Chapter 37

No go.

“I could call the hotel,” I said, “or I could just wait and see if he shows up later.”

“I always liked him.” My mother smiled again before putting more Brussel sprouts onto my plate.

“You did? And I didn’t ask for those, by the way, so I don’t have to eat them.”

She gave me three more. “Angel was a good influence on you—when you weren’t being a bad one on him.” The smile offered with that declaration seemed both nostalgic and real. In fact, it was the most relaxed and happy I’d seen Mom in a while, way more so than even a few days prior. Christmas melodies in the background—just piano, very soothing—the good china, more decorations added to what I had put up, including some really pretty shimmery garland in silver and gold around the light fixture over the dining room table—Mom really had the Christmas spirit this year.