Page 11 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
She appreciated the easy comfort of being seen. They still looked at her like she was unbreakable, like the girl who would search for fairies in Forest Park and wrote her first story on a borrowed typewriter was still somewhere inside, beneath her New York touch-up and everything she’d left behind.
She wanted to hold on to that part of herself a little longer.
“It’s good to have our girl home.” Gam squeezed her arm as if she had read Meg’s mind. Gam’s spirit shone through in her bright eyes, but Meg could tell that she was slowing down by her pace as they headed toward the car.
“You are absolutely radiant, Margaret,” Mom commented as if she was wondering what Meg’s secret was. “Like a new woman. I hardly recognize you.”
Meg wished she could say that she had Gam’s dedication to meditating, Tai Chi, or Pilates, but she suspected that any “glow” was much more likely the result of her nervous energy. “Thanks,” she managed to mumble, wondering if either of them would pick up on the pulsing hum surging through her bloodstream.
If she was already this wound up, how was she going to manage keeping it together once she got to Bend?
“I haven’t seen you with hair this long since you were in elementary school. Remember when you and Jill decided to experiment with dying your hair with Jell-O in middle school?” Mom shuddered. “I swear it took us three hours to wash the sticky gunk out of your poor hair.”
“Well, I was twelve,” Meg responded with a little grin, giving Mom a playful bump on the hip.
“Oh, I know, honey. I’m just saying that New York suits you. The stylish cut, the outfit, everything.” She gave Meg a soft smile.
Meg couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of pride.
Over the years, she had come to learn that Mom had deeper qualities than Meg had realized in her moody teens and early twenties when Mom seemed obsessed about appearances and things that didn’t matter to Meg, like skin-care brands, designer purses, or using Jell-O as a substitute for hair dye.
It used to bug her. Especially when Mom would ask her to stop by her club so she could introduce Meg to her friends, who Jill had dubbed “the ladies who lunch.”
But when everything in Meg’s world had fallen apart—Mom had been there. She’d shown up when the shit came pouring down.
Not just present. Solid.
She transformed into a steadfast supporter. Maybe she always had been. In fairness, Meg hadn’t been paying much attention in her younger years.
“Kyle cannot wait to meet you.” Mom’s cheeks tingled with a bright pink blush.
Kyle had been a hot topic on their Sunday night video calls.
Kyle: Kyle this, Kyle that, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle.
Meg had never seen Mom lovestruck. She transformed into a teenager whenever the subject of Kyle came up, which was often.
They’d met on a dating app and been inseparable for over a year.
Meg hadn’t been surprised when Mom called shortly after Thanksgiving with the news that Kyle had proposed.
Mom held out a behemoth, sparkling diamond ring that Meg guessed could probably be viewed from space as they waited for the elevator to take them to the third floor of the parking garage. “Isn’t itgorgeous?” She wiggled her finger for Meg’s inspection. “I can’t stop looking at it. I’ve been poring over ideas with the wedding planner—we’re thinking of a special moment when we enter the reception, potentially fireworks, although drones might be more realistic, what with fire danger and all. Kyle loves ice cream, so we’re going to set up a full soda fountain outside, complete with staff in red-and-white-striped uniforms, and then certainly, we’ll have the classics—champagne toasts, a sit-down dinner, dancing, the works.” Mom beamed as she rattled off more elaborate suggestions.
The elevator dinged, but Meg barely noticed. The ring reflected every flicker of fluorescent light in the garage. Mom’s plans were borderline absurd, but her happiness was real and well-deserved.
Meg loved seeing Mom like this—lit up from the inside, talking a mile a minute about heirloom roses, jazz trios, and tiered cakes.
“You’re coming home for the wedding, right?” Mom asked, but it wasn’t a question.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Meg pressed her hand to her heart and let her jaw go slack. There was no chance she wouldn’t show up for Mom. “Have you set a date?”
“We’ll work around your plans. Kyle’s sons both live here, so it’s just you and your dad, and of course, we’d love to have Jill and Matt attend, too.”
“Matt.” Meg tried to keep her voice neutral, but his name came out like a cough as a cold chill spread through her veins. “You’re inviting Matt to the wedding?”
“Yes,” she replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Meg gulped. “Uh, I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t expecting that. Have you been in touch with him?”
