Page 162 of Season of Gifts

“We had our miscommunications—”

The kitchen door inched open, and Brooke slid into the gap.“Talking about me?”

“After a fashion, yes.”He might as well be candid.The more honesty at the outset, the better prepared they would all be for however this proposal unfolded.“Should we anticipate an influx of hungry diners any moment?”

“Naw, you’ve got time yet.Aunt—” Brooke fumbled around the door and caught her heel as it closed.“I mean, your mom introduced the girls to the library, and they are absolutely enthralled.She’s reading them books about rabbits.”Her smile, cast toward the ceiling, might have been a touch wistful.“Your husband’s good with kids—he even got Riley to tell him her favorite animal, and she’s my shy babygirl.”Glancing from her mother to him, she blew out a hard breath.“Right, so, look, we all know I went through a whole phase about being the housekeeper’s kid in middle school—”

If byallshe meant herself and her mother.He’d been enmeshed in his own life in Boston, fine-tuning his skills at the club, gaining a reputation for his private commissions, utterly out of sync with the day-to-day happenings at his childhood home.The complexities they’d experienced had thoroughly passed him by.

“—and bolted hard when I got into college, and maybe you’re gonna say that was only eight years ago and how can you know that I’m not going to be an ass to your mom.”She paced as she spoke, walking the lines of the kitchen tile.“Or you’re not cool with single moms, and you think this is a money grab—which it’s not, we do fine on my salary, and it’ll grow after I get my next certification—” Ducking her head, she huffed against her faded college sweatshirt.“Or you’re worried the girls will be too noisy, okay, sure, fine, they’re three and four, and three- and four-year-olds are noisy sometimes.Or—”

“May I ask a question?”He hesitated to halt the fascinating parade of her concerns, but that she’d voiced them at all boded well for transparency around expectations in this arrangement.

“Fire away.”Dark curls bounced as Brooke pulled out the chair on the far side of her mother and sat.The curly hair must have come from her father; Lina’s hair was pin-straight except for the waves when she took down her braid.“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?The interview?”

A softtchflew from Lina’s mouth.Standing, she cupped the back of Brooke’s head and pressed a kiss into her curls.“I think you’ll quickly discover Henry isn’t his father, honey.”Her gaze found Henry, the quirk of her mouth proclaiming an amused apology.“What were we saying about miscommunications?You two chat.I’m going to get the rest of dinner in motion.”

He was the host; the responsibility was his.Mother was inviting Lina as her friend and companion, not as an employee.“Lina, please don’t feel that you must—”

“I don’t.”She studied the cupboards, ran her hand along the edge of the counter, and pulled a potholder from a drawer.“Everything in this kitchen is where I left it.Your mother hasn’t changed a thing.Warming a few dishes here isn’t a hardship, Henry.”

“Thank you, Lina.”He conceded with a nod, returning his attention to Brooke.Wary eyes watched him.A touch of fear?Had he given her cause—perhaps, if she believed his would be the final say in whether her family came to live with Mother.“I suppose I do have questions, Brooke, but this is not an interrogation.You needn’t justify yourself to me.My mother wants you here.I wish to be certain that it is also what you want.”

Lips parting slightly, Brooke canted her head.“You do?”

He’d surprised her.Excellent; truth often spilled more easily from an off-balance subject.“You stopped yourself from using ‘aunt.’Why?”

“I mean…” Brooke spread her hands flat on the table, one atop the other, fingers crossed in a grid.“I would never have called her Aunt Helen in front of your dad, because he was an uptight guy, no offense.”

He could hardly take offense at the truth.“He seemed as much to me, as well.I took a somewhat rebellious pleasure at times in thinking myself a disappointment to him.”

She scoffed and tucked her lips tight too late to hide it.“Sorry.I guess between you and your brother, you would be the rebel.”Her skeptical tone suggested the choice might be akin to choosing which khaki pants were the most punk.“But Aunt Helen is who she is to me.My girls picked it up from me, because whenever Mom says she’s going out, I tell her to give Aunt Helen a hug for me.”

