It’s my first ever White Christmas, and some part of me believes the credit belongs to Gran. The view of the trees from the porch is spectacular. Mom and I bundle up under the blanket on the wicker couch sipping hot cocoa mixed with coffee while watching the snow fall.
It’s more ice than snow at this point, but equally as beautiful. Before I was serving coffee to the masses, gathering on the porch for morning coffee was Mom, Gran’s, and my routine. Then Mom took a second shift, Gran got sick, I got the barista job, and our routine changed. It had to. I didn’t like it. None of us did. There are times in your life where change is welcome, but this isn’t one of them. Because for the first time in months, I’m completely at peace sitting next to my mother.
“Wow,” she says, admiring our view. Stretching out a newly unwrapped off-brand Ugg, I appreciate my own view. She places a hand on my candy cane covered thigh.
“You like them?”
“I love them so much. Thank you, Santa.” I kiss her cheek.
“You know your Gran would always stand guard while I put all your stuff together. If you so much as moved in your sleep, she would come running down the hall demanding I pack up and wait. As soon as I did, we’d peek in to see you were fast asleep. Drove me insane, but she did not want you to find out about Santa.”
I grin. “Sounds like her.”
“She said not to ever ruin a kid’s magic. There’s not enough of it in the world anymore.”
“I agree.”
“But I think this is pretty magical.”
“I was thinking it could be her.”
Mom’s lips quiver. “Maybe it is.”
“I think it is, Momma,” I take her hand in mine and squeeze it.
Mom lifts a tear from beneath her eyes and nods. “Let’s not cry. Let’s smile for her today.”
“Yeah. I’m with you.”
“So, you seem happy these days.”
“I am.”
She smiles and bumps shoulders with me.
“And Theo?”
“I’m pretty sure he is too.”
“Are you safe?”
“I’ve been on birth control since I was sixteen.”
“I know but—”
“But nothing.” I quirk a brow. “When is the last time you had sex?”
“I’m serious, Laney.”
“So am I.”
“Discussion over,” my mother says, and we clink coffee mugs. A few sips later, we hear the crunch of snow.
“You expecting anyone?” Mom asks me.
“No. You?”
“Uh uh. But I have a feeling.”