A Bravo for Christmas

by Christine Rimmer

  Ouch. “Sylvie, I understand that you’re upset with me. But I have to do what I think is best for you, and today that is to keep you home.”

  Sylvie pursed her mouth up hard—no doubt to keep herself from saying those very bad things she’d barely held back at the breakfast table. Then she sniffed. “I want to see Gramma and Grandpa. Can I go to their house, please?”

  Terrific. There were so many ways that would not go well. Sylvie would tell her grandmother that Ava wouldn’t let her see Darius anymore, and then Kate would...

  Oh, what did it matter? Kate would know eventually anyway. And Ava felt so rotten and sad and brokenhearted now, how was one more well-meaning lecture from her mother going to make things any worse?

  “All right. We’ll go to Gramma Kate’s.”

  * * *

  They were barely in the door before Sylvie announced, “Mom said Darius can’t come to our house anymore and I can’t even call him on my phone.”

  Kate arched an eyebrow in Ava’s direction. Suppressing a sigh, Ava nodded. Then Kate turned to Sylvie. “Good morning to you, too, sweetheart. Take off your coat and hat and stay awhile.”

  “I am, Gramma.” Sylvie hung her jacket and her red wool cap on a child-height peg that Ava’s dad had installed by the door.

  “Wonderful,” beamed Kate. “Let me get a hug. I really need one.”

  Sylvie went to her grandma, who scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen area, where she sat at the table with Sylvie in her lap.

  “There’s coffee,” Kate said.

  Ava headed for the pot. “You?”

  “Please.” Kate smoothed Sylvie’s hair. “Apple juice?”

  “Yes!”

  Ava poured the coffee and gave Sylvie her juice. Then she sat at the table opposite her mother and her daughter.

  Kate said, “That is a big bandage.”

  Sylvie cuddled in closer, tucking her head under Kate’s chin. “It’s not so bad, and it doesn’t hurt so much now.”

  Kate pressed a kiss into her hair as the door opened and Ava’s dad came in.

  “Grandpa!” Sylvie jumped down and ran to him. He dropped to a crouch and opened his arms.

  And Ava’s mom said, “I think we need donuts.”

  Wrong. More sweets were the last thing they needed. Kate had enough Christmas cookies and candy on hand to treat a small army.

  But Sylvie loved donuts. “Cream-filled with chocolate frosting!”

  “Pauly-Wally, why don’t you take Sylvie over to the donut shop? She can help you choose.”

  “Yes!” Sylvie crowed. “I need to be there and make sure you get the good ones, Grandpa.”

  So Sylvie put her coat back on, and off they went.

  “Smoothly done, Mom,” Ava said the minute the door closed behind them.

  Kate fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug. “We’ve got a half hour at the most. I’m getting that you broke it off with Darius. That’s your business, of course. But I need to know how you’re handling it with Sylvie so I can support you.”

  Ava felt a slightly unhinged laugh bubble up. “It’s my business? Who are you and what have you done with my real mother?”

  Kate got up, grabbed the cookie tin off the counter and set it on the table. “Help yourself.”

  “Just one.” Ava took a green-frosted Christmas tree sprinkled with sparkly sugar stars. “I need to save room for the donuts.”

  “Good thinking—and it’s occurred to me in the past few weeks that you’re finally finding your way back from losing Craig. I realized I needed to butt out and let you do that.”

  “Finding my way back because of Darius?” Just saying his name caused a stabbing sensation in that ragged, hollow place where her heart used to be. Ava set down her cookie without tasting it.

  Her mom was nodding. “However it’s worked out for you with him, I think he’s been very good for you. And I’m glad for that, honey.”

  But how good have I been for him? Ava’s throat clutched, and her eyes swam with tears. “First, about Sylvie?”

  “Tell me.”

  “They have...a connection, Sylvie and Dare. It’s a strong bond. I should have thought all this through more, been more careful. I shouldn’t have let him come to the house, shouldn’t have let Sylvie get so attached. Now, I’ve told her she can’t see him for a while. But I’m starting to think that’s wrong. I’m realizing that the attachment is already there between them, and I have to find a way to let that play out and, well, I’m not sure how to do that yet. I’ll probably have to talk to him, see how much contact he even wants with Sylvie.”

  “He does seem like a fine man.”

  “Oh, Mom. He is.”

  “And how about this? If Sylvie brings it up to me again, I will just tell her that everything will work out. That you love her and will take care of her and, of course, she’ll see Darius eventually.”

  “That sounds good. And then she’ll tell you how mad she is at me.”

  “And I’ll hug her and spoil her and she will survive.” Kate stretched her hand across the table.

  Ava couldn’t meet her reaching fingers fast enough. She grabbed hold. “Mom.” The tears rose again, filling her eyes, stuffing up her nose. “Mom. I’m a terrible person.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah. I freaked, when I got to the hospital and saw him with Sylvie yesterday, saw the way she looked at him—like he was the dad she can’t even remember. I saw that she loves him and... Mom, I love him, too. And that should have been a good thing, a great thing. But all I felt was terrified. And so I sent him away.”