Ah.He’d been operating with a substantially incomplete portrait of the situation.Mother carried no qualms not out of naivete, but because she knew Brooke’s heart far better than he did.“My mother is family to you.”

“I’m not stealing your mom from you.I have an amazing mom—” Brooke craned her head over her shoulder toward the stove.“Don’t listen, Mom, I’m talking smack about you.”

Lina tapped a spoon thrice against the bowl of stuffing as she stirred.“What’s that?Can’t hear a thing over all this noise.”

“Uh-huh, I just bet.”Exhaling slowly, Brooke lost her easy grin.Dark eyes, too old for the roundness of youth in her cheeks, studied him across the table.“But I’m also not some stranger looking to steal your mom’s medications or beat her so she hands over her debit card, you know?She’s a person I care about.A person I want in my girls’ lives.”

Such fears hadn’t consciously troubled him.But as she voiced them, a tightness in his chest eased.Regardless of how well he vetted care workers, he would always be three hours away if Mother needed him.He would know how she was faring only by gauging her words and making frequent visits to confirm her happiness and safety, alert to subtle signs of abuse unvoiced.Living with family—bloodlines aside—who loved her would be the most comforting option for all of them.“I appreciate your candor.Competent medical care can be hired; affection and loyalty cannot.I was uncertain how strong your commitment to this idea would be.That is all I intended to ask, Brooke.My mother’s life may depend upon making the proper choices.”

“All our lives will.It’s just more obvious with Aunt Helen, that’s all.”Hunching her shoulders, Brooke leaned over the table, her elbows a platform that raised her clasped hands.“How our lives turn out, those are all little choices after little choices that stack up, right?We don’t know how well we’ve built the stack until we hit one of those moments when it starts to topple.If you’re really lucky—” She stared across the kitchen, her trembling smile beaming at Lina’s turned back.“Really lucky, then those choices you weren’t thinking about at the time mean something’s there to catch you.Because of choices Mom made—to take this job, to have this incredible friendship with your mom—maybe I get to raise my girls in the house where I grew up.”She rubbed the table, her palm against the smooth grain.“I did my homework right here while our moms planned out dinner menus.They taught me how to plant flowers in the spring and put the beds to sleep before the snows came in the fall.”

He'd learned the same lessons at Mother’s side.Submitted his early artwork for her and Lina’s critique.Practiced math flash cards Lina held up for him while dinner simmered.

“I want that for my girls, Henry.”Brooke sat back in the chair, her chin lifted, her gaze unyielding.“Nobody’s childhood is perfect, but this was a pretty good one.”

“Yes, I see that it was.”They would all do well to remember the good along with the bad.Alice, certainly, seemed to find her happy memories more accessible as she worked through her own complicated childhood.He would craft a new homework exercise.Not only for Jay; this would be a repeatable task for all three of them, to share one pleasant memory from childhood and one troubling memory—troubling either at the time or in retrospect—and discuss how they might partake in new memories to lessen the lingering hurt.A cozy meal with a newly formed family would be an excellent start.“Shall we fetch everyone for dinner?We’ve a multitude of decisions to make if you mean to be moved in before your winter teaching break ends.”

Lina clapped her hands and pressed them below her chin.Smiling beatifically at them, she shook her head.“Don’t mind me.There was a fly in the house.”

“In December.”Brooke’s dry wit might match his own, if not for her rolling eyes.“Sure, Mom.”She pushed to her feet as he quickly followed suit.“Thank you, Henry.Guess I shouldn’t have been so nervous.You might have your dad’s outer shell, but you have your mom’s heart.”

His heart thumped merrily to think so.

“I trust you’ll keep her safe for me.”He bent his arm, offering Brooke his elbow, his own nerves well assuaged.“As she is your honorary aunt, that would make us first cousins.Welcome home, cousin.”

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