Page 234 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Is it?” she asks, her eyes sincere.

“Honestly? It’s gonna take some time. You hurt me, Amanda. Especially taking away Ben. But I think we can work through it. We might never be close, but I think we can be civil. For Ben’s sake.”

Her eyes turn glassy. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Me too.” Then I get in my truck and give her a wave as I pull out of her driveway. As I make the drive back to Asheville, I can’t help thinking she’s right. Things did work out for me. Maryand I would never have met if Amanda hadn’t disowned me, but it took a lot of pain to get to this place.

The thought of spending Christmas with Mary and Aidan fills my heart with equal amounts of joy and peace. I’m ready to leave the pain of my past behind and look toward my bright future. One that includes the three people I love most in the world.

CHAPTER THIRTY

MARY

“Mom, you didn’t need to say they’re all from Santa,” Aidan says, looking at the tags on the gifts beneath the tree and shuffling his feet in anticipation. He groans and shakes a red-wrapped gift. “You even said this one for Jace is from Santa. We know that’s a lie, right, Jace?”

Eyes twinkling, Jace grins at him. “My mom did it too, buddy, right up until I was a teenager. It’s something moms do because it’s fun to believe the stories.”

Aidan mulls this over. “I won’t be a teenager for another six years, six months, and four days. That’s a really long time. You don’t have to do it for that long, Mom. Iknowthey’re from you.”

Still, he doesn’t seem upset by the ruse. In fact, I suspect part of him is pleased that he gets to keep a piece of what was in the midst of so much change.

Yesterday wasn’t what you’d call easy.

I made Aidan his favorite snack—which is currently a slice of Mrs. Rosa’s gingerbread, cut exactly half an inch thick (someday I’ll get him to like carrot sticks, but even though he’s been eating better over the last couple of weeks, he’s still picky)—and sat him down at the kitchen table to talk about Glenn. I didn’t tell him that Jace and I sent his father away by threatening to releasethe file Nicole had prepared for me. (Oh God, I’m going to be disbarred, aren’t I?) Nor did I tell him that Glenn turned white in the face and then, on the way out, blamed me for never satisfying him in the bedroom. I thought Jace was going to go after him then, despite knowing about the wholeGlenn trying to set us upploy, but I tugged him back, and then Dottie emerged from the hallway to tell us Aidan was asleep. The sight of her made Glenn lose even more color. “Oh, bother,” she said, smoothing her shock of bright hair. “The effect was immediate, which was very promising, but I was hoping it would knock him out for longer. Would you drink another cup, young man? I’ll put more valerian in it this time.” He ran out then, muttering something about crazy people and poisoned tea.

No, a son didn’t need to know those things about his father. So instead, I sat Aidan down and said, as firmly as I could, that we wouldn’t be seeing Glenn anymore because our lives had taken different paths—his was in Northern Virginia and ours was here in Asheville, with Maisie and Molly and Dottie. It didn’t mean there was anything wrong with us—it only meanthewas wrong for us. Aidan could still see his grandparents if he wanted, as much as he wanted, but we were done with Glenn.

I meant that, but even so, I’m going to have a long conversation with Ruth in the near future.

The whole time I talked, my voice wavering, Aidan played with his fidget spinner or zipper, his movements tight and repetitive, intensifying when he asked me what would happen if I ever decidedmylife needed to go down a different path—something that made me choke back sobs as I assured him I would never, ever leave him. That our paths were braided together and always would be, because I would accept nothing less.

He didn’t break down, though. He didn’t call me a liar or tell me his father had come here to be with us. He didn’t tell me he wanted to see Glenn.

At the end, he just asked, in a small voice, “What about Jace?”

“What about him, honey?”

“You said our home was with Aunt Maisie and Aunt Molly and Dottie, but you didn’t say anything about Jace.” He paused, his face scrunching up. “Dottie told me that you two are in romantic love, like Maisie and Jack and Molly and Cal. She said she read it in your auras, but I don’t think auras are a real thing, Mom. I think they’re pretend, like Santa Claus and ankylosauruses and brontosauruses living in the same timeline.”

I could have been pissed, but then again, Dottie had helped us the previous night, even if her methods were questionable. Besides, part of me thought it best for him to know the truth. There’d been too many lies, honorably intended or not, and Aidan was someone who, at his core, valued things that were straightforward.

“Yes, Aidan, I love Jace too, and I’m hoping he can be a friend to both of us. Is that okay?”

He shot me a serious look before glancing off to the side, the zipper of his sweatshirt going up and down, up and down, and up—my nerves pulling taut with it. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea, Mom. You were friends with Dad, and that didn’t work out so well. I don’t want Jace to leave, and I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Aidan,” I said through another surge of emotion, “I will never, ever leave you willingly, and I know the same is true of Jace, no matter what happens between him and me. But I hope the three of us can be friends together. That’s what I want more than anything. Your dad and me…we haven’t been friends for along time. I think maybe he’s not the kind of person who likes to have friends.”

He was quiet for a long time, long enough that I wondered whether his mind had moved on to something else or if he’d decided he was done with our talk. But then he said, “I think that’d be okay. I like it here, Mom. I like it here better than anywhere in the world. Our gray house wasn’t a nice place.”

His words surprised me for a moment, because that house was truthfully much nicer than this one. His room was twice as big, the lighting was better, and a tree in the backyard had a limb that resembled an ankylosaurus’s tail. But he’s not really talking about the house. He might not realize it, but he’s talking about the stifling atmosphere. About the way it always felt as if the other shoe was about to drop.

Aidan spent a lot of time in his cool-down zone after that, but he emerged later in the afternoon and asked me to help him wrap his presents. And when Jace came back last night, he said, “You’re home!” and it felt like something inside of me clicked. Jace is a part of our lives, and based on what he said last night, it sounds like Ben will be too.

Reconnecting with his nephew unleashed a new peace inside Jace, something I understand well as I sit around the Christmas tree with him and Aidan, Jace wearing a red Christmas sweater Mrs. Rosa bought him at a festival and Aidan still in his dinosaur pajamas. I’m in a festive outfit because, despite all the changes I’ve made, I couldn’t bear to come out in my pajamas.

I feel content. I feel…merry. Molly would say that’s a terrible dad joke, but Idofeel merry in a way I haven’t experienced since I was a kid, when Maisie and Molly and I would wake our parents at six in the morning because we were too eager to open presents to wait.

The plans for Christmas dinner have changed, something that would have agitated me a couple of months ago—okay, itstill agitates me a little, as it starts in a matter of hours, for goodness’ sake!—and apparently Cal and his father will now be hosting it at an address they’re going to send out a half hour before the meal. (Something tells me Nicole was their inspiration.) I suspect Maisie, who was supposed to host, was recruited by Cal in hissurprise Mollyplan, although she hasn’t given anything away.

---