Page 161 of Season of Gifts

He all but emptied the refrigerator onto the counter and began heating the oven.Several of the sides would fare better warmed.Christmas dinner had been in the dining room, but that had been a more formal affair, and this evening would be—

A casual family dinner.

His ankles rocked, tipping forward and back, his body as uncertain about the notion as his mind.Mother needed family around her for her recovery and beyond, and it simply could not be him.Not just any family would do—Jay and Alice had certain blood relatives unfit to care for a houseplant, let alone a medically fragile family member.No.Whether created or biological, the family caring for Mother must be dedicated and supportive.

Brooke had gotten taller.Of course she had; the last he’d spent significant time with her, she’d just finished kindergarten as he graduated from prep school and returned home for a final summer before his college studies.Now she was a grown woman with a teaching career and two daughters nearing kindergarten themselves.His mother and her health would never be Brooke’s top priority.

Lina had apparently couched the relocation as a Christmas surprise, but that did not guarantee that Brooke saw it as a positive change.Moving could be exceptionally stressful, and doing so on a short timeframe more so.He and Alice and Jay had been undertaking a move without two small children to account for.How hard had Lina worked to persuade her daughter to return to this house?

If Brooke changed her mind, what warning would he have to secure new arrangements for Mother?Would Mother inform him, or would she conceal any strain out of fear that he would charge in and take over once more?How devastated would she be if this plan collapsed?The possibilities—

The oven sent out a loud beep, announcing the end of its preheating cycle.And well it should; he’d been catastrophizing without reasoning through his fears.Opening the door, he slid in the first of the side dishes, leaving room for a second beside it.“Much appreciated, you old workhorse.I was letting my thoughts run away with me when I ought to be considering how to fill bellies.”

The kitchen door groaned, the wood dry in the winter air.How well Alice and Jay were looking after him.One would have stayed with Mother, certainly.He backed out from the oven and closed the door.The Brussels sprouts could handle rewarming; the heat would reinvigorate the fat in the bacon and the sweetness of the cranberries.“You’ve come just in time to save me from—”

Neither Alice nor Jay stood by the door.

“Lina.”

“Oh, I hope you don’t need saving from me.”She patted his shoulder as she passed him, surveying the counter before confidently sliding open a drawer and pulling out several serving spoons.“But I know how your thoughts get away from you—”

Lina had known him years before he’d learned to school his expressions and conceal his thoughts from Father.Like Mother, she could read him through the mask.

“—and we haven’t had a chance to discuss this scheme of your mother’s, you and I.So.”She handed him the dish of spiced sweet potatoes, and he clutched it awkwardly to his chest, the refrigerator’s chill sinking through his light sweater.“Mia will love the texture of these; she’s in a soft foods phase.Shall we make dinner while we reassure each other that this solves complications for all involved?”

The potatoes settled nicely beside the Brussels sprouts.The oven door closed with a gentle bump.“I’ve been reading some of Father’s journals today.”

Those weren’t the words he’d prepared.He’d had a quite complimentary sentence about Lina’s many years with Mother and the strength of their bond.

“She decided to share them with you, then?”Lina grunted approval, her moon-silver braid bobbing with her nod.“I haven’t read them myself—your father was a private man, and I don’t think he would’ve appreciated me nosing about in his business—but I expect they might answer questions for you that I never could.”

“It’s clear that he relied heavily upon your care and support for Mother.”But what complications would returning solve for Lina and her daughter?He shuffled dishes, a delaying tactic that produced no polite lines of inquiry for the question urgently blaring above all others, louder than the oven timer in his mind.He’d skipped whole years of Father’s life in his reading.If Father and Lina had—if Brooke was his half-sister—Mother would know, surely?The story of Lina’s summer fling with a friend of a friend might be entirely fiction.“The three of you must have grown close over the years.All that time with Robert and me away at school.”

Linahmmed noncommittally, a stack of plates curled in one arm.“Should we eat in the kitchen?I see you’ve the leaf in the table and plenty of seats.”

“I thought so, if you approve.”Thick slices of goose with gravy went into the oven to warm.“Robert and his family left after breakfast this morning, and we’ve not set the kitchen to rights yet.”Though the leaf might remain now that Mother wouldn’t be living alone.The beverage selections for children, though—that hadn’t made the shopping list this afternoon.He perused the refrigerator once more.“Do the girls take milk or juice with dinner?I expect you’d prefer I not offer them coffee, tea, or wine.”

“The uncaffeinated fruit teas you tried to serve your mother would be fine with a bit of ice and sweetening.”Chuckling, Lina rested a hand on his back, taking the sting from her tease.She had a sturdier build than Mother, broad shoulders that came to his biceps.

He allowed the refrigerator door to close, sealing away the cooled air, as she nudged him toward the table.The plates rested in the center, undistributed.Lina glanced at them as she sat.“Helen says your husband enjoys setting the table, so I thought I might get the process started but not usurp any roles.”

Wry warmth spread across his face.She’d known him all thirty-nine and three-quarters years of his life; of course she would have sensed the sticking points.“This is where you tell me that you caring for my mother does not signify in any way a failure or abdication of my responsibilities as her son.”

“Actually, this is where I reassure you that Brooke is not your sister.”

He dropped harder than intended into the seat beside her.“Lina, I would never pry.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t.But you’re wondering; don’t try to tell me you aren’t.”Lina folded her hands in front of her, one eyebrow raised as if she were about to inquire whether he had actually folded the laundry she’d left for him or merely stuffed it into his dresser.“I would be genuinely surprised if your father’s journals suggested anything of the sort.I don’t believe that in the length of his entire life he grew close to anyone but your mother, not even you boys.I’m not entirely certain he knew how.”

“That is the impression I carry as well.”He spoke in a quiet tone more suited for the library than the kitchen table.The soft yellow glow from the light fell in an arc around them.Memory tossed a floppy lavender cat at his feet.A cherub-cheeked toddler stretched her hands over the edge of a playpen for a taste of his initial attempt at raspberry chocolate eclairs under her mother’s guidance.“I hadn’t thought of the possibility until today.I know how devoted you are to Mother, but I’ve no sense of what might draw Brooke back to this house.You retired to be a grandmother—”

Lina raised a single index finger.Her hickory-brown gaze narrowed.“I retired because Brooke’s fiancé decided to abandon her with a six-month-old baby and a second on the way because he wasn’t ready for that responsibility.”She ground her teeth in a low growl.“I love my daughter, and I love my grandbabies, but your mother and I still talk on the phone nearly every night, Henry.This”—she swung one hand up in a semicircle—“was never just a job for me.We have, pardon my language, been through some shit together.”

He ordered his body to stillness, to watchfulness.If he breathed too deeply, he might disrupt her truth-telling.

“After everything she’d been through, I know Helen would have preferred to never see the inside of that hospital again.”Lips pressed tight, Lina shook her head.She blinked rapidly.“But she was right by my side, coaching me and holding my hand, when Brooke was born.”

“I didn’t realize.”He’d been off at school, with Mother relaying the news of a healthy baby girl over the phone.He’d rapidly changed the subject lest melancholy overtake her.“That must have been a complicated time for you both.”

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