Michael handed them to her. “I’m the same with everyone. There’s just the one version of me. Admittedly it’s an awesome version.”
She finished dressing. “You’re a different person at work than you are at home.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m still the smart, supersexy, good-humored guy you fell in love with.”
She threw her sock at him. “At least you didn’t include modest on the list. And this is the version of me when I’m around my mother, so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it. Are you coming, or am I doing this on my own?”
He pulled her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay, honey. We just have to figure out a way for you to be you again. And now relax. Tab is fine.”
“She might not be fine.” The source of her anxiety had shifted. “How can she be so thoughtless?”
“She’s not even five years old, honey.”
“I’m talking about my mother. She could at least have left a note. Tab doesn’t even know her. Why would she just take off with her like that?”
“Presumably because she wants to get to know her. Seems pretty obvious to me. Also, they did sit next to each other on the flight. You mother was a saint on the journey. Tab was hard work, and your mother read
to her and did endless puzzles.”
“Are you trying to make me feel bad?”
“No, Ella.” He sounded tired. “I’m trying to explain why your mother might have taken Tab outside on her own. She’s trying to bond with her, and I think it’s important that we let her.”
“She has no idea of what Tab is capable of. That child is so curious. She climbs everything, sticks her nose in everything, wants to have fun—”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have fun.”
“I know. But my mother doesn’t believe in fun. She believes in self-improvement.”
Michael strolled back to the window. “Are you sure about that? Because it looks as if she’s having fun to me. They’re building a snowman.”
“No way. My mother wouldn’t know how to build a snowman, and—oh—” She joined Michael at the window and stared. Even from this distance she could see her mother scooping up another handful of snow and adding it to the ball that Tab had already created. “I don’t believe this.”
“What don’t you believe? Why all the hysteria and yelling? I could hear you up a flight of stairs. At least tell me you saw Santa and his reindeer flying across the mountaintops.” Samantha’s voice came from the doorway. “Where’s Tab?” She walked up behind Ella to see what they were looking at. “Oh.”
“Yes.” Ella tried not to be hurt by the “hysteria” comment.
“I must be more tired than I thought. I’m hallucinating.” Samantha rubbed her eyes. “For a moment there I thought I saw our mother building a snowman with Tab.”
“She is. And she’s laughing.”
“Is Mom wearing a—blue coat?”
“I thought it was more peacock.” Ella shrugged. “I keep telling Michael how unlike her that is.”
“Well, that’s a good sign.” Samantha was still staring out of the window.
“Sign of what?”
“Sign that she can change. She wears black. All the time. But today she’s wearing peacock.”
“Which will no doubt please our daughter,” Michael said, “as it’s close to a mermaid color. It’s thoughtful of her. And now that I know our daughter is safe and happy, I’m going to take a shower and wash away the drama.” He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the two sisters alone.
It’s thoughtful of her.
Ella felt a sizzle of frustration. He made her feel as if she was making a fuss over nothing, but her difficult relationship with her mother wasn’t nothing.
She rubbed her chest with her hand, and then she saw Samantha’s wistful expression and knew that whatever she was feeling, her sister was feeling the same way. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”