My Kind of Christmas
Page 29

“Why didn’t you make her at least call?”
“Make? Is that Latin? Son, you don’t make Maureen do anything.”
“Then how do you propose to get her out of here early?”
George gave a shrug. “I’ll do my best, son. Anything short of faking a stroke.”
Patrick loved his mother. Of all the Riordan boys, he might be the most agreeable to spending time with her. Aiden would be next—he was patient and took very good care of their mother when Paddy was unable to be in contact with her. That’s what Patrick would do. He would call Aiden. Everyone called Aiden when there was a problem in the family. Sean, stationed not far from Virgin River, was pretty good with her because he was manipulative and pretty. But Luke and Colin? Useless.
Patrick sulked a bit during dinner, though even he had to admit the company was good, the food excellent and the stories of Maureen and George’s recent travels seemed to amuse Angie and her laughter never failed to charm him. When Maureen and George got around to asking Angie about her family and about her visit, to say they were impressed with her project to help Megan would be an understatement.
“We can contribute,” George said.
“It’s funded,” Patrick said stubbornly. “The job is done and all that’s left is the surgery. Right, Angie?”
She smiled at him. “If you say so, Paddy.”
George suggested to Maureen several times that they turn in and leave these young people alone, but Maureen always had one more question, one more comment. By the look on George’s face, he was getting precariously close to faking that stroke.
“Well, Angie starts her day early—I’d better get her home.” Patrick didn’t wait for an argument. He went for their jackets and was shuffling her out the door.
“I hope I’ll see you again soon,” Maureen said.
“I’m sure of it,” Angie replied warmly.
And before they could bond any further, Patrick got Angie in the Jeep.
“Holy cow, Batman—were you afraid I’d invite them to move in?” she asked.
“Yes! I’ve never been less happy to see my mother! We’ll stay at your cabin tonight.”
“Oh, Paddy, we can’t do that,” Angie said. “Your mom is right on the property. You and your Jeep have to get back. You have to spend the night at home tonight.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wouldn’t kid about a thing like that. And I can’t spend the night with you while your mother is in the next room.”
“She’s in the RV next door and she sleeps like a dead person! I would know—I was the fifth Riordan to sneak out at night!”
“Not tonight,” Angie said.
“But you said your mother being here wouldn’t change things....”
“Entirely different—my mother is pushy.”
“And my mother isn’t pushy?”
“Well, I’m going through a rebellious stage. My mother expects me to act out.”
“Think about what you’re saying,” he begged. “We don’t have that many nights left together.”
“I know. But family is family—forever, as you pointed out. Be nice to your mother. I want her to think highly of me. To respect me. I just think that as long as she’s here, it’s probably best that we don’t spend the nights together.”
“But Maureen and George aren’t even married! They’re living together in that RV, sleeping in the same bed. They wouldn’t judge us. Come on....”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
“I’m getting that damn RV hooked up at Luke’s before breakfast,” he muttered. “And I’m getting her out of town right away.”
“Don’t you dare be mean to your mother. She’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
He begged and grumbled the rest of the way into town. Then he kissed her silly up against her car in the glow of the monstrous Christmas tree and it still didn’t work. Finally he let up. “Call me when you’re home and your fire is lit.”
“I will. And if it’s any consolation, I’ll miss you tonight.”
“I’m not letting her ruin this. I need to be with you.”
When Patrick got back to his cabin, there were low lights shining from the RV, thank God. He went directly to his phone and called Aiden.
“Hello?”
“It’s me. Mom and George came to Virgin River. You have to get her out of here. Right away.”
“Why? What’s the big deal?”
“I’m seeing someone. A serious but unfortunately not long-term thing. I’m going back to the ship, she’s headed for the peace corps. So we have a finite number of days together. Nights together. And she won’t stay with me or let me stay with her while my mother is here!”
“Oh, I heard about this. Jack’s niece…”
“The men in this family are worse than a bunch of old women. Listen, call Mom and tell her you need her. Cough or something. Tell her you’re waiting for test results to see if you’re dying. I’m begging you.”
“Sorry, Paddy—I’ve got a full plate. I’m pulling a lot of OB call so I can take Christmas off.”
“Do something! I’m sure you owe me!”
“What exactly is the problem? Don’t want your girlfriend to get to know your mother? Because women tend to like Maureen.”
“It’s worse than that. I told you—she won’t spend the night with me while Maureen is here! She’s afraid Maureen might somehow know what we’re doing! It’s absurd—I’m sending Maureen and George to Luke’s first thing in the morning but meanwhile, according to Angie, the lid is not coming off the cookie jar. Aiden, I have less than two weeks with this girl and I really like her. She’s taken a lot of the ache out of me, she’s so special. Get our mother out of here!”
But all Paddy got for an answer was laughter.
