Ella shook her head. “I don’t get it,” she said. “Look at this—” She swept her hand around the room.
“I’m looking.”
“I mean—did you have the faintest clue she was capable of this?”
“No. Why would I?” Their mother had never done anything like this for them.
“I didn’t realize she even knew what a Christmas tree was.”
“Mmm. And that reindeer. Did you ever see a more frivolous, useless, extravagant—”
“—gorgeous gift,” Ella said. “Adorable. And no, I didn’t.” She turned to Michael. “This is not our mother. She gave us useful gifts. Gifts with purpose, designed to promote advancement in some way.”
“Well, she’s clearly doing better in that direction.” Michael tried to be tactful.
Ella was looking at Michael. “But why? Why now?”
“Because she wants us to spend Christmas together.” Samantha touched the decoration nearest to her, noticing that it still had a tiny price tag on it. “And she knows that the only way to make that happen is through her granddaughter. That’s why she’s making an effort.” Her mother had done all this for Tab.
Michael considered. “Even if that’s true, does it matter?”
Samantha peeled the price tag off the decoration and rolled it between her fingers. “Perhaps it doesn’t. Except that there is no way she’ll be able to keep it up. What happens then?” She felt a wave of protectiveness as she thought of her niece. There were no words to describe her love for her niece. She wasn’t going to let her be hurt. “I’ll check on Tab.”
She wandered into the kitchen and found her icing gingerbread men.
“Here, Aunty Sam—” Tab thrust one toward her, icing dripping in tiny blobs onto the table. “Try it.”
Samantha dutifully took a large bite. “Delicious.” And it really was delicious. “Where did you buy these, Mom?” Maybe she should buy a boxful for the office. She knew her team would love them.
“I didn’t.” Gayle put a large plate in front of Tab. “I made them.”
Samantha caught a piece of gingerbread as it fell from her mouth. “You? You actually baked these yourself?”
“I did. I’m a little rusty, but they seem to have turned out all right.”
Rusty? Rusty implied that you used to do something, but then stopped doing it.
Samantha dissected her memory bank, trying to find a time when her mother had baked with them, or even for them, but she came up blank.
Tab seemed to be eating as much as she was icing, and there was as much icing on the table and the floor as there was on the gingerbread men.
Knowing what a neat freak her mother was, Samantha waited for her to say something or at least grab a cloth and start wiping up the mess, but she didn’t.
Samantha reached for a knife and scraped up one of the pools of icing.
Tab added chocolate eyes to a gingerbread man. “Sometimes I bake with Mommy. Did you bake with your mommy?”
There was a long silence.
“Yes,” Gayle said. “Yes, I did.”
Samantha dropped the knife on the floor.
“What was your best thing to cook?” Tab added a third eye to the gingerbread man. “Mine is cupcakes.”
“I made gingerbread men. Just like these.”
With her mother. Samantha’s grandmother.
Samantha couldn’t have been more shocked if her mother had suddenly stripped naked and danced around the kitchen.
All she knew about her mother’s parents was that they’d died when Gayle was in her first year of college. Ella had once found a photo of their mother with her parents, but her questions had quickly been shut down and the photo had never been seen again.
Tab was focused on the task in hand. “I’d like to make these with you, not just decorate them.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged.” Gayle studied Tab’s gingerbread man. “You’ve done a great job. Well done. Although you’ve given that one three eyes.”
“I thought he’d be able to see better with more eyes.”
“It’s an interesting modification.” Gayle mixed more icing, to replace the mound that had landed on the floor. “Different color or the same color?”
“I want to give him a red hat.”
“Then let’s give him a red hat. Samantha—” Gayle glanced up “—the red food coloring is in the cupboard. Top shelf. Would you mind? Samantha?”
Samantha responded like a robot, retrieving the food coloring and handing it to her mother.
“You should probably do this part.” Gayle handed the bottle to Tab who took it without hesitation.
Samantha relaxed a little. That was more like her mother. Making someone do something themselves. If I do it for you, Samantha,