Page 14 of All in for Christmas

I sit waiting for Mom at Beaumont’s. It’s a swanky place with chunky wooden tables and walls made from old wooden doors suspended from a heavy metal track.

They’re painted in rustic tones: reds, oranges, and browns.

The flooring’s washed stone. Brass lighting fixtures suspend from the ceiling like enormous hoods.

I’ve ordered myself a glass of wine while I wait.

Mom texted she’s running behind, which is honestly just like her.

This gives me comfort, that she’s still who I think she is in this decidedly different place.

I scan through my photo app, flipping back through the years with my thumbs.

Oh my gosh. There’s Henry as a baby! What a precious nugget, tucked in his proud papa’s arms. Looks like we’re in the hospital from the bassinet behind them and the design of the swaddling blanket and the infant cap on his head.

I search for Eleanor’s baby pictures next but find Scout’s puppy shots first. I giggle out loud at his adorable baby snout poking out from his curtain of bangs.

He snuggles on Eleanor’s lap—tummy up—as she holds him, looking proud.

She’s got to be right around three. Her pigtails are shorter, not even hitting her shoulders.

I scour back for her baby photos and find them, the shots of me as a first-time mommy filling my heart with more joy than I can fathom.

In between, there are vacation pictures. Our family at the beach. Scout frolicking in the waves with a tennis ball in his mouth. Me and the kids digging with shovels and buckets in the sand. All bright and sunny smiles, in bathing suits.

Happy holidays shared with Mom and Dean’s family.

Groups gathered around a larger table, maybe at Dean’s parents’ house.

His sister, Jenny, holding hands with a college boyfriend.

Dean beaming and slicing a turkey. The kids dressed for Halloween.

Henry’s a turtle and Eleanor’s a ninja. I stumble upon my girl group next. All of us toasting with margaritas.

There’s a shot of Scotland! Purple heather and rolling hills.

Oh my gosh! We’re on a boat touring Loch Ness!

No, wait. That’s not us . It’s Dean’s parents, standing side by side on a sun-splashed deck wearing warm coats, scarves, and sunglasses.

The water gleams deep blue. Urquhart Castle’s on the shore.

My heart aches dully. Of course Dean and I didn’t make it to Scotland ourselves.

We don’t seem to be rolling in the dough here.

His mom and dad must have gone and bought the Loch Ness toy for Henry and stuffed Highland cow for Eleanor.

How could I have forgotten everything? So many beautiful memories?

It’s because you haven’t lived them, Paige.

My eyes brim at the loss. I’m aware certain older people suffer when memories slip away.

Though I understood that as sad, I never empathized fully as I do now.

My grandma had dementia. I’ve always feared that Mom will get it, too.

I couldn’t bear to lose her that way. Or any other way.

What about her health? Has she been sick here?

“Paige? Sorry, I was—”

I look up. “ Mom. ” I leap out of my chair and embrace her. Afraid if I let her go, she’ll evaporate, like my old life has.

“My goodness.” She laughs nervously. “Is everything okay?” She wears a paisley print skirt, a ruffled white blouse with puffy sleeves, and a wide brown belt with matching boots.

I place my hands on her shoulders and peer into her eyes. I have to know. I can’t wait a second longer. “Are you okay? Your health? Your everything ?” I can’t bring myself to say “cancer.”

“Sweetheart, yes.” She leans closer and whispers, “I received my five-year cancer-free clearance on Wednesday. I told you all about it. The clinic threw me a party, with a cake and balloons. It was so sweet.”

“Thank goodness!” The air whooshes back into my lungs and I breathe, breathe. Hug her tightly again then let her go.

Her big blue eyes go round. “Are you okay?” she asks me. “Because I have to say, Paige, you’re acting a little strange.”

“Yes, yes, of course! I’ve just missed you, that’s all.” I tuck my layered hair behind my ear, but it falls forward.

“Is that it?” she teases and takes a seat, setting her heavy purse on the floor.

“Or do you miss my babysitting?” Relief crashes over me in big, sloshy waves.

This is definitely the Mom I know and love.

I’m so happy to see her and that’s she’s not sick.

Nerves churn through me, though, because her state is still uncertain in the other place.

Whatever happens here, I can’t leave her to contend with that there all by herself.

Is that other world still continuing? Are Mom and I having lunch at Beaumont’s in an alternate realm?

My head pounds as I try to sort through it, before realizing I can’t. Not alone, anyway. Maybe Mom can help.

I sigh and sit down, too. “Thanks for last Saturday, by the way.”

