My Kind of Christmas

  “It was no trouble.”

  “And what are you two doing this evening?” she asked.

  “Well, I have something in the Crock-Pot—since Angie was busy all day, I cooked. You’re welcome to join us....”

  “I’m afraid my mother has plans, Patrick.” Angie took a sip of her wine, then left it on the bar and stood. “And we should probably get going.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t pick on Jack.”

  Angie and Patrick stood on the porch for a second to regroup.

  “That was awkward,” he said.

  “My mother. There’s a reason all her siblings call her a force of nature.”

  He laughed. “You haven’t met my mother. Nature calls her a force of nature.”

  “At least your mother isn’t here!”

  “Ride home with me,” he said, putting an arm around her. “I’ll bring you back for your car early in the morning. Before the town wakes up.”

  “I’d like that.”

  When they were under way, he asked, “Are things between us going to change a lot with your mother here?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. I’m a little angry with her for coming without notice. If she’d called and told me she was missing me, that she was looking for a reunion to get back on good terms, I would have been honest with her. I’d have told her about you and asked her to hold off. I’ll see her at Christmas. Even before I met you, I needed space. My mother’s been driving me nuts!”

  “Really? Like how?”

  She told him about some of the arguments they’d had over the past few months. “She’s convinced I’ve gone through a personality change since my injuries.”

  “I like your personality,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  “I realize I’m a little different. It’s deliberate. I don’t want to spend my life so one-dimensionally—I want more balance. I don’t need another shrink to give me permission to do that.”

  “Another shrink?” he asked, looking at her.

  “A little counseling after a fatal accident is reasonable, but my mother has trucked me off to more than one psychiatrist to check my brain. I think she wants the old Angie back. She’d gotten used to that person—the new me is someone she was unprepared for.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “I like the handful I’ve got now. Did I tell you I spent some time with a shrink? After the crash?”

  “No. How was it?”

  “Boring. But that’s how I managed to get assigned six weeks of leave. It was my PTSD. The nightmares.”

  “Are you different now?” she asked.

  “Probably.”

  “I like you now, too,” she said with a smile.

  “Listen, don’t make things harder with your mother than they have to be. I’m a flash in the pan—your family is forever.” He turned onto the drive to his house.

  “If she screws up this flash, I’m going to be furious.”

  “Nah, don’t get mad. Everything will turn out. We’ll manage just—” He stopped shy of the house and just stared. A very fancy RV was parked next to the house. “Oh, God, this isn’t happening to me.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “My mother.”

  “No way!”

  “Way,” he said tiredly.

  She took a breath. “Talk about awkward.”

  Thirteen

  “How long has this been going on?” Donna asked Jack.

  “Since the day she walked into town,” he answered. “The second she saw him. I couldn’t have shot her out of a gun faster.”

  “And you didn’t tell me because…?”

  Jack put down the towel and the glass he was polishing. “Listen, it’s hard for me to see Angie as an adult—I keep flashing back to that little blonde in pigtails and glasses, taking apart anything that wasn’t under guard, acing spelling bees, sitting on my lap and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. I want her to be a child again, but she’s not. She lacks experience, I know that. She’s still a little like a fawn—kind of clumsy and immature in certain parts of her life. But, Jesus, Donna—do you remember being twenty-three?”

  “Vaguely…”

  “You were engaged! And we both know you weren’t exactly a virgin on your wedding night.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah—enough!”

  “Mom kept saying, ‘Not my Donna—she’s too busy studying to have sex!’ What a crock.”

  “I did study!”

  “You were so damn smart you had time to make the honor roll and Tommy Maxwell! You somehow flew under the radar and Mom and Dad never monitored you the way you’ve strapped yourself to Angie.”

  “They had five kids! They were a little busy. And Angie—special circumstances. We used to be so close....”

  Jack leaned close. “I don’t want her to grow up and have her own life, either, Donna. We always want our kids to stay young and innocent forever. But she isn’t brain damaged—she’s a twenty-three-year-old woman who’s doing what comes naturally.”

  “And if I’m not ready?” Donna asked.

  Jack took a moment. “You’ll lose her,” he said softly. “And I’m counting on you to come back when Emma’s a young lady to remind me of this conversation.” Then the door to the bar opened and Mel came in. “Thank God,” Jack said. “The cavalry.”

  * * *

  Maureen Riordan was apparently not feeling as polite as Patrick had hoped—she checked the cabin door and, finding it unlocked, entered. With her was her partner, George Davenport. The two of them shared the big RV and drove between extended family and vacation spots. Retired senior citizens living in sin—and loving every minute of it.

  When Patrick and Angie entered the cabin, they found George sitting in front of a fire and Maureen enjoying the kitchen, more spacious than that in the RV. “Mom?” Patrick said.

  “Paddy!” she said excitedly. She rushed to him, though he held Angie’s hand. “How are you, my love?”

  “I’m…fine… Mom, what are you doing here?”

  “I haven’t seen you since Jake’s memorial and have hardly talked to you at all. When I did talk to you, you just didn’t sound yourself. I wanted to see for myself.” Then she shifted her eyes to Angie and gave a smile. “Hello.”

  “Mom, this is Angie LaCroix, here on vacation, visiting her uncle, Jack Sheridan.”

  Maureen put out a hand and her smile widened. “Ah, Jack! A fine man. So nice to meet you, Angie. I’m Maureen. And this is George. Paddy, I’m so glad the door was unlocked—I think that’s my beef recipe in the Crock-Pot. I started the potatoes and lucky for you I had homemade rolls in the freezer in the RV. I found the cake—if I’d known, I’d have baked one for you.”

  Patrick was thinking that if he’d known, he wouldn’t have left a forwarding address. “I take it you’re free for dinner.”

  “We wouldn’t want to impose,” George said. “Kind of looks like date night…”

  “You’re not imposing,” Angie said. “We were going to have dinner and play Scrabble.”

  Patrick glared at her.

  “By all means, join us,” Angie said.

  “But you’re hooking up the RV at Luke’s, right?”

  “Of course we will. We’re not going to be able to get to Luke’s tonight, as it is. That snow over the dirt on that narrow drive of yours—I think it’s best to wait until morning.”

  “Morning?” Patrick said weakly.

  Maureen just laughed. “We’ll stay in the RV, of course. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is, driving your home around the country.”

  “Mother, do Luke and Colin know you’re here?”

  “No, not yet,” she said, looking surprised. “I intend to see them, of course, but you’re the one leaving to
go back to Charleston soon. I just couldn’t help myself. Paddy, I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “I just want to spoil you a little bit, honey.”

  His mother was the last person Patrick was in the mood to be spoiled by. But Angie was shrugging out of her jacket, letting Patrick take it. “I’ll help set the table,” she offered.

  Patrick just stood there and watched as his mother swept Angie into the kitchen, chattering away about getting the recipe for the rolls from Kelly and explaining Kelly’s connection to the family—Colin’s girlfriend’s sister. Angie got right into it, explaining she had just helped bake the same rolls for the Christmas baskets. At that, Maureen became very excited—she and George might even be able to help with the baskets this year.

  “Just shoot me,” Patrick muttered.

  George put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get her out of here early,” George said. “Right after she does the dishes, because she’s going to insist on doing the dishes.”

  “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.”