* * *
Donna sat at a table in the corner near the fireplace. She nursed a cup of coffee while she waited for Angie for their lunch date. When she walked in looking so fresh and happy, Donna just marveled that she’d had anything to do with the creation of this amazing human being. She said a silent prayer—Please, God, let me be wise and kind for once in my life, please.
“Something has made you very happy,” Donna observed.
“Sometimes things just come together. We’re all set—surgery is Friday morning and it’s all paid for.”
Donna shook her head in wonder. “How did you do it, Ange?”
“Dr. Temple helped me find a willing surgeon and many things were discounted. Then I just rounded up the donations. The big boost was an anonymous donor who gave us a thousand dollars—boy, would I love to meet that guy.”
“Could it have been Patrick?”
She shook her head. “No, but Patrick gave at least as much. He’s the one who said to book it, and he’d pick up the tab for whatever was left on the bill. Every day that I went to the coast towns and hit up the public servants and business owners for donations, Patrick went to the grocery store—he cooked dinner or we met here and I gave him a rundown of my day. And you know the miraculous part? I don’t even dread it anymore—putting myself out there to strangers. I’m growing out of that, at last.” She laughed and said, “How did a daughter of Donna Sheridan LaCroix come out so timid?”
“Anything can be overcome, I guess. So, what’s next?”
“Well, this place is not without work to do. We’re going to start getting together the Christmas boxes for people who need a hand. Jack usually does it here in the bar, but the project has grown. Patrick’s brother lives in a great big Victorian with tons of room. His girlfriend’s sister is a chef and a bunch of women have been baking and freezing things. People have been leaving nonperishables here and at the church for weeks already. Preacher and Jack like to get those food boxes out before Christmas—there are needy people here and there.”
“You didn’t come up here to relax, I guess,” Donna said.
“I get plenty of rest, so don’t—”
“That wasn’t a criticism, Ange. Far from it. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
Angie sat back in her chair as if surprised. “Thanks.”
“Even though I protested, your uncle Jack and aunt Brie were right—we needed a little distance, some perspective. Plus, you look wonderful. Healthy and strong and effervescent. I suspect a certain young man might be responsible for the effervescence.”
“Well, that may have stalled just temporarily—Patrick’s mother surprised him with a visit last evening. She and her partner, George, have an RV and they travel around, visiting and vacationing. They’re retired.”
“Please don’t tell your father! He has aspirations toward an RV and I can’t even think of actually living in a cramped space like that.”
“But you love traveling with Dad!”
“I do, but I’m not one for roughing it.”
“You should meet Maureen. You have things in common. She’s here because she was worried about Patrick. Couple of nosy, in-your-business mothers.”
Donna frowned. “Worried?”
Angie explained about Paddy’s best friend’s death, which precipitated this leave from the Navy. “It took its toll, but he’s going to be all right. We have a lot in common that way.”
It was not lost on Donna that Angie’s eyes took on a proud shine when she talked about him. No argument from Donna—this was the young man who helped a stranger in a parking lot. “Fate is wonderful sometimes,” she said. “When you decided to come up here, I thought you might be bored.”
Angie shook her head. “Of course, his leave will be up soon.”
“Then you should enjoy the time you have,” Donna said.
“Mom, have you been hypnotized?”
“Why do you say that?”
“You haven’t been yourself. You’re different.”
How to phrase it? Donna asked herself. “You’re the guinea pig, Ange—getting me in shape for your younger sisters. It’s time for you and I to meet on a new playing field and no one prepared me for this. While you’re growing up, you need someone to raise you, to keep you from falling off the cliff now and then, to herd you, help you make good choices. And now? Now it’s time for you to see me in a different way. I want to be entitled to an opinion now and then without offending you. I want to be there for you when you need me but you don’t have to answer to me. I want to be in your path but not in your way. You’re officially on your own. So how do we do that?”
“Feels like you’re doing it....”
“But there’s a fine line. Let’s try looking at it in a role reversal—when you think I’m slipping or sick or hurt and can’t take proper care of myself, will you step in? Will you have a board meeting with your sisters and say, ‘Mom is short of breath and sometimes confused and in denial and Dad is useless with health issues—we have to stage a takeover and do something or we might lose her.’ Will you, Ange? Because I used to talk to my friends about child-raising issues and now we’re talking about looking out for our elderly parents. Things change and yet stay the same. I want to be there for you when you need me, but I also want to be able to rely on you because there’s no question I’m going to need you. We have to make the transition somehow. We have to do it as friends. We have to rebuild our trust.”
“Mom…”
“I know—I’m bossy. It’s been pointed out to me for over fifty years now. It wasn’t easy to be the oldest of five kids or be a working mother with three little girls. I might’ve taken on a few controlling issues. But Jenna and Beth will graduate from college before very long and I desperately want this monkey off my back. I want to learn how to be a good partner to my adult daughters.”