Page 80 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Trust me. It’s yummy.” The eggnog shake had never tasted this good. “You should have gotten one.”
“Not on my diet.”
“Oh, sorry.” Her dad followed his cardiologist’s guidelines.
“Never liked them anyway.” He fell quiet.
Listening to the music, Amanda imagined she was back in middle school and Dad was taking her to night rehearsal for her Christmas concert. When she was growing up, he played chauffeur for Amanda and her friends. After she got her license, she kind of missed those times together in the car. Her father had been the main man in her life until she met Connor.
They pulled into the driveway, and Amanda’s mother stuck her head out the door. She must have been watching for them. Her gray hair lifted on the cold breeze that set the lights dancing on the bushes. “Everything all right?” She clutched her burgundy fleece bathrobe tight around her neck.
Amanda got out and slammed the car door shut. “Get back inside, Mom. You’ll catch your death a cold.”
“Donna, what are you doing out here?” Her father ushered both of them into the warmth of the house. “Connor got out fine. Everything’s right as rain.” Her dad kissed his wife on the cheek, something Amanda didn’t see very often.
“Thank goodness. Oh, my.” Her mother’s face slackened with relief while her dad closed and locked the door behind him.
Shrugging off her coat, Amanda hung it up in the closet before taking her empty cup out to the kitchen to pitch it. Her red Christmas hot pads and the dish towels decorated with holly berries—it all looked so cozy, so welcoming. This was their home, hers and Connor’s. The thought warmed her heart.
“Coffee?” Her mother brightened, heading straight for the coffee maker.
“Oh, I don’t think so, thanks. We stopped for a shake.” Amanda sagged against the counter while her mother opened the bag of coffee, the familiar scent reminding her she was home and all was well.
“Think I’m going to watch the late news.” Her dad looked ready to collapse.
“I’ll bring your coffee out when it’s done, Bill.” After starting the pot, her mother cracked open the refrigerator. “Guess you had your eggnog, but I could sure use some about now. Sure you don’t want anything?”
Amanda shook her head and pulled out a kitchen chair. She felt wired. No way could she sleep just yet. And she sure didn’t want to watch more footage of that fire on the news.
Her mother poured herself a small glass of eggnog and tucked the container back into the fridge. Bringing the glass back to the table, she sat down with a sigh.
“You must be exhausted,” Amanda said. “That long drive and then this. Sorry, Mom. Didn’t mean to worry you but…”
When her mom reached over to squeeze Amanda’s hand, her skin felt paper thin and dry. Her folks were getting old. The thought shook her. “Oh, I have plenty of time to rest. You worry way too much, Amanda. Always have. From the very start, you wanted the world to be perfect. Why, your dollhouse was so neat and tidy, I wanted to move right into it. I sure did.”
They both laughed. Her father had made the dollhouse for her one Christmas. How her friends had admired the dainty prints of the real wallpaper in every room. Amanda actually used to dust the tiny furniture.
“I’m just trying to get my life in order…,” she began.
The tumbler of eggnog hit the table with a thunk. “There. You see? Life isn’t like that, sweetheart. Most of the time it turns out, well, just the way it should.” Her mother was good at giving advice she herself did not follow.
Looking back, Amanda had to agree. After all, she did marry Connor. “Maybe you’re right, Mom, but this baby thing…I never dreamed it would be this hard.” Her voice caught on the last word. Hadn’t she just promised the universe that she would never ask for another thing? Gratitude still stretched the confines of her mind.
Her mother ran a fingertip around the lip of her glass. “You know, we tried for another baby for so long after we had you. Didn’t happen. You were all that was in the plan for us, I guess, and you were more than enough. We always felt so grateful to have you. After all, I was older when I married your father. Well into my thirties when I had you.”
More than enough. Amanda’s mind circled those words.
“Tonight was a big wake-up call for me, Mom. If I lost Connor, if anything ever happened to him, I just don’t know.” Her throat closed.
“But it didn’t.” Her mother was around the table in a minute. Her soft fleece robe pillowed Amanda’s cheek when her mom hugged her. “You do have him, and you two love each other so much. Some day you’ll have a baby. You’ll see. Why, even if this adoption doesn’t work out, if that girl decides she wants her baby, something else will come along. I just know it.”
Amanda wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
When the coffee was ready, her mother carried a steaming mug into the living room. Amanda heard her say, “Why, Bill Treadwell, are you sleeping?”
By the time Amanda got to the door, her dad was on his feet, eyes bleary and scratching his head. Her mom was trying to turn off the TV with the remote. Amanda took it from her hands. “Why don’t you two go up to bed?”
Didn’t take much to persuade them. Her mother was already steering Dad toward the stairs.
