Page 90 of The Wish List
“One from me tonight,” their mother said. Without waiting for agreement, she carried Thomas into the living room.
Beth had initially balked at the idea of fussing with a real tree while their mom was in the rehabilitation facility. But Trinity insisted, so Greer had gotten a Douglas fir for them. And they’d used the vintage decoupage ornaments and colored glass balls plus colored lights to make it look festive.
Butterflies danced along Beth’s spine as she took the seat along with her sisters on the chintz couch in the living room. Maybe they should think of getting her mom one of those motorized recliners that would help her get up and down more easily.
It was difficult to think of May as a mere mortal even after the stroke. Beth wouldn’t be surprised to learn her mother had somehow willed her brain to heal with miraculous speed from the sheer force of her personality.
She reminded herself that that wasn’t such a bad thing, and maybe she’d inherited some of her mom’s determination.
May looked lovely in the soft glow of the lights hanging from the tree. She bent forward, her movements slow but steady, and picked up three matching gift bags.
“For you,” she said as she turned and held up the bags. She gave one to each of the girls then stepped back to watch them open the packages.
Without saying a word, Beth, Freya and Trinity coordinated their timing.
Beth wasn’t sure what to think as she unfolded the piece of paper inside the bag. Perhaps May planned to take the three of them on a girls’ trip or treat them to an afternoon of pampering at a local day spa. She felt her eyes widen as she read what turned out to be an article from a fancy New York lifestyle magazine. One particular quote stood out to Beth: “The updated edition ofA Woman’s Odysseydemonstrates that, once again, May Carlyle is the mother we all wish we could have. She shows insight and compassion as she tackles the issues her grown daughters have faced and discusses her dreams for them—and for every woman who needs a champion.”
“What the hell is this?” Freya demanded, her voice a low growl. “Does this mean you talked about us in your book?” Freya clenched her fist around the now-empty bag in her lap. The paper crackled in the silence that had fallen over their group. “Mom, you had no right. We are not fodder for your publishing ambitions.”
May’s smile faded. “I thought you’d appreciate it the most. You should be happy, Freya. This will benefit you. I have contacts. Can introduce you to people who help with your book. You good, Frey.”
“You read my book?” Freya turned her back on Beth to glare at Trinity. “You gave her my book?”
“I didn’t give it to her.” Trinity’s knuckles went white as she held the article’s edges in a death grip. “She saw me reading it and, well, it’s hard to say no to Mom.”
“You gave Trinity a copy of your book and not me?” Beth reached out and shoved Freya’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you trust me to read it?”
“You know why.” Freya’s voice sounded defensive and sharp, a tone Beth had heard a thousand times when they were younger.
“If I knew why I wouldn’t ask.”
“By the way, I’d like to know why Trinity didn’t tell us she was also reading Mom’s book.”
“Excuse me?” Beth sputtered. “Trin, you had them both?”
“This isn’t my fault,” Trinity whispered, clearly miserable.
Freya snorted. “Maybe this universal mother garbage makes more sense to Trinity, and that’s why—”
“It’s not garbage,” May interrupted, but Beth didn’t spare her a glance. Not yet.
It felt like she’d suffered a one-two punch from her baby sister.
“You had both books and didn’t share?” she asked again, still unable to believe it.
“I was going to, but I’ve been busy. You know that.”
“Too busy to even mention it?”
“Yes,” her sister said even as she refused to meet Beth’s gaze. “Excuse me for not being able to handle motherhood like it’s a walk in the park. I’m sure you would do a much better job.”
“That’s not what I said or implied.” Beth spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t try to make this about me.”
“Isn’t it about you?” Trinity countered. “And the fact that you don’t have control over this. You aren’t the boss of who people share their work with. Maybe you would have been invited to read them if you weren’t so judgmental.”
Beth tossed the article to the coffee table and rose. “I’m not judgmental.” She took a step toward Trinity only to have Freya stretch out a leg, effectively blocking her. The two of them against her, just like it used to be. Rage rushed through her, fiery and destructive like molten lava.
“Don’t put that on me, Trin. Have I judged you for coming back here with no plan for yours or your baby’s future, no clue how to provide a life for him? Or have I supported you?”
