Page 4 of All in for Christmas

Snow speckles the windshield of my burgundy-colored SUV, and the automatic wipers turn on.

I peek at the darkened sky as snow strikes against the pavement ahead of me, my headlights painting the road.

I hope Dean’s right about it clearing up later, so he can see that comet he’s so excited about.

Of all the people in all the world, it’s amazing he’s at Walton.

If I were the superstitious type—which I’m not—I might view our working there together as a sign.

I recall the dreamy look in his eyes when we said goodbye, and sigh.

There was a time, with Dean, when I envisioned a different sort of life for myself.

If things had gone differently, who knows?

But they didn’t, and I’m satisfied with how things turned out.

Who needs kids and sleepless nights? A messy house…

laundry ? Not me, thankfully. I’m good where I am.

My spirt flags, but I shake off the gloom.

I couldn’t let my path be swayed by romance.

I had to chart my own course. Plus, I had someone else to think of.

The phone rings through my dashboard on my Bluetooth and the caller ID lights up.

Mom. What is she, psychic?

I press the answer button on the steering wheel with my thumb.

“Hi, Mom.” The heater blasts, ushering in that clean, new-car smell. My one-year-old vehicle still gleams like new.

My SUV technically belongs to the bank, but in another four years, I’ll hold the title free and clear.

When the dealership offered me competitive financing, the splurge was hard to resist. My last car broke down every other week .

I’m glad to have moved past my poverty phase and into a new one. Adulting.

“ Paige. ” She sounds as cheerful as ever. “How was the holiday party?”

“Good! And—” I pause a beat. “Surprising.”

“Oh?”

I weigh how much to tell her, because I don’t want her butting in.

Then again, despite our differences, she’s my best friend.

I really miss my old college bunch: Kirstin, Mia, and Heather.

We had such great times, but now they’ve fallen away with husbands and families of their own.

We’ve tried so many times to get together, but between their obligations and my work commitments, we’ve never managed to coordinate our schedules.

Sometimes I suspect they still get together without me.

It shouldn’t hurt my feelings and it doesn’t. Except for the tiniest bit.

Naturally, they should meet up to discuss baby milestones and whatnot while drinking margaritas.

I saw them at that Mexican restaurant once seated at an outdoor table, laughing and living it up.

They all looked good and happy. Companionable.

And I’m happy for them, I am. They have so much in common, and I’m—more or less, the odd one out.

So. I decide to let Mom know. Because, honestly? I’m dying to tell someone.

“Dean was there.” I catch a glimpse of the gift on the passenger seat beside me with its big blue bow. An item portending change and Christmas magic. Ha. Ha. Ha. Or is that ho, ho, ho ? Very funny. And impossible.

“Dean Burton?” She gasps audibly. “He’s not in Colorado?”

“Apparently not anymore. He’s taken a post at Walton teaching physics. He’ll start there next semester.”

“Well, well, well,” she says cheerfully. “What a small world.”

“Now, Mom.” I know what she’s thinking. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” I say like that’s a full answer. I keep a firm grasp on the wheel as I drive. This windy mountain road’s bolstered by guard rails. A craggy mountain ridge on my left sports frozen cascades and spiky icicle drips. Tall trees in the valley below are covered in white.

“Is he married?”

“No.”

I can picture her clapping her hands together. “It’s not over until it’s over!”

“It’s over, Mom.” Even as I say it, my seatbelt feels too tight.

Though I’d convinced myself that Dean was in my past, I sure didn’t feel over him at the party.

Those old feelings came crashing down on me like an avalanche, so hard my heart still feels the bruising.

But there’s no way to undo what happened back then.

Mom continues with her sunny tirade. “Well I, for one, take this as a very good sign. The two of you must have been put together at the same school for a reason.”

“Yes,” I say drolly. “That reason is called our former physics teacher, Edward Stone, who moved to Northern Virginia on account of his wife’s business transfer.”

“No,” she insists stubbornly. “That reason is called fate.”

Mom’s a big believer in fate and romance.

She thinks she wants happily ever after, but what she truthfully enjoys are possibilities.

