He pulled up Amy’s number and wondered if he should call her. No, he’d call her later. Her art show was tomorrow and he didn’t want to add any pressure. Also, right now, he needed to get a flight to Texas.
30
The art contest was set for early Christmas Eve afternoon, followed by a reception during which people could shop for last-minute gifts. It had snowed the night before, but Amy’s entire family and the Bossy Posse and their families were at the Christmas festival, crowding into the gallery to hear the results of the vote. Amy’s parents came together, which she considered a significant sign of progress. She’d run into June at the grocery store, who said that Amy’s father was spending less time in the recliner and more time with Mom. June said also that her mother was trying to be less demanding of him. “But you know Barb,” she’d said with a grin.
Amy knew her, all right.
June further disclosed that her parents were thinking of getting a lake house for themselves. When Amy phoned her mother later, she asked about the rumors June was spreading.
“Are you seriously thinking of getting a lake house?”
“We’ve discussed it,” her mother said.
“Just like that? You went from thinking you were going to leave Dad to deciding maybe instead you’ll invest in a lake house?”
“Amy,” her mother said patiently. “Someday you will learn that as youget older, you often don’t know what you need. You just know you needsomething. It may take a little longer to figure it out, that’s all.”
“So what did you need?” Amy asked curiously.
“I don’t know,” her mother admitted. “Something.”
Amy’s boss and a few of the guys from work came, because they’d heard there was free food and drink. Also in attendance: the gallery owner, of course. Amy’s friend Gabriella, who had suggested she enter the contest. Mayor Kelly Hodges, whose name was plastered on all the Christmas festival signs. And lots of townspeople, wanting to get out of the bitter cold that had descended last night on the last day of festival shopping.
For the first half hour, the artists stood by their creations. Amy was proud of what she’d done, but she did have to explain the Bossy Posse to several people.
“How did you find the experience?” one woman asked her. “I’ve thought about entering, but I never find the time to create.”
“That was my problem, too,” Amy said. “Which was why this was so great for me. If nothing else, I’ve learned that I really need to make time for myself.” The admission popped right out of her mouth, surprising her. She’d had that thought, but she hadn’t realized it was so front and center in her mind.
“That’s what they say,” the woman said. “Take care of yourself so you can take care of those around you.”
“Exactly.” Amy glanced at her paintings. The old adages one learned as a child were adages for a reason, she guessed. But she was pleased that she’d come out of the experience with at least that understanding.
Julie came, too, dressed in sequins. She looked around the gallery, dismayed by the jeans and puffy coats. “I thought this was an art show party.”
“Yeah, but not a fancy one,” Amy said, laughing at her friend. “It’s Willow Valley.”
“What was I thinking? Well anyway, I can’t stay long,” Julie said, just as she kissed Amy’s cheek like a true cosmopolitan. “I’m going to a party.”
“What about your family?” Amy asked. “What about the party at Carol’s?”
Julie shrugged. “I’m talking about Carol’s party. And I’ll be with my family tomorrow at the lake. Sam has added some new music, she said, and my mother is determined to fry a turkey.”
“Beware the nutcracker guards,” Amy warned her. “They fall down a lot.”
The last to arrive were Ethan and Jonah, along with Ryan. Her boys brought her flowers. “That was my idea,” Ryan said, quite unnecessarily. Amy was fully aware that her children hadn’t reached the stage of life where they thought about anyone but themselves. In true Ryan fashion, her ex-husband was still knocking on a door that was closed. Since she’d been back, he’d tried to ask her about Harrison, and when Amy was not forthcoming, he reminded her that he wanted them to be together. “For the kids,” he added.
“We’re already together when it comes to the kids,” Amy said.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” Amy conceded. “But we’re not getting back together, Ryan. Not now, not ever.”
He looked so forlorn in that moment that Amy took pity on him. “But you can come for Christmas.”
He immediately lifted his gaze. “I can?”
“You can.”
