Page 91 of Mistletoe and Mischief

Wonderful?Olivia could hardly believe it. Her tensed shoulders sagged with relief.

“Everyone knows the Pancake Palace makes the best pies in town.”

Olivia understood how difficult it was for her mother to deal with change. It wasn’t easy for anyone, but the older people got, the harder it was. In her eighties now, Charlotte had coped with the transition from home to the assisted-living complex pretty well. She’d given up the house where she’d lived so many years of her life and surrendered much of her independence. Olivia was exceptionally proud of Charlotte and Ben. Naturally, there’d been doubts along the way, but all in all, the move had been a success.

“Anything else you’d like on the menu?” Olivia asked.

“My homemade applesauce.”

“Of course, with the sweet pickles from last summer.”

Charlotte rested her hands in her lap. “Those will be the last sweet pickles I put up,” she said and, after a short pause, resumed her knitting.

Olivia opened her mouth to reassure her mother that there’d be more pickles and more summers, then realized this was Charlotte’s way of telling her she was willing to give up that part of her life. No longer would she maintain a large garden or make applesauce and sauerkraut. The time had come to set all those endeavors aside.

A sharp pang of loss stabbed Olivia, but then she brightened. None of those activities, those special times, were really lost. With a little planning and foresight, they could continue into the next generation, and the one after that, too.

“Justine was talking about your pickle recipe a little while ago,” Olivia said, and gently patted her mother’s knee. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to put up sweet pickles next summer.”

Her mother nodded approvingly. “I’ll help if she needs advice.”

“I know you will.” A shift had taken place in their family. It hadn’t been apparent at first and the irony of it was that Charlotte had recognized it before anyone else. Olivia felt a burst of joy. The recipes, the special family times, the laughter and the pleasures of being together would remain intact. Each generation would take what was produced and what was passed on by the one before, and then share it with the next. Eventually other traditions would be added, too.

“I’ll be by to pick you and Ben up at five,” she said. Reaching for her purse, Olivia stood.

“When are James and his family coming?” her mother asked as her fingers expertly wove the yarn around the needle. Socks again. Charlotte must have knit more than a hundred pairs over the years. These, no doubt, were for one of the great-grandchildren.

“James, Selina and the children will be there in plenty of time, don’t worry.” Olivia didn’t have the heart to explain that they’d arrived the night before. Charlotte had spoken to her grandson on the phone but she’d obviously forgotten.

Unfortunately, these lapses happened more and more often. Her mother could recall the recipe for sweet pickles from memory, but a brief conversation the day before completely eluded her. They’d have a more definitive answer to Charlotte’s memory problems when they met with the specialist in January. Until then, all they could do was wait.

“I love you, Olivia,” her mother said softly as Olivia started out the door.

The comment struck her as odd. Her mother rarely said those words. She smiled. “I know, Mom, and I love you, too.” She came back and bent over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

For an instant Charlotte regarded her blankly and Olivia knew that her mother had no idea why her daughter would be returning so soon.

5

Five puppies now had homes. Five to go.

It’d been love at first sight. Jack Griffin had come by with his son, Eric, and Eric’s family. The grandsons had each chosen a puppy. They’d fallen to their knees and eight puppies had raced into their arms. It had taken quite a long time for the boys to make their decisions. In the end, they’d selected two males; in fact, they’d already given their puppies names, albeit not very original ones: Baron and Duke. Five were left, since Eddie Cox had picked one up for his parents—three females and two males. Ted had volunteered to watch over whatever puppies didn’t have homes when Beth and the girls drove to Whistler, but she hated to burden him with extra animals.

Instead of returning to the house after she’d seen off the Griffins and their puppies, Beth wandered into the back of the yard where she had the heated kennel. She opened the gate and let her dogs run in among the trees. They were happy to exercise and she enjoyed playing with them, enjoyed their boundless energy.

Her whole family had been pet lovers. From her earliest memories, they’d always had a dog. Kent loved animals, too, which was one of the reasons she’d been attracted to him all those years ago...and now. At one time he’d considered entering veterinary college, but the application process was complex and difficult, with only a few candidates accepted each year. He’d tried two years running and was declined both times. Although bitterly disappointed, he’d decided to change his course of study to engineering. In the end, that career choice had suited him well.

Thinking of Kent, Beth was forced to confront his news head-on. He was involved with someone else. Danielle had made a point of telling everyone what “good” friends they were. Although Kent had called her merely a friend, it was obvious that Danielle intended it to be so much more.

After three years, this shouldn’t come as such a shock—only it did. Her heart felt weighted down by grief and disappointment. Yet she was the one who’d set him free. Not once had she made an effort to turn the tide of the divorce proceedings. Perhaps this was one of those classic scenarios; she didn’t want him but she didn’t want anyone else to have him, either.

Still, she had to ask herself: Did she want her ex-husband back? She couldn’t answer that, not with certainty, and in any event the decision had been taken out of her hands. This sense of loss and confusion was probably typical of ex-wives, she reasoned. It must be.

“Mom?” Bailey was calling her.

Pulling herself out of her musing, she shouted and waved. “Over here.”

“I saw the Griffins leave and you didn’t come back in the house.”

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