“My pleasure. You know I love spending time around the kids. You look cute.” She surveys my outfit and hair. “I told you highlights would work.”

I finger my feathery tresses, getting used to them. “Yeah, they’re great.”

“Glad to see you listen to me sometimes.” Mom shares a teasing smirk, and I laugh, appreciating her in a new way. It’s like we’re bonded now that I’m a mom. But not. Twisted.

Our server stops by, and Mom motions toward my sauvignon blanc. “I’ll take one of those too, please.” She picks up her menu and scans it. “Everything looks yummy.” She looks up and asks, “Have you had a chance to decide yet?”

On my food? Yeah. On other things? Not so much.

Like how I’m going to tell Mom I’m in an alternate reality.

“I was thinking I might have a burger.” In my regular life, lunch is generally a boring sandwich, or a fruit and yogurt affair.

So why not break out of the mold? I’ve already broken out big-time in every other way, it seems. Butterfly tattoo? Really?

She sets down her menu as her wine arrives. “I think I’ll have a burger, too.” We both order burgers with fries and all the fixings.

“Great choices,” the server says, collecting our menus.

“So!” Mom says brightly. “How’s your week been?”

“Er,” I stall. “I’ve had a lot of stuff going on.”

“Stuff?” She sets her wineglass on the table and taps it. “Mmm. This is good.”

“Mom,” I say and set down my wineglass. “My life has changed.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

I gulp. “You know?”

“You have a family now, a husband. A house.” She sighs dreamily. “The wonderful life you’ve always wanted.”

“What? No.”

“No?” She wrinkles her nose. “Oh dear. Oh no. Paige,” she rasps in hushed tones. “You and Dean…?” She gasps. “You’re not having trouble? He hasn’t strayed?”

I blink. “Dean? No, no. Nothing like that.”

She leans closer. “You’re right, that doesn’t seem like Dean. Every time I see the two of you together, he appears just as much over the moon about you as he was in college, and vice versa.” She sits back in her seat and studies me. “So what’s going on?”

Hoo-boy. Here we go. “Mom, I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but, um. You believe in mystical stuff, right?”

“Mystical how?” She sounds a bit affronted.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a bad way.

What I meant was…” I stare up at the ceiling and around the packed café.

But answers don’t rain down on me from above.

I decide not to mention her medical procedure this coming week in the other place.

Why get her all twisted up in knots with worry about the outcome, when I can carry that load myself?

“Paige?”

“Mom,” I say urgently. “I’m in an alternate reality.

” I spit it out before I lose my nerve, focusing on the positive like Mom always encourages me to do.

“Yesterday, I had another life and a great job teaching. I’m starting this new literacy program at Walton where students read to dogs.

It’s super wonderful and can help so many kids and volunteers. The animals get value out of it, too.”

“Wait.” She looks confused. “Does this involve Scout?”

Ugh, it’s like she’s not hearing me. “No, Mom. These are trained therapy dogs for my Paws and Read program.”

“Pause and Read!” She smiles warmly. “I like that.” Finally, she’s coming on board.

“But I’m not implementing the program here. That was in my other world. My life was different . I was single and not married to Dean. I didn’t have Eleanor or Henry, or Scout.” She blinks but she’s listening. “Then I saw Dean at this holiday party—”

“At Walton?” she asks.

“Yeah, there.”

“But don’t faculty and staff—?”

“Mom, please ,” I beg. “Let me finish.”

Her pale blue eyes round. “All right.”

I try to recall where I was. Oh yeah. Paws and Read. No. Party. “So when I saw Dean at the party, it was for the first time in six years. He and I broke up when he went to Puerto Rico—”

“Puerto Rico?” She gasps. “When did he go there?”

I hold out my hand like a stop signal, and she clamps her mouth shut. “Right after he graduated from college. That’s what I’m saying. That’s where he met Wendy.”

“But I thought you said…” A worried frown. “Are you telling me he and this Wendy—?”

“No, no! She was his boss and much older.”

“What?” I can see this is difficult for her. So many moving pieces. I try to wrap it up.

“My point is, Dean and I reconnected, and he gave me this special advent calendar. The woman he bought it from hinted at it being enchanted.”

“Oh yes!” She brightens, happy to understand one thing . “I’ve seen it in your kitchen. It’s very cute.”

I sigh. “I think it might actually be magical.”

“What?”

I drop my voice to a whisper, “I think it changed things. I think it changed me by transporting me here after I put up the Christmas star.”

“What Christmas star?”

“The ornament that goes on the top of the green felt tree.”

“Oh yes.” She eyes me warily, like she’s growing concerned.