“I promise it will be nice,” Mom implores.
“I don’t want to be around Sylvie,” I repeat. “And I don’t trust you two not to try and force some kind of reconciliation between us.”
“We promise not to do that.” Dad clears his throat. “We almost lost you, Dandy. We want you home for the holidays. Please.”
I look at Ripley.
“It’s up to you,” is all he says. “We can cook on Friday and still have your friends over.”
“I’ll think about it, but don’t push it.”
Both my parents agree to back off, but I know they will ask me about it every day.
“And what about your birthday and Christmas?”
“Her birthday is up to me,” my husband speaks up.
“All I want is a nice dinner, either here or at Paulene’s.” Ripley nods in understanding.
“Does that include us?” my mom asks.
“If Eden wants you there,” Rip snaps.
“Yes, I want you at my birthday dinner.”
They both exhale in relief.
“We’ll be here for Christmas, but we’re going out of town for a few days afterwards.”
“What?” Mom looks around. “I don’t think you should be traveling, honey.”
“We’re only going to New York City for a quick honeymoon. We’re going,” I say firmly. “But our first Christmas together will be here.” I gesture around the house.
“You’re not going to Grandma’s on Christmas Eve?” Mom asks. “She likes Ripley.”
“Ripley is not the reason I’m staying away,” I snap. “Stop blaming him for everything.” Rip rubs between my shoulders, and I sigh. “And what is the point of Christmas when I’m not even allowed to be around the kids?”
“Well, those kids live in our house and you’re welcome there whenever the hell you want,” Dad snaps back. “And that nonsense about her not wanting you around the kids is over.”
“Sylvie doesn’t feel that way anymore,” Mom quickly explains. “I want to celebrate Christmas with you and Ripley.”
I roll my eyes, but I do love Christmas with my parents. They decorate the house, and after we open presents, Dad makes a decadent breakfast.
Ripley leans close to my ear and whispers, “I ordered something for the kids, and I want to be there when they see it.”
That’s all he says. I know he’s only doing this for me.
“We’ll come by on Christmas Day for a few minutes,” I announce. “I can’t commit to Christmas Eve yet.”
“One more thing,” Mom says. “We would love it if you let me and your father throw you a wedding.”
I look around the table, horrified at the thought.
“We can do it this summer in our garden or wherever you want. Nothing big, but we can get Cori to make you a dress. I’d love to throw you a bridal shower, and your dad wants to walk you down the aisle.”
“Mom, thanks, but no. I want a marriage, not a wedding. And you were dramatic enough the first time.” At one point, Dad had to wipe the snot from her nose because she was crying so hard. “You two can’t stand my husband. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”
“However we feel about him, we’ll have to get over it,” Mom practically snaps. “We all love you. That’s what’s important. You haven’t lived close by in ten years, and I’m happy to have you back.” She touches my hand. “Just think about it. That’s all I ask.”
