Page 44 of All in for Christmas

She points to the table between us. “ Here , here? In Piney Mount, you mean?” She hasn’t touched her chef’s salad.

Though she did devour her French onion soup before.

I slurped up my tomato bisque too, along with a couple of yummy yeast rolls.

Who knew time traveling between different dimensions could be so hunger-inducing?

I mull over the tasty treats I devoured in our cottage.

The Christmas cookies, the butter-laden French toast. Oh my goodness.

“Yes,” I whisper. “But here’s the thing. I was in Piney Mount there, too.”

“In this, um.” She licks her lips. “Other reality?”

Yes. She’s finally getting it.

“That’s right,” I continue. “But everything was different. I was married to Dean—”

She fans out her fingers over her heart. “I wanted to be sure I heard that part right.”

I lower my voice and say excitedly, “We had two kids and a dog.”

“What a lovely dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream, Mom,” I whisper. “It was way too real.”

Mom claps her hands. “Then a premonition!”

I sit back in my chair. I hadn’t thought about that. But no. The necklace. “A premonition predicts the future.”

“That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it?”

“No.” Wait. Since today is the twentieth…

I did get a small glimpse into the future, I suppose, but specifically in the alternate reality.

That wasn’t predicting my future in this world, though.

Dean and I were the exact same ages we are now.

It was our past that had led to a new and different place.

I stare at Mom, who’s desperately trying to understand.

If I can’t bring her on board, how will I ever convince Dean?

I blow out a frustrated breath, and my hair spirals back from my face.

I grab a lock of it with my hand, yanking it forward.

“Paige?” Mom asks, concerned. “What are you doing?”

“I think you were right about layers,” I tell her, displaying my fistful of hair.

“Oh!”

“And highlights,” I add, and she blinks. “I was thinking about pink.”

“ Pink? ” she says like I’ve just told her I’m going to shave my head.

“Come on, Mom.” I wave my hand. “Pink’s not that drastic.”

She twists up her lips. “Maybe not for the average person, but—”

“I’m also considering a tattoo.”

I know I’m testing to get a reaction. She rewards me with one, her blue eyes wide. “Paige Pierce.” She clicks her tongue. “What have you done with my daughter?”

I laugh and shake out my hair. “Maybe your daughter’s loosened up.”

She worriedly narrows her eyes. “You’re not doing recreational drugs?” she asks quietly.

“Mom! No.”

“Well.” She shrugs. “You can’t fault me for the question.” She dumps the pot of blue cheese salad dressing all over her salad, swizzling it back and forth. When she finishes, she looks up. “What were you saying about the future?”

I try to remember where I was. Oh yeah. Premonition. “I was saying what happened to me couldn’t have been a premonition, because premonitions are of events to come, and those things really happened.”

She scarfs down her salad and recounts between bites, “The advent calendar, the lady dressed like Mrs. Claus at the market. Me and what’s-his-name.”

“Roger, Mom. His name is Roger and he’s absolutely perfect for you.”

“No one is perfect, sweetheart,” she says wryly.

“I didn’t say he was perfect for everyone. Merely for you.”

“But I already told you, I’m seeing Stan.”

“Not seriously, though.”

“Not yet, but you never know.” She pats down her red curls. “He’s asked me to be exclusive.”

I gasp. “What? Already?” My heart thumps. “Mom, no, you can’t do that. Not yet. Don’t rush into things.”

“Why not?”

“Because you shouldn’t compromise. Hold out for Mr. Right.”

Her forehead lifts. “You have changed, haven’t you?”

“I’m just asking you to slow down a bit with Stan,” I say. “Maybe give things more time.”

“Because?” Her eyebrows arch.

I huff. “Someone else might come along.”

Mom chuckles and shakes her head. “What makes this Roger so ideal, anyway?”

“Well,” I say, “for one, he’s very agreeable.”

“Agreeable’s better than ornery.” She slices into some larger chunks of iceberg lettuce, ham, cheese, and turkey, forming bite-size pieces.

“And,” I say temptingly, “he’s wild about you.”

“Hmm.” She acts like she’s not intrigued, but I can tell the curiosity’s killing her.

I eat some more of my ham and cheddar quiche and take a sip of wine.

After a beat, she leans toward me. “Are you sure about the drugs?”

“ Mo-om .”

“Okay, okay.” She shrugs and resumes eating. “But I do have to tell you, this all sounds like a fantasy.”

Maybe it is too fantastic to believe. “I had trouble wrapping my head around it, too. But once I was in it?” I sigh. “It didn’t seem fantastical at all. More like homey and natural, and right.”

“Sounds to me like you’re having regrets,” Mom says sagely.

“My biggest regret is that I’m not there any longer.

” Tears prickle my eyes and I turn away.

“I mean, I care about Paws and Read, and I’m so happy to be able to launch that program.

But when I was in that other world, I couldn’t help wondering if there was a way to start something similar there.

” I choke on my sobs. “A way for me to finally have everything.”

“Oh my.” Mom reaches for my hand on the table. “Paige. I had no idea you still carried such a torch for Dean.”

I’m about to protest, but then I realize she’s right. I do.

“I talked to you about this,” I confess hoarsely. “When I was in the other reality, I tried to tell you what was going on in my life.”

“I see.” She puts on her best poker face. “And how did I take it?”

I tighten my grasp on her hand. “You urged me to hold on to what is good.”

Her eyes glimmer softly. “That sounds like great advice.”

“But Mom? How do I hold on to what’s good when it’s been taken away from me?”

“Don’t rush to judgement, Paige.”

“What do you mean?”

“From where I sit, your life isn’t all bad in this reality, as you call it. You’ve got a great job that you love, a nice place to live, and you’re establishing the charity you’ve talked about for ages.”

My heart flutters happily. “Yes, that’s all true.”

“It’s not over until it’s over,” she says in lilting tones. “Last I heard, Dean Burton was back in Piney Mount and working at Walton.”

“Yes, but. What on earth can I say?” I’ve been puzzling over this since waking up this morning. It’s been hard enough talking to Mom. My confession about the alternate reality will sound even more outlandish to him. “Certainly not the truth.”

“Which truth is that?”

“About…you know.” I dart a glance at the street. “The other place.”

“What about the truth that’s in your heart?”

I reach for my pendant necklace without thinking.

Grip the dainty gemstone between my thumb and forefinger.

Everything in its place and all things in good time.

I felt like Mary Christmas was trying to tell me something when she said that.

I’m just not sure what. Maybe that the timing hadn’t been right yet in this reality for me to obtain what I had in the other?

“What a lovely ruby heart necklace,” Mom says. “Where did you get it?”

I sigh, lost in the memories. “Dean gave it to me for Christmas.”

“Wait.” She sets down her wine. “The Christmas that hasn’t happened yet?” She shakes her head. “Paige, did you buy that necklace for yourself? Because if you did, hon, that’s perfectly great. It’s healthy to indulge ourselves with—”

Her accusation puts me on the verge of tears again. “Mom, no.”

She reads the sadness in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Paige. Of course you didn’t. Dean gave it to you ,” she says, speaking slowly. “Four days from now.”

“Yes.” I heave a sigh, feeling discouraged. “You don’t believe me, do you? You don’t believe any of this.”

She nods surely. “I believe that you believe.”

Oh boy. I glance around the café and stop , my view landing on a familiar face with a reddish beard. Roger. He’s at a different table, eating with a younger redheaded man, maybe his son. I can’t believe my good fortune. “Mom,” I say excitedly. “He’s here.”