She laughed before busying herself with a pot of coffee. “Have you heard from Todd?” It always amazed me that she could carry on a conversation without losing count of how many scoops of coffee she had put in the pot.But I guessed that was how moms worked. In the most mysterious and loving ways, they always knew how to figure things out, even when you had no clue.
“Yep. He landed earlier. He was on his way to his parents’ house when I was getting ready to come here.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad his flight went well.” What she wasn’t asking was how things were between the two of us, whether or not we would make it.As we listened to the water drip through the coffee, she asked, “When are you going to let him know?” as if she had actually been in my head.
I laughed because any other reaction would have been fake. “Soon enough. After the holidays, but probably as soon as he gets home. I don’t want to leave him in limbo. That’s not fair.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said with a smile on her face. Busying herhands, she poured us both some coffee. As she slid mine into my waiting hands, she said, “I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“You can say that again.” I chuckled around the rim of my mug. “But I’m trying, Mom, really I am. I just—”
“I know, baby. I get it. I really do.” There was so much compassion and love in her words, etched onto her wrinkling forehead, folded into the creases of her eyelids thatI wondered if she was capable of anything other than those two emotions.
Covering her hand with mine, I let my eyes meet hers. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
Her eyes welled with tears and as she wiped them away, she said, “Anytime, Quinny. You know I love you up to the sky.”
And before we could say anything else, the crowd had followed us into the kitchen, demanding the caffeine we were stealingaway from them. We shared a warm smile as we helped everyone get their mugs. The commotion was enough to pull me out of my low and enjoy the rest of the night.
But no matter how distracted I was right now, I knew that, despite tomorrow being filled with family and more celebrations, the low would return eventually.
Merry Christmas to me.
