what I needed. That was the last time I saw my mom feeling good and having fun. This group of women—we blend just right. In fact, I think my friends like hanging out with me because they love my mom and her friends.”
“That sounds fantastic. And how’s the book coming?”
“I actually like it,” she said. “I’m closing in on the ending and should be finishing up in the next week.”
“That will be such a relief, won’t it?”
“You have no idea! I think coming up here saved me in a dozen ways. Getting that book done is at the top of the list.”
“Oh? I would’ve put my money on Landry being at the top of the list,” Mel said.
“He’s right up there, that’s for sure. What a guy.”
“So, will you two be staying in touch after the holidays pass?”
“I certainly hope so,” Kaylee said. “I don’t know when or how, but I hope so. I can’t imagine not having him in my life.”
“Have you made any special plans for Christmas?” Mel asked.
“Nah,” Kaylee said. “I’m just going to let Christmas wash over me. Maybe after this year I’ll be able to consider having fun on Christmas again, but...”
“Your mom?”
“She passed away on Christmas morning,” Kaylee said. “She’d been lingering. I don’t think she was in a great deal of pain at that point, thanks to Hospice and their drugs. I don’t know if I was relieved or devastated, but she left me while I was holding her hand.” She glanced away. “I try to hold on to the sweet memories, but then I get to feeling sorry for myself...”
“I bet you have many sweet memories...”
“It was usually just the two of us for Christmas. Sometimes we’d include friends—we had a lot of friends between us. But Christmas morning it was just the two of us. I’ve been writing for a dozen years or so and our joke was that I’d work in my pajamas, so every Christmas I got a new pair. Really nice, classy, soft and beautiful pajamas. She gave me other things, too, but the pajamas... They were always a treat. And last year, after she passed, I found a box under the tree and there they were, my annual pajamas. Red and silky and perfect. I’d been so preoccupied and distracted I didn’t even notice them and I have no idea how or when she got them. She must have ordered them online. She must have had the Hospice nurse wrap them.”
“Aw, that’s so touching. I understand your feelings completely but if you decide to make plans or join us, I bet it would make your mother happy.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t want me to be all sad and depressed, but it’s kind of hard to be otherwise. That’s the day she left me. You know, she loved getting her nails done and while she was so sick that last month, the Hospice nurse would do her nails. After she had passed, I went to the kitchen to make the calls and when I went back to her bedroom, the nurse was doing her nails. It was the most tenderhearted thing I’ve ever seen.” She smiled at Mel. “I wish you could have met my mother. She was so funny and smart. You would have loved her.”
“There’s no question in my mind,” Mel said. Then Mel’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me a second, Kaylee,” she said. Then she answered the phone. “Hey there, Marjorie, how’s it going? No, I’m afraid I haven’t made any progress and I’ve checked with everyone I know. Well, I’m not going to let the child go into foster care before Christmas. We’ll make room for her if we need to, but she’s not going to be alone at Christmas. I’ll let you know if I get anywhere.”
Mel hung up the phone and rested her head in her hand for a moment, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Then she looked at Kaylee. “Sorry.”
“I take it you have a heavy load right now,” Kaylee said.
“It’s very sad. My terminal patient. She has a child. It’s not unlike what happened with your mother. She was diagnosed less than a year ago. And she will leave behind a daughter. Oh, that’s right—you met Mallory. She’s only ten and there is no father in the picture. She’s the sweetest child I’ve ever known.”
“I love Mallory! Remember our lunch? It was like a book club. Where will she go if she loses her