number and refused to let herself cave in and unblock him—an impulse she had to override every few seconds.
“You’re quiet,” her mother said as they sat in the living room after they’d finished the ham and scalloped potatoes she’d prepared for dinner, cleaned up the dishes, and put her grandmother to bed.
Emery held a glass of wine loosely in one hand as she studied the sad little Charlie Brown Christmas tree on a table near the front window. Her mother used to do a lot of holiday decorating—always went big—but this was the only token of holiday cheer she’d bothered to put up this year. “It’s a very different Christmas.”
“My first year spending Christmas without your father since we met,” her mother said distantly.
Emery took a sip of her wine. “It’s his loss, Mom. I mean that.”
“His loss?” she echoed sardonically. “Deseret is half my age and probably thirty pounds thinner. Don’t kid yourself. He traded up.”
“That’s not true. She’s also selfish and controlling and spoiled rotten. I bet he’ll make himself miserable trying to keep her happy.”
“Regardless, I have to accept my new reality and figure out a way to soldier on.”
“You’re doing that, and it’s such an inspiration. Anybody can do the right thing when it’s easy. But you’re doing it even though it’s hard.”
A gentle smile tugged at Connie’s lips as she reached over to pat Emery’s arm. “You were the best thing to ever happen to me, and your father is partly responsible, so I guess I can’t regret marrying him.”
Emery covered her mother’s hand with her own. “You’re going to be fine.”
A buzz broke the silence—Emery’s phone. For a split second, she hoped it was Dallas—until she reminded herself that he couldn’t call because she’d blocked him.
“Who is it?” her mother asked as Emery checked.
Emery wished she didn’t have to say. “Dad. I texted him about Ethan and the confession. He’s probably calling to talk about that.” Thinking she’d get back to him later, she started to put her phone on the coffee table, but her mother stopped her.
“Emery, it’s Christmas Eve. Talk to your father. I don’t want you to miss the opportunity just because things aren’t going well between the two of us,” she said and, taking her wine, left the room.
Emery was tempted to go after her. It had to be difficult for Connie to feel like the outsider when they’d always been a family. But she wasn’t sure her father would have the opportunity to talk if she missed this call. There was no telling what he might have to do—or not do—to avoid an argument with Deseret.
So she answered.
“Just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas,” he said.
“Thank you. I hope you’re having a nice Christmas, too.”
“It would be better if your mother and I could come to some understanding and agreement, but...”
Emery felt herself stiffen. She was going to draw a boundary here, too—refuse to let him complain when her mother was trying to be so generous. “I don’t want to talk about the divorce, Dad. Please don’t put me in the middle.”
He fell silent. Then he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry,” and they were able to discuss Ethan and his confession and finish the call without getting into an argument.
After she hung up, she went to check on her mother and found Connie in bed.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Fine,” Emery replied but was grateful when her mother didn’t press her for details. Instead, they talked about what they planned to cook the following day. Then Emery said good-night and went to her own room.
She’d gotten so little sleep the night before she thought she’d nod off immediately. But that didn’t happen. She kept shifting around and adjusting the blankets, trying to get comfortable, feeling lonely and even a little frightened by all the changes in her life and what might lie ahead.
She wished she could at least talk to Dallas.
At one point, she took her phone off the charger and nearly called him—until she asked herself what it was she was hoping to say. He’d already made his choice. She needed to let him go, not continue to hope that he’d change his mind.
Still, she probably would’ve broken down, if not for the example of her mother. She missed him that badly. But if Connie could remain strong and do what was necessary to rebuild her life, so could she.
29
Christmas Day
It wasn’t even light yet when his mother, Cal and his brothers banged on Dallas’s door and then