Page 17 of Meet Me at Christmas
“I wish Lily could be with us,” said Stella.
“Me too,” Mama said.
Stella set down her hot chocolate and pulled out her phone. No missed calls. At the end of the day, she couldn’t be as upset with her sister as she’d like. Stella had run off herself. The burden of her choices again fell over her. She could feel her father’s hand on her wrist even now when she thought about the day she’d come home after leaving Henry. Having heard her sobs, Pop had come into her room and sat down next to her on the bed.
“I never imagined you and Henry would split up,” he’d said as he patted her arm.
“I need to get out and see the world.” She wiped away an angry tear.
Pop brushed a golden curl from her face. “Dreams are like the sails of a ship. You have to run full speed to blow life into them, and then, before you know it, whoosh! You’re sailing and all the hard decisions you made will be worth the work.”
But now, looking back, were they always?
“I’m sorry I missed so many holidays,” she said to her mother.
Mama set her mug on the table. “You didn’t miss them.”
“I didn’t come long enough to really spend time with you and Pop.” The fire crackled and popped between them while remorse took hold of Stella.
“But you were working.”
“That’s a poor excuse for not spending time with family.”
“No, it’s not.” She took Stella’s hand. “As a parent, all I’ve ever wanted was for you kids to feel successful and inspired as adults. Your dad’s job and mine was to give you the foundation to do that, and then we let you go.”
“But at the end of the day, a job doesn’t love us back. The people in our lives do. We shouldn’t waste an extra minute on anything but family.” She was saying the words, but her father’s voice was speaking them into her mind as if he were driving home the truth for her.
I hear you, she thought.If only Lily couldtoo. But, then again, maybe Lily was busy building the foundation for her own family, something Stella had failed at.
Seven
Stella made her way to Vanderbilt Hospital to begin her second session with Henry. The morning sun peeked through the gray clouds, shining a beam of white light onto the dashboard, but it did nothing to diminish her anxiety about seeing him again. The drive felt quick, her contemplations rolling around in her head the whole way there, eating up any opportunity to consider the length of the journey. Unsure if she wanted to continue with the research, given the unique situation, she’d pondered alternatives for her second article, but she reminded herself that with the holiday, other opportunities were nonexistent.
On arrival, she rushed through the automatic sliding doors, stopped at the main desk to get her visitor’s badge, and headed for the therapy wing to check in with Dr. Astley, something she’d been instructed to do each day before therapy sessions.
“How was yesterday?” the doctor asked from behind her desk.
While Stella considered how to answer, the doctor’s gaze remained on her computer as she continued.
“Ms. Weixel said the patient gave you a bit of a start.” She pulled off her reading glasses and peered over her computer with a sympathetic squint.
“Yes.” He was definitely a surprise. Stella shrugged off her thick winter coat and draped it over her arm. “I used to… know him,” she admitted. “Do you feel comfortable with that?”
The doctor came around the desk and then leaned against it. “I’m not sure if that’s a conflict of interest or not. It’s your article, so it’s your call.”
Stella considered whether the doctor was giving her an out, and she was very close to taking it. But leaving wasn’t an option. Not if she wanted that promotion. “Given that he doesn’t remember me as an adult, and he’s totally different now from the person I knew, I think it’s fine.”
Dr. Astley nodded. “Good. Well, I’ll let you head on back then.”
Slightly more jittery than she should be, Stella left the office and walked down to the therapy room for their hour-long session, relieved that she didn’t hear any shouting this time. When she entered, Henry was the only one in the room. He was on the sofa, his lips set in a straight line as he stared out the window. She peered past him to see the tips of grass beginning to show through the melted snow and ice. He didn’t greet her, and her heart ached just a little.
“It’s hard to believe the storm that knocked me in the ditch is now just slush on the roads,” she said as she got situated.
Henry didn’t answer, nor did he glance her way.
“Thank you for saving us the other night,” she said anyway.
He finally looked her up and down with that scowl that seemed to belong to this version of him, but there was a slight softness in his assessment that reminded her the old Henry was still in there somewhere.
