Page 28 of Daigo

"I'd better not. I'm driving." Her eyes met his. "I've missed seeing you."

He nodded. "So have I." Picking up his glass, he took a sip and eyed her over the rim. "I'm glad you're here."

She perked up at that and felt the relief coursing through her. It had always been the two of them, even when her husband was alive. Now she was going to have to accept that he had his own family.

Before she could say anything else, Shelby announced that they were adjourning to the living room for coffee and Christmas pudding.

"In my case, hot chocolate," she added wryly.

The lights on the tree glowed brightly, vying with the orange, red and yellow flames from the fire blazing in the hearth. Plump colored cushions were stacked on the sofas. The gifts were heaped under the tree.

"I opened some of my presents early this morning." Shelby flashed a smile at her husband.

"She was like a kid on Christmas morning. She just ripped through the wrapping paper, like she was in a hurry," he told them dryly. He was sitting on the arm of the Barcalounger she had chosen.

"I love Christmas." Her eyes went to Yuna, who was perched on the edge of a single ladder-back chair. "Aren't you going to open your presents?"

"I never expected any. I think I'll open them when I get home." Yuna gestured toward the ones she had brought. "I want to know if you like them."

"I need no excuse. Gimme," Shelby said.

With a laugh, Tammy waved Daigo back down and went to fetch the neatly wrapped boxes.

Pursing her lips, Shelby studied the one with her name on it. "It's a shame to ruin the presentation."

"But that's not going to stop you," her husband surmised, tugging at a fat curl.

"Nope." She proceeded to rip through the paper, causing Yuna to shudder. Opening the pale pink box, she drew out an emerald-green sweater made of the softest cashmere and held it to her cheek. "It's so lovely."

"I'm glad you like it," Yuna told her with a slight smile. "I saw it and it looked just like something you would wear."

The approving look her son sent her made her heart flutter.

"Open yours," she told him, gesturing to the box.

She had bought him a collection of first-edition Keats and a lovely, sanded cigar holder.

"Too bad you're giving up that disgusting habit," his wife told him mildly.

"I have a few months yet." He rose and went over to his mother. Bending, he brushed a kiss over her cheek. "Thank you."

Tears glittered in her eyes, surprising her. "You're welcome."

He insisted on fetching the tray from the kitchen and sat back down on the arm of the chair to enjoy his coffee and pudding, content to let his wife and her friend do the entertaining.

When his mother excused herself, he waited a beat before going after her. He found her in the blue-and-white salon that his wife had made into her own little in-house garden. Flowers and herbs were heaped in pots, and pretty little cushions were piled on the window seat.

The room looked as if colors had exploded and taken up residence.

"My wife loves her colors," he murmured as he walked over to a huge urn filled with poinsettias.

"She's an unusual young woman." Yuna linked her fingers and unlinked them. Her daughter-in-law had shown her love and an openness that baffled her. In all her life, she had never met anyone like her.

"She's that." He turned to look at her. "And she's quick to forgive."

"You love her."

"More than my own life," he said simply. "She brought life and laughter into an otherwise dull and colorless world, and I cannot see myself living without it, without her."