Page 66 of Season of Gifts

She thought about it from the car to the table and then some—not having to be the team lead, able to stay close to home, driving innovation in a private-sector and government field going up up up.More training, maybe—she could take classes to get her feet under her before switching over.But that was a question for another day, when she could talk it over with Henry and Jay.

Once they’d put in their orders, she swallowed her nerves and asked the more urgent question rattling in her head.“If you don’t need me tomorrow afternoon, would it be all right if I take the car?”

“Sure, go see the sights.You don’t need to hang around for that.”Wade unrolled his silverware and flipped the napkin in half before laying it across his lap.“Didn’t you grow up around here, you said?”

“Mitchell.”Where she hadn’t been in ten years.She’d stuffed everything she could carry into two duffels and a backpack.Ollie and Mom had driven her to the bus station for the long ride to Massachusetts, the farthest she’d ever gone by about, oh, fifteen hundred miles or so.“Home of the Corn Palace.”

He laughed his dad laugh, the warm friendliness aching like a missing tooth.“Never been, but you should go home for a visit.Tomorrow is just going to be listening to people arguing about whose fault this is, and I’m going to be gloriously magnanimous while I tout our amazing support services, aka you.I’ll get a lift back to the hotel afterward.Spend time with family while you can.”

“Family’s important.”More important to her now than it had been in years.On her own, she’d had exactly one tie: Ollie.And now she had Jay and Nat, and Henry and his mother, and Emma and Will and—too many people to count.Which was how it should’ve been all along.But rehashing her dysfunctional parental relationship would not make for an appetizing evening.“How’s your kid doing?”

“Kids, now.You’ll see, if you decide to have some—once one gets sick, the whole house becomes a hospital bunker.Strep all around.”His mouth tightened; he split a roll and began swiping butter across the cut sides.“I checked for Thursday night flights, in case there was something we could make tomorrow after the glad-handing, but no dice.Home by dinner Friday will have to do.”

“Nothing earlier Friday?”

He studied her for a second, then laid his knife across the plate.“How’s your mother-in-law?”

“Bit of a scare this week.Henry’s handling it, but…” She mimicked his earlier gesture, hands spread like a server with dinner plates.“I’d sure like to be there to collaborate on the problem-solving.”

“How do you feel about airport security lines at 4 a.m.?”

“Love ’em.They’re my favorite.”

The grin stretched her face, matching his.Unless something went catastrophically wrong, she’d be on her way home to her husbands Friday morning.And she only had two gauntlets left to run tomorrow.

Chapter thirty-five

Henry

Motheratebreakfastwithdull, listless interest and closed her eyes again soon afterward.Henry, with the portable baby monitor clipped to his waistband, quickly ferried the dishes back to the kitchen.Before his return trip, he scheduled interviews with nursing care candidates.As Mother dozed, he pushed aside his own weariness and texted Alice and Jay a belated good morning.They would already be working, both of them, so he kept his message short.

His body ached for a proper night’s sleep.Even with the monitor, his bedroom lay far too many steps from Mother’s side.The best sleep he’d gotten since initially bringing her home from the hospital—could that truly have been less than a week ago?—had been the blissful hour of ignorance in his own home, his head on the pillow where Alice and Jay had slept.He could blame the various chairs and chaises, the throw blankets, the odd contortions of his neck and shoulders that left his muscles stiff—but the truth was his mind refused to accept quiet as evidence of calm.

He would slide into sleep only to jerk awake minutes later and carefully assess.He counted breaths per minute as others counted sheep, with the result rarely leading to rest.

When she woke, Mother declined books and music.With a dressing gown over her pajamas, she accepted his invitation for a short stroll of the upper hall.“We’ll need to freshen the sheets in Robert’s room and the adjacent guest room for the boys.”

“We have time.”He limited his steps to her pace, alert for any sign of labored breathing.Lying abed left her bored and frustrated, but even simple exercise demanded vigilance to ensure the benefits outweighed the risks.“Barring any disruptions, we may expect their arrival midafternoon on Christmas Eve.”Next Tuesday, nearly a week away.“Shall we begin putting together a menu for tea this afternoon?”

She hummed a half-hearted affirmation.“And Alice and Jay, they’ll arrive when?”

“Saturday, I expect, unless Alice encounters extended difficulties at work.”By Saturday he might reasonably have nursing coverage for some portion of the day, or perhaps be able to prevail upon Lina’s kindness once more.

“How is she doing?”The oxygen tank trundled along behind them; Mother raised the mask to her mouth and inhaled.“In South Dakota, did I hear that correctly?”

“You did, yes.”Though he couldn’t say with any certainty what she was doing there.They’d fallen into a pattern of brief communication, with him supplying updates about Mother’s condition and Alice affirming that all was well with her.Had she told him, and he’d forgotten?Or had she simply determined him incapable of meeting her needs and kept her own counsel?A tangle of appreciation and fear knotted his stomach.“I believe she’s diagnosing a malfunctioning machine, though I confess I don’t know the particulars.”

Mother patted his arm.“No, darling, how isshedoing?She grew up there, didn’t she?And she and her parents are somewhat estranged?”

“Somewhat.”Entirely.He’d not once this week asked her, though the thoughts had flitted through his mind in the gaps between other concerns.But she would be busy with work, and Alice had a task-driven mindset when she wished.They could address the aftermath of having been so close to her parents without the opportunity to reconnect if she showed signs of emotional strain upon her return.“She’s been quite focused on tracking down the trouble.”

He paused in front of the library.Two more doors would have them back at Mother’s room.She reached for the mask more frequently on the return trip than the outbound one; he ought to have turned them around sooner than the end of the hall.

“I propose we rest before lunch, then select one of two options for the afternoon.”Choice conferred agency, and agency created a bulwark against the hopelessness that led to depression.“Either I’ll fetch up one of the orchids and we shall have a still life drawing session in the bedroom, or I will endeavor to wash your hair.”

She eyed him askance, a flicker of light returning to the green.“A real washing, not the dry shampoo combed through?”

“A real washing.”He had Lina to thank for that suggestion.

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