were the ones here before, the ones outside and in the living room. It struck me today we didn’t have anything less formal, for us as a family here, to open gifts with Thomas.”
She hugged him hard. “Thank you, it’s perfect.” Then she froze, stepping back and turning away fast to dig around in the box closest to them. She lifted the decorations out and stacked them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Did I choose those others in the main living room? They don’t seem like me.” She shot him a look. “They’re so...matchy...modern art deco rather than the smoother Renaissance palettes I gravitate toward.”
“You’re right.” And he was seeing how he’d missed the mark and wished that he’d paid more attention. “Most of the decorations came with the house. I bought the place as a gift to you.”
“You didn’t build this?” Surprise cut into her voice as she lifted the palm tree crèche out of the box. Leaning against the space between the boxes on the couch, she placed the crèche on the center shelf.
“Oh, I did. But for another family. They had everything in place, ready to move in and then they split up. I picked up the place for a song...um...not that I wouldn’t have spent a fortune for you.” A sheepish grin pulled on his cheeks. He placed a running silver reindeer on the lowest shelf behind the couch.
“I know that. Clearly.”
Was that a dig? Was she complaining about their lifestyle? He shook off the defensiveness and thought about her, her wants and preferences, and recalled how uncomfortable she’d always been with his wealth. “We always planned to redecorate and never got around to it. I should have insisted.”
“Or I should have insisted. I’m an adult. I take responsibility for decisions I made, even if I can’t remember them.” She rolled her eyes.
“Would you like to redo the whole place? Or our primary residence?”
“Primary residence? Hmmm. That still feels so...surreal. Like everything else in my life.” She toyed with a red satin bow. “I haven’t even seen our regular house in Tallahassee yet. Is it like this?”
“No, you had carte blanche there.”
“How long have we lived in that house?” She sat on the tile floor between the couch and the coffee table with the box of new tree ornaments in front of her. Each one unique and made by a local artisan. Reaching into the box she began to remove all kinds of ornaments. It was a mismatched set. She set them down, one by one, on the coffee table, eyes sharp with obvious approval.
He thought back to those early days when they’d had so much hope for their future, planning a big family, children, grandchildren, growing old together. “We had it built when we got married.”
“So we made those decisions together.”
“We did.” Kneeling, he helped her take the remaining ornaments out of the box. He lifted the first ornament they’d ever got together as newlyweds: two penguins on a snowbank holding hands. Gently, he set it next to the ornament that sported a snowman made of sand.
“I wish we’d gone to our house first.” Her fingers roved gently over top of all the decorations. It was as if she was trying to gain memories by osmosis. She stopped over a Santa Claus ornament. He was posed in a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, and he had a pink flamingo beneath his hands. A small laugh escaped her lips and she brought the Santa to the tree and hung it on a bough.
“We still can.” He brought a snowflake ornament with him and hung it slightly below hers.
“But we’re settled for now and have the follow-up appointments with Thomas’s doctor. After Christmas we can settle into a new routine.”
“It’s a lot to take in at once, both places.”
“That’s perceptive of you.”
They kept bringing ornaments to the tree, filling the boughs until they grew heavy with their collective past. He enjoyed the way that she laughed over the ornaments. The way each one was an act of discovery for her.
The evening was too good to be true.
Just as they were getting ready to put the angel on top of the tree, his mother’s laughter floated into the room a second before she entered, hanging on the arm of a man with salt-and-pepper hair.
She waved her son over. “Come here, darling. You too, Alaina.”
What the hell? Porter pushed to his feet and silently fumed. Who was this man? Didn’t his mother realize they needed a calm and quiet family holiday? Her surprise visit had already added enough additional chaos to the equation.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“I want you to meet my new friend Barry. He’s a tax attorney.”
Now that seemed right. He was as polished as she was.
Barry thrust out his hand. “Nice to meet you both. Your mom has been telling me a lot about you.” His grip was tight as he shook Porter’s hand. “Oh, you’re putting up another tree? Best part of the whole Christmas season if you ask me.”
The guy was nice enough. Smooth. But so were most attorneys. They knew how to read people and work a room. This guy was no exception.
“I feel the same way, Barry.” Alaina’s voice cut his thoughts in half.
Courtney hugged Barry’s arm closer. “I’m so glad he’s joining us for dinner tonight. It’ll be a little party.”
“Mother, I need to talk to you. Mind if I show you something?” And with that he hooked Courtney’s arm in his. Smiling tightly, he led her out of the family room and into the hallway.
He glanced back into the room to see his mother’s newest suit-of-a-boyfriend helping Alaina put the angel on the tree. Something he had wanted to do with her. Damn it. Who pushed in on someone else’s Christmas decorating?
“Mom,” he hissed softly, “did you have to bring your boyfriend over now? Alaina’s condition is delicate and we have a new baby.”
“First—” she held up a slim finger “—Alaina is stronger than you give her credit for. Second, your child is asleep. And third, he’s not my boyfriend. We just met at a local fund-raiser I was attending at the invitation of your neighbor Sage.”
How freaking perfect. Sage was up to her usual tricks. She’d probably invited his mother to glean some information about what was going on with Alaina. She’d use their struggle as gossip at the next society function.
“There’s a helluva lot going on here without adding strangers to the mix. You should have spoken to me.”
“Let me get this straight.” His mother folded her arms. “I showed up uninvited and brought my uninvited pickup. That makes you uncomfortable.”
Always the lawyer. Even out of the courtroom.
“You’re leading the witness, Mother.”
“Fair enough.” She held up both hands. “Barry and I will go out.”
He
