Page 110 of Seeds of Christmas
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
22
RHIANNON
I’ve been staring at my phone for twenty minutes.
Carter’s sitting across from me at CC’s coffee shop on campus, pretending to read something on his laptop but obviously watching me. We came here after spending the morning at his apartment, ostensibly to work on the research paper, but I’ve done nothing except open my contacts, scroll to “Mom,” and freeze.
“You don’t have to do this today,” Carter says quietly. “Or at all, if you’re not ready.”
“I’m not ready,” I admit. “But I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready. Maybe I should wait until I see her in person.”
Carter tilts his head at me. “Rhi, you can’t keep avoiding her forever.”
“Watch me.”
“I’m serious. Even if you decide you need distance, even if you decide the relationship isn’t healthy—you have to actually make that decision. Consciously. Not just... hide.”
And damn it, he’s right.
So here I am. Staring at my phone like it’s a live grenade.
“What if she makes me feel like I’m being ridiculous?” I ask. “What if she guilt-trips me about Matthew? What if she?—”
“Then you hang up,” Carter says simply. “You’re allowed to end a conversation that isn’t right for you. You’re allowed to say ‘I need to go’ and hang up the phone. She can’t actually reach through and stop you. Then we breathe, think, and go again.”
I look up at him. “When did you get so wise about boundaries?”
“I’ve had some counselling in the past,” he admits with a small smile. “Turns out I’m really good at giving advice I don’t follow myself. But I’m working on it. By the way”—he tips his coffee cup at me—“you were right. This is really good coffee. I knew you’d bring me on this date.” He winks.
I laugh, my shoulders dropping a little.
I take a breath. Another. My finger hovers over her name.
“Alright. I can do it.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Carter asks. “Give you privacy?”
“No. Stay.” I need him here. Need the reminder that there’s someone who sees me clearly and doesn’t need me to be perfect. “Just... maybe don’t listen too hard?”
“I’ll put my headphones in. But I’m here if you need me.”
He does exactly that, and I relax a little into the chair.
I press call before I can change my mind.
It rings twice.
“Rhiannon.” My mother’s voice is sharp, controlled. “I’ve been trying to reach you for two days.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call back sooner.”
“Christmas, Rhiannon. You couldn’t even call on Christmas?”
Here we go. I close my eyes, trying to hold onto the feeling of Carter’s hand reaching across the table earlier, the way Professor Bam had written “Excellent work” in her email, the way I felt when I woke up this morning—capable. Whole.
