caught Todd’s eye over the rim of his milk glass. “Hey, tigerbear.”
He thunked down his glass and groaned. “Mo-om.”
“Oh, sorry. I mean Sir Samuel Todd Serrat.” He was so sensitive to anything remotely childish these days. Including pet names.
“Todd would do.”
“Gotcha.”
His face brightened as he nodded toward the platter in the center of the table. “I saved ya the last roll.”
“Thanks, but I’ll catch a yogurt after my run.”
“Yogurt? Bleck!” He grabbed the lone sticky bun and grinned.
She ruffled his hair. “I’m getting in shape. It’s called exercise. You should try it sometime instead of sitting in front of your computer all the time playing video games.”
The cinnamon roll puffed out his cheeks like a chipmunk’s when he smiled. “I get plenty of exercise. Just this morning I fought off a squad of Ninja hit men, slayed two dragons and saved the world from an alien invasion.”
Even Nana laughed at that.
“Have you decided what you want for Christmas, mighty warrior?” Mia asked, and then held up her hand. “Besides computer games?”
“Christmas?” Nana asked, winking as her gaze swiveled from Mia to Todd. “Is it that time of year already?”
But Todd wasn’t biting on her feigned indifference to childhood’s mega holiday of holidays. Still, his bright eyes darkened.
“You don’t gotta get me nothing.”
“Of course we do.” Mia’s heart fluttered around in her chest like a tiny trapped bird. “It’s Christmas!”
“Christmas is for kids.” His shoulders stiffened.
“I hate to break it to you, but eight years old still qualifies as a kid in my book.”
“I said I don’t want nothing, all right.” Todd dropped the cinnamon roll on his plate, scraped his chair back and made a grab for his books as he stood.
Her hands balled on her hips. Todd had always loved Christmas. “No, it is not all right.” She scooted in front of him before he could make a break for the back door.
Lowering her arms, she took a deep breath and waited. After several long seconds, Todd slowly raised his head and looked up at her through the sheaf of dusty-blond lashes he’d inherited from his daddy.
Suddenly, Mia could have sworn she was looking into the eyes of an eighty-year-old man in her son’s body. His sad gaze wrapped around her heart and squeezed.
She’d done this. She’d put the darkness in her child’s eyes. She knew the exact day, the exact time she’d done it.
The week before Christmas two years ago, when she’d tried to kill herself.
Mia swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d put the darkness in Todd, the fear, and she would take it away, she vowed. No matter how many years, how many Christmases it took.
“You don’t gotta get me nothing,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry about it. Christmas is dumb anyway.”
Straightening up, she took a deep breath and smiled brightly on the outside even as she died a little more inside at his words.
Don’t worry about it.
It pained her, knowing her family still thought her so fragile.
“Try to think of a present that involves something we could do together, okay?” she said. “Like jigsaw puzzles or something.” Something that would reassure him that she wasn’t going anywhere. She forced a placid smile to her face. “And you’d better come up with something soon, or you might just get socks and underwear.”
Todd’s frail shoulders relaxed a bit. “Eww…”
Mia kissed his wrinkled nose, then pulled his coat off the hook by the back door and held it out to him. “You’d better get going. The bus will be here any minute. Be good today.”
With the heavy sigh of a child faced with seven hours of sitting still and keeping quiet—and a mother he didn’t quite trust to be here when he got home—Todd pulled on his coat.
Nana tucked his scarf in around his neck and smooched him and threw an air kiss as he tromped out the door. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” He waved without looking back.
Inside, apprehension flipped Mia’s stomach. The house was quiet. She’d barely navigated her way through one difficult conversation, and now she was more determined than ever to have another one, this time with Nana. It was time to tell Nana she was leaving, the sooner the better. If nothing else, Todd’s reaction to Christmas had reinforced how badly she needed some time alone with her son. Time to rebuild his trust in her.
First, she needed tea. She heated water in the microwave, then dunked a bag of her favorite green tea in the mug while Nana busied herself with the dishes in the sink.
“I called the property management company,” Mia said. “The one who’s been looking after the house in Malibu.” She tried for calm, confident strength in her voice, but couldn’t help but notice the little squeak at the end of the sentence. “She said they could have the utilities turned on and everything cleaned and opened up right after the first of the year.”
Nana’s shoulders stiffened. Dishes clattered. “So soon?”
“School starts on the fifth of January.”
Nana turned, the dishcloth twisted in her hands. “Put him in a new class in the middle of the year? Is that wise after all he’s been through?”
Another pang of guilt stabbed through her.
“I talked to the counselor at the elementary. She said it’s actually easier for kids to transition during the school year. They have a chance to make new friends right away instead of sitting home alone during the summer, waiting for a new term.”
Nana leaned heavily on the counter behind her. “Are you sure you’re ready? What if you…?”
Mia pulled her shoulders back. Now was not the time to question herself. “You know you can come visit us anytime, Nana.”
“It just wouldn’t be the same as having you here, under my roof.” Her eyes brimmed. “And besides, I have Citria and Karl here.”
Mia hated making Nana choose between her grandson and her daughter and brother. Nana’s roots were here. Still…
“You’d love California. It’s warm and sunny all the time. Your arthritis—”
“I couldn’t. I—I’ve lived all my life in Eternal.”
“Then we’ll come visit you, in the summer when Todd is out of
