Page 58 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Wow,” her mother breathed as Jenna pulled up to Jack’s house.
“I know, right?” Jenna rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Six bedrooms and it’s only him in there.”
Her mother’s eyes danced. “I guess you guys will have to have lots of kids.”
“Mom.” Jenna couldn’t keep from sounding scandalized—as well as slightly terrified. “Please do not make those kinds of comments today, okay?”
“Relax, Jenna,” her mom told her with a laugh. “I won’t whip out the baby booties I’m knitting while Jack is in the room, I promise.”
Jenna shook her head, managing a laugh, although the thought of her mother doing any such thing was enough to make her blood run cold. The truth, she knew, was that she was really nervous about taking this step. She didn’t need any well-meaning pushes from her mom at this point, not by a long shot.
“Merry Christmas!” Jack greeted them at the door, kissing her mom’s cheek before kissing Jenna more thoroughly. “Come in. My mother’s in the kitchen. Polly, meet Denise.”
Jenna hadn’t given a lot of thought to meeting Jack’s mom, what with everything else to think about, but now her heart gave a funny twist as they went into the kitchen and his mother stood up at the table, blinking at them nervously while Jack put a protective arm around her frail shoulders.
“Mom,” he said gently, “this is Jenna and her mother Polly.”
“Oh.” His mother blinked a few more times. “Do I know you?” She glanced at her son, seeming anxious. “Do I know them?”
“No, Mom,” he said in the same gentle voice, “you haven’t met them before.”
Jenna took a step forward. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wexler.”
His mother let out a girlish laugh as she tucked her wispy hair behind her ears. “Oh, please, call me Denise.”
And with that, things suddenly felt surprisingly easy. They all fell into a natural routine, with Jenna’s mother talking easily to Jack’s as they poured out glasses of sherry and Jenna began unwrapping the food they’d brought.
“I feel like a fraud,” Jack told her in a low voice. “I didn’t even provide the turkey.”
“It was a group effort, which is the best kind.” With everything in the oven to warm, there wasn’t much to do but sip sherry and admire the view—the crackling fire, the Christmas tree Jack had bought last minute and decorated with gold and silver ornaments bought at Jenna’s store, and the snowy sweep of the lake stretching out under a bright blue sky.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this view,” Jenna remarked, and then wondered if that sounded a little presumptuous.
“Me neither,” Jack replied, and she decided she was second-guessing herself too much, wondering if every remark meant something or would be taken the wrong way. The sooner she cleared things up and told him how she felt, Jenna decided, the better.
The moment, however, didn’t come for several hours. They brought the food to the table, and lit candles and poured wine, and Jack cut up his mother’s food in a gesture so tender it brought tears to Jenna’s eyes. They chatted and laughed as they ate, and Denise’s occasional confusion was taken in stride. Everything felt easy and relaxed even as a part of Jenna was as tightly coiled as a spring, tense with expectation at what was still to come.
By dessert and then coffee, it was clear Jack’s mother was starting to flag, and he decided to drive her back to the nursing home while Jenna and her mom cleared up.
“I think,” her mom remarked, once they’d put the dishwasher on, “I’m going to start feeling like a third wheel when Jack comes back.” Before Jenna could say anything, she continued, “So I think I’ll take myself off and Jack can drive you home whenever you like.” Her eyes twinkled. “I won’t wait up.”
“Mom.” Jenna shook her head, but she didn’t protest. Her mom kissed her cheek and then, gathering up her coat and gloves, let herself out while Jenna drifted through the house, feeling nervous and excited in equal measure.
How was she going to launch into the whole how-she-felt discussion? Should she give Jack her presents first? What if he hadn’t bought one for her? For a second, Jenna thought about calling Annie or Laurie for some reassurance, but then she decided to be grownup about this situation and simply talk sensibly to the man she loved, yes,loved.
Twenty minutes later, Jack let himself in. “I thought you’d gone,” he remarked as he came into the kitchen, his hair ruffled, and his cheeks reddened from the cold. Outside, the sun was just starting to sink below the fringe of evergreens on the far side of the lake, sending long golden rays across its frozen and snowy surface.
“My mom took the car,” Jenna explained. She went to the fire to put another log on, more to have something to do, watching it settle in the grate with a shower of sparks. “She said you could drive me home. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
He moved to join her in the family room, the fire casting dancing shadows, the spicy smell of the Christmas tree scenting the air, the shadows gathering outside. It felt like the perfect moment—cozy and Christmassy, intimate and expectant with promise. She was going to tell him.
“You haven’t opened my Christmas presents yet,” Jenna said, nodding toward the presents she’d put under the tree earlier. She curled up on the sofa, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt. Any moment now…
“Or you, mine,” Jack replied with a smile. Was she imagining it, or did he seem nervous too? Now that they were alone, the mood didn’t feel quite as expectant… as tense. Or was she projecting her own fears onto Jack, because she was so nervous?
“So who should go first?” she asked, trying for a playful note.
