Brooke glanced toward the kitchen. “Where’s Cole?”
“He went into town for some supplies. We’re supposed to get more snow tonight. I’m relieved you got here when you did.”
“I am so excited to be here. You can’t imagine how much.”
“I think I can,” I said. “I’ve missed you and have been counting the days.”
“Me too.”
I inspected her closely for any damage since I’d last seen her in September. She looked no worse for wear. Her skin glowed pink from the cold. Her exquisite cheekbones might be a little more prominent. She had on a pair of jeans that seemed a little loose. “You look gorgeous,” I said, “if not a little thinner. Are you eating?”
“Yes, Mom. I’ve been running a lot. That’s all.” A shy smile crept over her face. “And I have a new special someone in my life.”
“You do?”
“I’m in love.”
“All right, well, I want to hear everything.” I shivered and gestured toward the great room. “It’s cold. Let’s go sit in front of the fire. I’ll put the kettle on.” In love? I didn’t know if I liked this. She was too young. Her heart might get broken.
“Yes, about that—Steven—that’s his name. He’s British and loves his tea.” She tugged off her hat and held it in front of her like a peace offering. “Mom, here’s the thing…he’s kind of like driving here right now.”
What? Had I heard her correctly? “You invited him for Christmas?”
“We couldn’t stand the thought of being apart for two whole weeks. You don’t mind, do you?” She clasped her hands together. “I should’ve asked, but I got carried away last night and told him to just drive out here and join us. Please say it’s all right.”
“It’s all right. I’m just surprised.” I smiled to hide my alarm and held out my hand to take her hat. “Give me that. I’ll put it with your coat.”
We headed toward the kitchen. I set the kettle on the stove. British. What if he had to go back to England and took my little girl with him? “Is he an exchange student?”
“Yes.” She sat at the island and seemed to take great interest in the pattern of the granite. “But don’t worry. I won’t move to England. He loves America.”
“But won’t he have to go back at the end of the semester?”
“Not if we get married.”
Light-headed, I placed both hands on the island. “Married?”
She grinned and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Famous last words.
On Christmas Eve, Cole grinned as he looked up from carving the roast. “My mouth’s watering. This is cooked perfectly.”
I smiled back at him. “For what it cost, it would have been a shame had I overcooked it.” I was across the island from him putting the last dab of butter on our mashed potatoes.
“You did good,” Joseph said to me. Dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater with penguins on the front, he opened a bottle of wine from the other end of the kitchen. “This is a mighty fine meal if I ever did see one.”
“Thanks for bringing the wine, man,” Cole said to Joseph.
“Son, it was the least I could do,” Joseph said.
I smiled to myself, knowing what a thrill it gave Cole every time Joseph called him son. Over the last six months, they’d grown close. I guess it doesn’t matter how old one gets. We always want the approval and love of a parent.
My mother and Brooke were in the dining room putting out the rest of the side dishes. I could hear the murmur of their voices as they discussed where to put what.
Joseph pulled the cork out of a bottle of cabernet, then headed to the dining room. The scent of the rich wine mixed with butter and garlic filled my nose as he passed by me.
Next to me, Steven plucked hot homemade rolls from a baking dish into a basket. I had to admit, the boy was beautiful. Dark-skinned with even features and startling green eyes, he had only to look Brooke’s direction to make her smile. I’d never seen her smitten like this, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. My baby was all grown up and probably going to end up in England with this special young man.
He’d told us his father and mother had been an interracial couple who died when he was small. After that, he was shipped off to a grandmother who did her best to raise a spirited little boy in the English countryside. Perhaps sensing my gaze, he glanced over at me. “Am I doing it right, Mrs. Paisley?” The English accent only added to his charm.
Mrs. Paisley. I still did a double take when anyone called me by my new name. Yes, it had taken thirty years before the doodles on my school folder had come true, but here I was at last. Mrs. Paisley. “Looks good to me.”
“Again, thanks for letting me stay,” he said to Cole and me. “I couldn’t face the holidays without my mam.”
He’d also shared with us that he’d lost his grandmother last year. “I’m officially an orphan,” he’d said that first night at dinner. He’d smiled, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. Like my Cole, he craved family.
“We’re glad you’re here,” Cole said.
“Brooke told me you’re worried I’m going to take her back to England,” Steven said. “But there’s nothing for me there. She’s all I want.”
“I worry,” I said. “That’s what mothers do.”
“I’m kind of in love with Logan Bend too,” Steven said. “We were talking last night about maybe coming to live here after we graduate. If you gave your permission for us to marry, that is.”
“You don’t need our permission,” I said.
“Although it’s nice
