Page 31 of Christmas at Watson Memorial

“You're running late?” I repeat, confused.

“I don't know how to be any other way.”

“Then learn, Mom. I'm not that little girl anymore who'd do anything for your approval. I don't need it anymore. I'm your daughter, but I'm not your reflection. What I need now is a mother I can talk to, a mother who values me. Please accept who I am. We still have time.”

She stops just before reaching the door, her hand already on the knob.

“I saw you in the news. That little girl, did she survive?”

“Yes, she survived. Her name is Holly, and she wants to be a helicopter pilot.”

“Like your Selene.”

“Yes, she was the one who flew through the snowstorm when no one else dared.”

“I see,” is all I hear before she closes the door and vanishes, leaving only a lingering scent of Chanel in the air.

“Wow, your mom is intense,” Selene whispers in my ear, hugging me from behind.

“She is,” I acknowledge. “I've never dared to say these things to her before.”

“But you did. I think in the long run it'll be really good for your relationship. She'll start seeing you as an adult woman and not still as a child who needs to be watched so she doesn't make mistakes.”

“I hope so. I really hope she understands,” I confess, turning to kiss her lips.

Chapter 17

Alexia – One Year Later

“You keep squeezing that lucky pen any harder, and you'll have a lovely ink stain on your wedding dress,” Arya says, helping me into my gown, her fingers working deftly at the buttons.

The hospital chapel feels different today, almost too small for all the people who've shown up to witness our wedding. Arya and Jackie Stone have woven white lights between the pews, and Holly's scattered what might be an excessive amount of rose petals along the aisle. The air smells like flowers and antiseptic, an odd combination that somehow feels right.

“Holy shit, your mom actually showed up,” Arya announces, jutting her chin toward a corner. My eyes follow her gesture to where my mother sits, looking like she's attending a board meeting rather than her daughter's wedding. This past year has brought us closer — or at least she's trying. She's even starting to accept Selene. Of course,she pushed for us to have the wedding at the beach house in Martha's Vineyard or, failing that, in Connecticut, but we wanted as many of our colleagues as possible to attend. It's touching to see some of them still in their white coats, having snuck away from their shifts.

My father's absence speaks volumes. Ever since he started dating that young legal assistant, he's vanished from my life. Now that she's pregnant, he's using it as an excuse, claiming the trip would be too exhausting for her. Whatever. I refuse to let his choices dim the brightness of this day.

“Dr. Winters?” Holly's voice pulls me back to reality. Selene insisted she be our ring bearer, and according to her mother, she's been bouncing off the walls with excitement for a month. “Selene says she's ready. And she looks beautiful. Like, super, super beautiful,” she repeats, nodding her head vigorously.

“Thanks, sweetie. We're coming,” I whisper with a wink.

“Want to hear a secret?”

“Sure, tell me.”

“You can't tell anyone, okay?” Holly's eyes lock onto mine with complete seriousness.

“Pinky promise.”

“Selene was crying earlier. Happy tears. But remember, it's top secret,” she whispers, adding an exaggerated wink.

“I've shed some tears too,” I confide. “And I'm sure there'll be more when I see Selene. Ready to carry those rings?”

I take a deep breath and follow the little girl. The music starts — not your typical wedding march, but “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves, Arya's pick to keep things upbeat.

Holly wasn't exaggerating about Selene being “super, super beautiful.” My breath catches in my throat. She stands there in a tailored white suit that makes her blue eyes pop, wearing that smile that's just for me. God, I think I could die for that smile.

“Don't you dare cry now, you'll mess up all that makeup,” Arya hisses, jabbing an elbow into my ribs.