Reality is what she doesn’t appreciate so much.

Like when the bloom is off the rose, and they start leaving towels on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink.

Not that I honestly blame her. Being single has its charms. Several of them, truthfully.

Being single is good! More people should aspire to it!

Like me! Oh, wait. I scowl as a salt truck passes by in the opposite lane.

It’s got its shovel raised, scattering chemicals in its wake.

“So, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject, although I suspect it won’t be changed for long.

Being two glass-half-full-type people, Mom and Dean shared a bond.

Dean teaches science, but that doesn’t keep him from seeing the outstanding possibilities in this world.

I’m more about words and logical conclusions.

Like when you dump someone six years ago, they’re probably not eager for a fresh start.

Just because they show up at the same school where you work.

Coincidentally. And not on account of fate.

“Yes,” she says about our weekly date. “I thought we’d try that new place, Beaumont’s.”

I’ve heard they have great burgers. “Sounds good.”

Her voice takes on a happy lilt. “Can’t wait to tell you about my new special someone.

” Mom’s the perpetual romantic, forever searching for her prince.

She’s been searching for as long as I can remember.

What I can’t recall so well are the names of the many boyfriends she’s had.

I don’t even know who my dad is, because she was never able to figure it out, and she doesn’t seem to particularly care.

I do, though. Or at least I once did. It’s easier as an adult than it was when I was a kid. Still. There are moments.

“Oh yeah? Who is he?”

She chuckles warmly. “I’ll tell you more at lunch. Want to say noon?”

“Okay. Noontime it is!”

Mom and I have gotten in the habit of exchanging early Christmas gifts.

That way, we make the actual day more about togetherness and food.

I try to get Mom what she wants, but she always says the same thing: earrings, because she thinks they’re inexpensive.

The one time I got her diamond stud earrings, she made me take them back.

So I’m fine with our arrangement to only exchange trinkets.

She generally gives me a Christmas tree ornament each year, even though I’ve never once put up a Christmas tree.

It honestly is the thought that counts, and each one is special because I know she took care in selecting it.

Before we hang up, she stops me. “Oh, Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a little favor to ask about next week.”

The first part of my week is busy with wrapping up the semester and my Paws and Read program launch, but I’ll be there for her, naturally, if I’m able. She’s quiet an instant too long, which is very unlike bubbly Mom. “What is it?”

“I have an appointment for a procedure, that’s all. I’ll be under anesthesia so won’t be able to drive myself home after. I could ask my new fellow to take me, but honestly I’d feel better with you.”

My heart’s in a vise. The last procedure Mom had was to remove cancer from her spleen. They thought they’d gotten it all. She endured the rigors of chemotherapy and radiation nonetheless, and has just now grown back her curly red hair. “What kind of procedure?”

“I don’t want you to worry,” she says, meaning this must be worse than I thought.

“It’s just some additional testing.” No, no, no, no.

No. This can’t be happening again. Not to someone as goodhearted and kind as Mom.

“An ultrasound and MRI.” They must have found something on the scans she had done last week.

She’d returned to her oncologist for a routine checkup and was about to receive clearance for going five years cancer free.

Dean never knew about Mom. She got sick my senior year of college

Wait. Queasiness roils through me. Mom would not need anesthesia for those things. “Anything else?”

She blows out a soft breath. “Perhaps a small biopsy, noninvasive, laparoscopic, but honey, the doctor says it’s just a precaution. He’s very thorough.”

Hot tears spring to my eyes and I have trouble seeing the road.

I wipe them back with a glove and pull myself together.

Me having an auto accident right now will in no way help Mom.

She needs me here. “When’s your appointment?

” I try to keep my voice steady but fail.

It shakes just a little and my chin trembles.

“Well, since you’re so busy right before break, I asked them to schedule me for Wednesday, on Christmas Eve morning. I know school is closed then. I hope that’s okay?”

The windshield wipers in front of me tick back and forth as snow hits the glass. I dab my nose with a tissue and try to hide my sniff so she can’t hear it. “Of course, Mom. I’ll take you.”

“Great! And Paige?”

“Hmm?”