  Kate turned and took the tissues off the little jut of counter behind her chair. She pushed them across the table to Ava. Ava snatched one and dabbed at her streaming eyes. Her mom shook her head. “You always did feel everything so deeply, just like your dad...”

  “Oh, come on.” Ava blew her nose, hard. “I’m tough and determined, and I can take care of myself. But when it comes to love, I’m a basket case, and we both know it.”

  “It’s understandable. You had a difficult childhood, and I’m so sorry for that. And then you finally let yourself trust a man, gave yourself and your tender heart to him. And you lost him.”

  “That was six years ago. It’s about time I got over it.”

  “And you are getting over it.”

  “Not fast enough, though. And Mom, about what happened when you got sick, I really don’t blame you for any of that.”

  Kate tipped her head to the side, frowning.

  Ava knew there was something she wasn’t saying. “What?”

  “Maybe you don’t blame me...”

  “I don’t. Truly.”

  “But I think that you do blame your father a little.”

  Ava took another tissue, blew her nose again—and busted to it. “It’s true. I’ve blamed Dad for not getting out there and getting work sooner, for getting so wrapped up in you and his terror of losing you that he stopped taking care of business. But right this minute, all I can think of is how much he loves you, how much he loves all of us. All I can see is him coming in the door a few minutes ago, holding out his arms so Sylvie could run into them. I see...that you’re here, Mom, and you always have been, ready to listen to me admit what an idiot I’ve been. And Dad’s driving Sylvie to Deeliteful Donuts so that you and I can talk. I see that I’m a lucky woman, to have you and Dad for my parents. I see that we fought our way back from hell as a family and we’re all still together
, still looking out for each other, taking care of each other. And most of all, I see that putting blame on Dad or anyone, really, is just another way I’ve been a complete fool.”

  Now her mom’s eyes were misty. “Honey, you are not a fool. And that was beautiful, what you just said.”

  “Yeah, well. Even a gold digger can have insights now and then.”

  Her mom started laughing—right through her tears. “You’re no gold digger. A gold digger makes her money by sleeping with rich men.”

  “Hmm. So I guess I’m more of a money-grubber, then, huh?”

  “Stop. You really are being too hard on yourself.”

  “You say that because you’re my mom and it’s part of your job description to believe I’m a better person than I actually am.”

  “No. I say it because it’s true. Be gentle with yourself, honey. Trust yourself. It’s all going to work out for the best. You just wait and see.”

  * * *

  Trust yourself, her mom had said.

  But really, how could she? She’d messed everything up so badly with Dare, messed everything up and at the same time failed to even consider how her screwing up would affect her own child.

  If he had any sense at all, Dare would never get near her again. And if only she didn’t miss him so much, she would simply give up now. Move on. Try to get over him, let him forget about her, hope that he would find a woman who knew how to appreciate a man like him.

  But she did miss him, desperately. She wanted another chance with him.

  She lay awake all that night trying to decide what to do, how to approach him, what in the world to say. She must have finally dropped off sometime after 4 a.m. And when she woke up at six, she was so tired, she decided to take another workday off.

  And Ava Malloy never took a workday off.

  But Christmas was just around the corner, she told herself. And a few days off would be good for her greedy little money-grubbing soul. She lay in her big bed alone between her silky-soft high-thread-count sheets and thought of her parents, of how they’d struggled all their lives to get by.

  She’d wanted a different life, a safer life, with a nicer house and money in the bank. And she’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she?

  And her mom and dad? They just had what mattered most: each other.

  * * *

  Ava changed Sylvie’s bandage for a much smaller one after breakfast. Her stitches already seemed to be healing.

  “It doesn’t even hurt today, Mom,” Sylvie announced. “And can I please go to day care? Today’s the Christmas party.”

  So Ava drove her over there. Then she met Janice at the Blueberry clubhouse to pick up the presents Sylvie had made and wrapped for the family and then left behind when Dare rushed her to emergency.

  Janice unlocked the door and ushered her inside, where the heater was turned down so low that both of them shivered, even in their heavy coats.

  “I think I’ll turn the heat up just a little so the pipes don’t freeze.” Janice went to the thermostat.

  Ava wandered on into the main room, where a small pile of wrapped presents waited next to a larger pile of handmade ornaments. She spotted Sylvie’s bejeweled creation among them.

  Janice came up behind her. “The wrapped ones are Sylvie’s. The rest belong to Darius. I keep reminding myself to call him and ask when he wants to pick them up.”

  “I’ll take them to him.” The words were out of her mouth before she could remind herself of the thousand reasons why she had no right to go there.

  “Wonderful,” said Janice. “I’ll get you a box.”

  So Janice dug an empty box out of the storage room and found a separate bag for Sylvie’s gifts. They carried it all out to Ava’s Suburban.

  She drove away feeling reprehensible. Like she’d not only dumped Dare because she was a total coward, but then she’d gone and stolen his Christmas presents, too.

