, we helped Mom into bed and covered her with a thick layer of blankets.

“I’ll come back soon.” I kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

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