The Things We Do for Love

"I care about you, Lauren. You. " She sighed. "And, yes, sometimes the old needs get away from me. Sometimes I lie in my bed upstairs and close my eyes and pretend youre my daughter. But that doesnt make me who I was and it doesnt hurt anymore. I have to make Conlan see that. " Angie looked up. She realized that she wasnt even talking to Lauren anymore. She was talking to herself.

Lauren was staring at her. "Sometimes I pretend youre my mom. "

"Oh. " The word was almost lost in the exhalation of breath that came with it.

"I wish you were. "

Angie wanted to cry at that. They were both missing the same piece of themselves, she and Lauren; no wonder theyd come together so easily.

"Were a team," she said softly. "You and me. Somehow God knew we needed each other. " She forced a smile and wiped her eyes. "Now, enough doom and gloom. Im going to try to boil this damn gnocchi. Why dont you set the table?"

LAUREN LAY ON HER BED, LOOKING AT PHOTOGRAPHS. There were dozens spread out in front of her. Mr. and Mrs. DeSaria. The three girls--together, separately, and in every combination. Pictures taken in spring, summer, winter, and fall. At the beach, in the mountains, even a few by the side of the road. She looked at these beautiful pictures and imagined how it would have felt, being loved like that for the whole of her life, to have a father come up to her, smiling, and reach for her hand.

Come with me, hed say, today well--

There was a knock at the door.

Lauren jackknifed off the bed. She didnt want to get caught pawing through the familys private photographs. She opened the door just enough to see out.

Angies left eye stared at her through the crack. "Were leaving in ten minutes. "

"I know. Have a good time. " Lauren closed the door, listening for footsteps.

Another knock.

She opened the door.

"What did you mean by that?" Angie asked.

"By what?"

"You said have a good time. "

"Yeah. Downtown. "

"Its Christmas Eve. "

"I know. Thats why youre going downtown. You told me all about it last night. You said the DeSarias descend on town like locusts, eating everything in their path. So, have fun. "

"I see. And youre not a DeSaria. "

Lauren didnt understand. "No. Im not. "

"So you assumed Id leave you here alone on Christmas Eve and run off with my real family to gorge on cookies and hot mulled wine. "

Lauren blushed. "Well, when you put it that way--"

"Get dressed. Is that clear enough for you?"

Lauren felt the smile expand across her face. "Yes, maam. "

"Dress warmly. Theyre predicting a white Christmas. And please remember that Im much too young to be a maam. "

Lauren closed the door and ran to the bed. She scooped up all the photographs except for the few shed chosen, and dumped them back in the box, which she shoved under the bed. Then she gathered up her two disposable cameras and hid them in the nightstand drawer. Once all the evidence was taken care of, she dressed in her old flare-leg Target jeans, a black wool turtleneck sweater, and her fur-trimmed coat.

Downstairs, Angie was waiting. She looked beautiful in a forest green wool dress with black boots and a black cape. Her long dark hair was the very best kind of mess. It made her look hip.

"You look great," Lauren said.