Ella turned away slightly. “It was upsetting seeing her. I was literally shaking—”
Ella might be secretive about some of the facts in her life, but not about her emotions, Samantha thought. She shared the way she was feeling without hesitation.
“I love you, too,” Ella said. “They’re keeping her in another night. Is there any chance you could take tomorrow off, too, to be with Tab? I’m sorry. Samantha and I are going to stay another night...”
Samantha grabbed her robe and her nightdress and walked into the bathroom to give her sister some privacy.
Why was Ella worried about telling him? Michael adored Ella. Their relationship was solid.
She secured her hair on top of her head, turned on the shower and stripped off her clothes.
There was a heavy feeling inside her chest.
Envy? No. This was her sister, who she adored. She was pleased she was happy, but still...
Samantha swallowed. She was envious. She wanted to be the way Ella was. She wanted to be open about her feelings. She wanted to trust someone with her heart.
Because she didn’t want to think about that, she thought about her mother.
Why had she reached out? Was it simply because she’d had an accident and felt vulnerable? Did she want something from them?
Gayle Mitchell’s relationship with people tended to be transactional.
Samantha would have felt more comfortable had she understood what the transaction was.
Through the door she could hear Ella and Michael arguing about who loved each other the most.
Love you more...no, I love you more...
Samantha stepped into the shower and let the flow of water drown out the sound. The warmth and fragrance soothed and strengthened her. If she wanted a relationship like her sister’s, then the first thing she had to do was try and be as open and honest as her sister.
When she emerged, Ella was sitting on the bed again and her phone was next to her. Her cheeks were glowing. “Michael’s going to work from home tomorrow so we can spend another day here. I miss him, but it’s nice to have sister time.”
Samantha fastened her robe and wrapped her hair in a towel. “Next time let’s hope for better circumstances.”
“Are you done in the bathroom? I’ve been thinking—” Ella slid off the bed. “Maybe we should invite her for Christmas. She’s our mother. What if we’re being hard on her?”
“We’re being cautious, which is sensible.”
“But she did have it tough.” Ella paused, her fingers on the buttons of her dress. “I mean our father died, and we were so little—”
“And that was sad, yes, but it happens to people and they somehow manage to move on.”
“Now that I have Tab, I sometimes think about it.”
Samantha eased the towel off her head. She was only ten months older than her sister, but it felt like a decade. Her sister looked so young it was hard to remember that she was the mother of an almost-five-year-old. “Think about what?”
“How I’d feel if I lost Michael. If it was just me, caring for Tab by myself. Making all the decisions alone.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I don’t know. I just—Do you ever wonder what she was like before?”
“Before?”
“Before he died.”
“No. Do you?”
“Yes.” Ella hung up her dress. “Because big life events can change a person, can’t they?”
“I guess.”
“And if one big life event can change a person, then so can another.”
“Are you suggesting that the accident has somehow changed our mother from ambitious robot, to warm, caring maternal human? Because she had a bang on the head, not a personality transplant. Remember last time? You were devastated.”
“I know. But I was pregnant and emotionally unbalanced. I might have overreacted.”
Samantha didn’t want to think that, because if it was true then it meant she’d overreacted, too. “Did she ever reach out and apologize?”
“She just reached out. And because she did that, I think we should give her a chance.”
“Dinner.” Samantha took off her robe. “We’ll give her the chance to have dinner with us. And forget Christmas. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” Samantha frowned. “Are you going to take that shower before the pizza comes?”
Ella was staring at her. “Wow. Is that what you wear to bed?”
“Yes. Why?”
“And Kyle let you break up with him?”
“Kyle didn’t have a choice. Also, he has never seen me in this. It’s what I wear when I’m alone.”
“You wear a sexy nightdress when you’re alone? With no one to see it?”
“I see it.” Samantha draped her wet towel over the rail and scooped her hair up.