  And then she started thinking about him all alone in his house with only Daisy for company. Had he ever gotten around to decorating his tree?

  She drove on autopilot, remembering all the ways she could have been a better girlfriend during the too-short time they’d had together. She could have taken Sylvie out to his place just once. It wasn’t like keeping Sylvie away from where he lived had fixed it so Sylvie didn’t get attached to him. Sylvie loved him and missed him without ever once seeing his place, without meeting his dog or petting his horses.

  Ava drove right past the turn to her house and just kept on going, realizing she was actually heading out to Dare’s only when she was almost to the long driveway that led up to his house.

  Really, she had no business being there. She should give it up and go back home.

  But she didn’t. Her throat tight and her pulse pounding in her ears, she signaled, braked and entered the twisting driveway.

  Stopping in the turnaround not far from the front porch, she jumped out and ran up the steps before she had a chance to lose her nerve.

  But the house seemed too quiet, and she couldn’t see any lights on. She knocked. No answer. No sign of Daisy, even. He was probably at work.

  She peered in one of the sidelights next to the door and saw a big Fraser fir propped in a bucket against the wall in the entry hall. Not a single string of lights or an ornament in sight.

  She actually thought about breaking and entering—and decorating his tree for him while he was gone. But did he even have decorations? The boxful in the car wouldn’t be nearly enough.

  Not to mention it was a truly bad idea. If she wanted another chance with him, she needed to call him or text him like any normal, sane person, to call him and ask him if they could meet and maybe talk.

  And she would definitely do that, get in touch with him, get down on her knees in front of him and beg him to consider maybe taking her back.

  Just...not right this minute.

  Whirling, she ran back down the steps, got the box of ornaments from the car and carried it up to the door.

  She should at least leave a note, but she had no paper handy, let alone a pen.

  Maybe she should just text him about it: Hey. How’ve u been since I dumped u? Took those ornaments the girls made to your house. Left them on the porch ❤ u and miss u and I c now I was crazy 2 send u away. I wish we could...

  Oh, no. Uh-uh. He didn’t need a text from her.

  When he got home he would find the box, and what did it matter who had left it there?

  She went back down the steps again, slowly this time. Too soon, she was climbing up behind the wheel of her Suburban. She pulled the door shut and started the engine and made herself drive away.

  * * *

  When Sylvie got home from day care, Ava gave her the bag of presents. Sylvie carefully placed each one under the tree. She didn’t ask about Dare’s gifts from the Blueberries. Ava didn’t tell her she’d driven them out to his place. It seemed downright dangerous to mention Dare to her daughter right now. Why invite a flood of questions she had no idea how to answer?

  That night after Sylvie was in bed, Tom showed up at her door. Ava led him to the kitchen and poured him some coffee.

  He said, “Mom told me you broke it off with Darius.” Ava started to say that she didn’t want to talk about it, but Tom didn’t give her time to launch into denials. “I just want to say that I was a jerk about him. He’s an okay guy.”

  “Well, thank you. And I know he is.”

  “I only want you to be hap
py, Ava.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Not hard enough, I’m guessing,” her brother muttered into his coffee cup.

  She didn’t even call him a dirty name. Mostly because he happened to be right.

  * * *

  At ten in the morning on Christmas Eve day, Chloe dropped Annabelle off for a playdate with Sylvie. She came back at one to pick Annabelle up.

  “How’re you doing?” she asked, before Ava called the girls down from upstairs.

  How much did Chloe know about her and Darius? There was no time to go into it now. “Long story,” Ava said lamely.

  Chloe touched Ava’s arm, a little pat that spoke of friendship, of reassurance. “We should have a girls’ night out. Get all the Bravo sisters together, see if Rory and Paige and Addie can come, too. We’ll go out to the Inn.” They all loved the Sylvan Inn. It was homey, with great food. “Maybe this coming week, before New Year’s?”

  Ava realized she wanted that, a night out with the Bravo women. She wanted to catch up, to check in with Jody and hear how she was doing. To ask Elise how the wedding plans were going. To listen to Addie rave on about her baby son. She wanted to tell them all everything, what a fool she’d been, how she couldn’t seem to pull the trigger on her decision to reach out to Darius, to try for another chance with him. “A girls’ night out. I’d like that.”

  “I’ll set it up. Call you on the twenty-sixth?”

  “You’re on.”

  After Chloe and Annabelle left, Sylvie helped Ava prepare a couple of side dishes and a pan of Parker House rolls to take to the Janko family Christmas dinner tomorrow. It was a quiet afternoon and evening. Ava kept the Christmas tunes playing. After dinner, Sylvie chose a Christmas movie to watch.

  Bedtime came. Ava tucked the covers in around Sylvie and bent for a good-night kiss.

  But before her lips touched her daughter’s smooth forehead, Sylvie said solemnly, “Mommy, I know you don’t like to talk about Darius. But don’t you think he might be lonely without us? Friends need to tell each other to have a Merry Christmas.”