The Christmas Sisters

If the weather improved, they could go for a walk tomorrow. It would be easier to talk outdoors.

The kitchen smelled of Christmas and Suzanne was bustling around, an apron tied around her middle.

She smiled as Hannah walked into the room. “I see you’ve been spending time with Melly.”

Hannah touched the pink ribbon ruefully. “What gave me away—the glitter or the ribbon?”

Suzanne pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven. “I think you’ve made your niece very happy. I’ve made two different soups and frozen them, and I’m on my second batch of bread.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. This is how I stay sane when your father and sister are out on the hills. If I’m busy, I don’t think.” Suzanne eased the loaf out of the tin. “I shouldn’t worry, but it’s blowing a gale out there, so it’s impossible not to. I try not to smother them. Mostly I succeed. I’ve done a better job with them than I have with you.”

“What do you mean?” Hannah picked up a cloth and took the empty loaf tin from Suzanne.

“I worry about you.”

“What happened that night damaged all of us in different ways.”

“Yes, but we both know that for you much of the damage happened before that night.” Suzanne sifted flour into a bowl. “We’ve never talked about your relationship with your father.”

Hannah wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it now. “What is there to talk about?”

Suzanne reached for a bottle of olive oil. “He wasn’t an easy man. I hated that you felt you had to try so hard to win his love. You had so many special gifts, and because of him you never valued them. It upset me. Cheryl and I had more than one fight about it.”

That was news to Hannah. “I didn’t know that.”

“I hoped it would change. Maybe it would have done, who knows. But when they died in that horribly sudden, tragic way, I was worried that you’d somehow be left with this feeling that you weren’t enough. Seeing you wary about people, believing it was safer to keep your distance, almost broke my heart. I wanted to wrap you up and keep you safe, but the damage was done and you wouldn’t let me close.”

Hannah felt something stir inside her. “Mom and Dad dumped us with you. You and Stewart were young—you had your whole lives ahead of you and then out of nowhere you suddenly had three children. All your own plans, dreams, adventures went out of the window.” She’d never voiced any of this before. “There must have been so many things you wanted to do that you were never able to do because of us. You had to move because you needed help from Stewart’s family, and you never had kids of your own because of us. You gave us so much and I gave you nothing back.” And the guilt was always there.

“Having you was a gift. Don’t ever doubt that.” Suzanne wiped her hands and sat down on the chair next to Hannah. “The truth is, I envied Cheryl her three girls. The three of you were everything I would have wanted in my life. When she died, a part of me felt guilty because I got to have you and she didn’t. I was determined to be the best mother possible. Not because I felt I owed it to her, but because that’s what I wanted. I wanted to protect you, and see you with the confidence to hand out your love again, knowing it would be valued and accepted. I wanted you to trust someone and feel close to them.”

“I trust you, Suzanne.” Emotion built inside her, pushing past the barriers she used to keep it inside. “I’ve always trusted you.”

The back door rattled and they both glanced up hopefully, but it was just the wind.

Suzanne glanced at Hannah. “You said that I felt a responsibility and I did, of course. Anyone would in those circumstances. You suffered a shocking bereavement and I was terrified of doing something that would make things worse for you. I couldn’t give you your mother back, so I tried to do the next best thing, which was to do things the way I thought she would have done them. At the beginning I was always asking myself, What would Cheryl do? I felt as if she was hanging over my shoulder, watching me. I could hear her voice saying, Relax, Suz, you’re too uptight. That voice drove me crazy, and I drove Stewart crazy. He used to tell me that we had to do it our way, that if you were going to be our kids, then we had to raise you as our kids. We had to decide what was right and how we wanted to do that. I felt out of my depth. Most parents have a chance to prepare, but we became parents overnight. It was less a steep learning curve and more a vertical cliff face.”

Hannah thought about how terrified she was about her ability to be a good parent. How much harder would it be to inherit three traumatized children?

“You could have put us up for adoption. You didn’t have to put yourself through that.”

“It never occurred to me not to take you in. You needed security. I never had security growing up, and it was a horrible feeling. I was never sure that the ground I was standing on wasn’t going to give way. I was never sure of anything until I met Cheryl. And then Stewart. I wanted you to know that no matter what, Stewart and I would always be here for you.”

“I’ve always known that.” But this was the first time she’d acknowledged it.

She knew there had been times when she’d been difficult to handle. When she’d given nothing back. Last year she hadn’t turned up for Christmas at all. And had Suzanne and Stewart made her feel guilty about that? No. They’d been loving and accepting in the same way they always had.

“It became easier over the years,” Suzanne said. “I decided that there was more than one way of being a good mother. Maybe I wasn’t doing it the way Cheryl would have done it, but I was doing it the way I thought was right. You were my girls. And occasionally I would feel guilty, because I got to have this wonderful family that Cheryl couldn’t enjoy.”

“Was it hard moving to Scotland?” It was something else she’d often wondered.

“No. It was the best thing we could have done. Back home, everyone knew about Cheryl and Rob. You were ‘those poor children.’ If we’d stayed, you never would have had a chance to move away from that. The accident would have hung round your necks, and mine. I could see people wondering if I was the reason they died. I asked myself that same question a million times. I didn’t need other people asking it, too. Stewart said we were moving so that he could be close to his parents and they could get involved, but he also did it so that we could have a fresh start.”

Hannah had always known they’d made a sacrifice. What she hadn’t thought about was how brave they’d been. Suzanne’s honesty about the problems they’d faced was humbling.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly for everything you’ve done. I’m grateful, I really am.”