Page 90 of Holiday Romance
Mam enters the waiting room before I can respond, carrying a tray of plastic cups filled with water. “The doctors are with your sister,” she says, passing them to us. “Who sent me away because apparently I was looking at her too much.” She sits beside me, taking in my Christmas sweater with a single eyebrow rise.
“It’s from Paris,” I say, a little defensively, and she shakes her head.
“You poor thing. You must be dead on your feet after all of that.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” I say, glancing back at Andrew. It’s only then that I realize we haven’t exactly done introductions. “Mam, this is—”
“We’ve met,” she interrupts, giving him a warm smile. “When you were asleep. He’s told me all about your adventures.”
Oh, he did, did he? Andrew looks innocently at me as she takes out her phone, reading a text before carefully typing out a one-fingered response. She’s still texting when he stands suddenly, giving an exaggerated yawn.
“Just going to go stretch my legs,” he says, wandering off before I can stop him.
“He’s very handsome,” Mam murmurs, still focusing on her phone. “You never told me he was handsome.”
I make a noncommittal noise, waiting for her to send her message. “Your hair’s nice.”
“The new girl at the salon says I can pull off gray.”
“You can.”
“Hmmm.” The phone goes to her lap as she turns to me, rubbing her thumb across my cheek. Whatever she sees in my face must satisfy her because she lets me go, moving her attention back to the labor doors. “I’m glad you’re still in one piece. You had us all in a panic thinking you wouldn’t make it back.”
“I didn’t think it would be that big a deal.”
“To not have you home?” She seems surprised by my surprise. “Why would you think that?”
“Just…” I trail off, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. We’re not exactly big Christmas people.”
“I still want you here,” she says. “We both do. You should have seen your father. He usually tracks your plane by the minute. And this year, with the storm, we were terrified that you wouldn’t be able to make it back at all. He stayed up all night waiting to see if they would put on extra flights.”
“You didn’t say anything,” I protest, thinking of all the calls Andrew had to fend from his family.
“And stress you out even more?” Mam shakes her head. “That’s the last thing you needed, to be worrying about us. Molly, you’re an adult. One who’s off living her own life. I never want to make you think that you have to drop everything to come back here. Only if you want to.”
“I do want to,” I say quickly. “I always want to.”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to my sweater. “If you want to start putting up decorations,” she begins, and I almost smile at the reluctance in her voice.
“I don’t. I really, really don’t. I just want to be with you guys.”
She seems a little mollified by that, leaning into me as though sharing a secret. “Did you see that light-up snowman the Brennans put up on the roof? Where they’re finding the money for all the electricity, I don’t know. But God forbid I say anything to them about it.”
“I’ll have to take a picture for Andrew,” I say. “He loves all that stuff.”
“Does he now? And that’s what’s rubbing off on you, is it?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“You’ll be wearing reindeer antlers on your head next,” she mutters.
“Or putting up stockings in the dead of night. Can you imagine if Dad walked down the stairs one year and the whole house was like Santa’s grotto?”
“He probably wouldn’t notice,” she says dryly, and I laugh. Her expression softens at the sound.
“I’m glad you made it home,” she says. “Never think that I don’t want that.” She draws me into a hug, kissing me firmly on the cheek.
“We’re being watched,” she adds, when we pull away and I glance over my shoulder to where Andrew lingers by the magazine rack, giving us our moment. “Should that boy not be on a bus somewhere?”
