One More for Christmas

“Thank you for your thoughts.” Samantha’s tone was controlled. “I’m capable of deciding what to wear.”

“Well, of course you are. I was just—”

“Shall we talk about something else?”

“Let’s do that.” Gayle shrank

back against the pillows, frustrated with herself for saying the wrong thing, but also frustrated with Samantha. Despite all Gayle’s best efforts, she was so sensitive. You couldn’t afford to be sensitive in such a hard, difficult world. Samantha had always been the same, although not as bad as her sister, of course. As a mother, it had been terrifying to see. You wanted your child to be strong and robust, not so fragile that the faintest tremor would rock their foundations.

Samantha had always been the tougher of the two girls. From the moment Ella was born, she’d taken on the role of older sister, even though the age gap was only ten months. Samantha had been Ella’s protector and fairy godmother rolled into one, and it had exasperated Gayle. If Ella fell, Samantha picked her up and soothed her. If there was something Ella couldn’t do, Samantha would do it for her. If it was within Samantha’s power to give her sister what she wanted, then she made it happen.

Gayle had been at her wit’s end. How was she supposed to teach Ella independence and self-reliance when her older sister stepped in to help and comfort her the whole time?

Talking to Samantha about it had got them nowhere.

I will always pick my sister up if she falls.

And what if you’re no longer around, Gayle had said. How will she get to her feet if she has never learned how?

Samantha had stuck her chin out. I will always be here.

Samantha had been determined to follow her own path and ignore every single piece of advice her mother had offered, even though everything Gayle had ever done or said had been for her benefit. If Gayle had been clever, she would have given the opposite advice in order to nudge Samantha into making good choices, but that wasn’t the way she did things.

Last time they’d met, Samantha had been openly hostile, which had shocked even Gayle.

She’d handled the whole encounter badly; she could see that now, but in her opinion Samantha’s reaction had been an extreme overreaction. Samantha was a tigress when it came to her sister, and that hadn’t changed over the years.

But she wasn’t going to think about that. Move on. It was one of the key messages in her new book Brave New You. Leave mistakes behind. Don’t carry them with you because they’ll weigh you down.

Gayle felt a prickle of exasperation. All she’d ever done was try and prepare her children for life in the real world. That was a mother’s job, wasn’t it? It was unfair to raise a child to believe everyone was good and that the world was a sunny happy place. Better to equip them with the skills to cope with the hard and bitter blows life sent. Would you send someone into battle wearing a swimsuit? No, you’d give them armor and whatever else they might need in the way of protection, and that was exactly what she’d done. She’d done everything she could to make sure her girls wouldn’t be knocked down, but if they were knocked down, then she’d given them the skills they’d need to get back on their feet again.

She didn’t want their gratitude, but she would have settled for respect or at least some acknowledgment that everything she’d done, everything she’d taught them, had been for their own good.

Still, she knew she needed to keep that thought to herself if she wanted to heal the relationship or Samantha would simply walk out, the way she’d walked out five years previously. Her daughters didn’t seem to realize that she was hurt, too.

Samantha looked at the nurse. “How serious is it? Can I talk to the doctor?”

“He’s dealing with an emergency right now, but he should be back within an hour. The scan showed no bleeding or fractures. That’s good news. She doesn’t appear to have memory loss. She’s a little irritable, but that’s normal after a head injury.”

Gayle thought she heard Samantha say and entirely normal for my mother, but she couldn’t be sure.

The nurse smiled. “I’m sure you’d like five minutes alone with her.”

Samantha looked uncomfortable. “Oh no, it’s fine—I can—”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be right outside. Press the call button if you need anything.” The nurse walked out before Samantha could speak or stop her.

Gayle, who had been wishing the woman gone all afternoon, now wanted her to stay. Without the presence of a third person, the focus narrowed. It was just the two of them.

Samantha undid the buttons on her coat. Presumably she was feeling the tension, too. So many memories and unspoken words.

Underneath the coat she was wearing wide-legged pants and a turtleneck that showed off her long neck and good bone structure. Both were white.

White? In Manhattan? Gayle shuddered.

It was an outfit she wouldn’t have worn in a million years, but she had to admit that with her flawless makeup and discreet jewelry, Samantha radiated success and confidence. If it hadn’t been for the coat—Red? Had she taught her nothing? It should have been black. Black worked for every situation—Gayle would have felt gratified, although to say so would in all likelihood send Samantha straight out the door after the nurse.

“Tell me about your job, Samantha.” That was a neutral topic, wasn’t it? “My assistant said you’re the CEO of your own company. Congratulations. You should have told me.”