Just like that magical Christmas when I was six, this one keeps getting better and better as the day goes.
After Seb’s sexy little performance in the pantry—there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say—I’m filled with renewed belief in myself. Confidence in the way I want, and should, be treated by my family.
So much so that when my mother pulls me aside after brunch, I’m ready.
I’m out on the balcony, sipping on ginger and lemon tea and gazing over the postcard-picture-perfect snowy scene—and reflecting on Adam’s hilariously puzzled facial expression when I presented him with a double-broken-footed, Seb-voodooed cookie. And that’s when my mom chooses to step outside.
She walks up next to me, leaning on the wooden balcony railing, and follows my gaze. In the clearing beside the cabin, Jax and Seb are chopping firewood.
Wait. Did I say I was looking at the pretty snow?
Yeah, I was lying.
Seb is glorious to watch. Every time he swings the ax, muscles rippling, face angled in concentration, another butterfly escapes my stomach and flutters into my throat. Men don’t have any business being this hot. Nobody has any business being this hot.
He splits the huge log clean in half, then wipes his brow with the sleeve of his sweater and turns to say something to a flannel-clad Jax. My brother laughs.
“He’s really something,” my mother says after a few beats of silence. “A professional athlete with a face like that. I’m sure he’s a hot commodity.”
“He is,” I say dreamily. And he’s all miney mine mine…
Well, for now.
But it’s Christmas. Those details can wait until tomorrow.
Mom crosses her arms. “So, Madelyn. What’s the catch?”
My eyes reluctantly move from Seb’s immaculate wood-cutting form to my mother. She doesn’t have a coat on, for some reason, and her lipstick is perfectly matched to her cardigan. Pearls adorn her neck and wrists, and she has heeled pumps on her feet.
She looks perfectly put-together… and poised for battle. I was beginning to wonder why she hadn’t ambushed me, but now, I see that she was picking her moment. Both Seb and Jax—my allies in this fight—are out of earshot and otherwise occupied.
“No catch,” I say lightly.
“And you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly blissfully in love and married, when not a month ago, I spoke to you on the phone and you were reeling at the thought of even looking at Adam after what you did to him?”
“What I did to him?” I choke.
“Pulling that dreadful, childish move on television, of all things.”
“Mother,” I hiss. “He humiliated me. For the entire country to see.”
“Oh, please.” She waves a hand. “If you hadn’t pushed him like you did, the whole thing with that stupid girl would’ve been a brief affair that passed in a breath, and you would’ve been the woman with the ring on your finger.”
I stare at her.
At first glance, she looks intimidating. A force to be reckoned with.
But my new perspective is allowing me to see past this for the first time in a while. Maybe ever. Now, I can see where her lipstick bleeds into the lines around her mouth. Where her stockings have a snag on the ankle. Where her powder hasn’t fully covered the capillaries on her cheek.
My mother is deeply unhappy. She’s stayed in a loveless marriage for years, just for the sake of appearances, and is choosing to have Christmas with her daughter’s ex-boyfriend’s family for the same reason… watching Elizabeth sit in my old place at the table.
It’s a place I don’t want anymore, but my mother wants so desperately, she’ll cling to it until her hands are cold and lifeless.
I feel sorry for my mother, I realize.
“Does Dad cheat on you?” I ask softly, asking aloud for the first time something that I’m sure I’ve known, deep down, for a very long time. “Is that why you’re justifying Adam cheating on me?”
Her laugh is full of mirth. “Cheating,” she scoffs. “What an ugly word. I simply turn a blind eye to Richard’s wanderings, and in return, I keep my place as his wife.”
“You mean his access. Connections. Social circles.” His money.
Mom sniffs in response, and turns away like she didn’t hear me.
“Don’t you want to be in love?” I press.
‘Don’t be so naive, Maddie,” Mom says thinly, still looking in the other direction. “Love isn’t always what matters most in relationships.’
I thought I was ready for this conversation… but maybe I’ll never be truly prepared to take on my mother. Her armor is too thick, her battle skills too honed.
All I can do is shake my head. For so long, I worried about what she thought. For so long, I molded myself into what Adam wanted me to be… I hardly stopped to think about what I wanted.
My mind flashes back to Seb’s words from earlier: You deserve to be celebrated. Deserve to be praised. Deserve to have all of those people look at you and talk to you with way more respect. And I’m here to help you get everything you deserve.
I draw strength from his words, from his belief in me, and I turn to face my mother, head on. Stand up to my full height and look her dead in the eye. “Well, Mom, it seems that you and I have very different priorities in terms of what we want in relationships.”
Mom sets her jaw, seeming a little taken aback by my response. Which is fair. I can’t remember the last time I challenged her like this. “I just want to know when you’re going to stop putting on this little show with Sebastian, and start focusing on getting Adam to see that you two should be together. ”
“Adam and I shouldn’t be together. The guy cheated on your daughter, and you’re somehow defending him. I’m never going back to him, Mom. Even if that makes you upset. There’s more to life than keeping up with the Joneses—or in this case, the Plumlees—and I feel sorry for you that you don’t see that.”
Saying this feels good.
I feel empowered. Lighter. Freer.
But sadly, instead of listening to a word of my wisdom, my mother sniffs. “Well, don’t come crying to me when that hockey player breaks your heart.”
“He won’t,” I insist.
There’s a silence before Mom faces me again, an odd smile that I’ve never seen before twisting her lips. “You think I’m against you, but I’m not. I’m looking out for you. Adam’s eyes may have wandered, but he wouldn’t have left you if you’d kept your head down and appeased him. Sebastian, on the other hand? He’ll leave you when you don’t suit his fancy anymore. Don’t think I haven’t looked him up online—the man is a perpetual bachelor, married to his job. No one can change a man like that. Not even you, Madelyn.”
I try not to wince—I don’t want to give her the satisfaction—but I’m sure she can see right through me. Some of my Christmas cheer and optimism begins to fade as her words ring true. Because no matter how this all started out, it’s pretty clear now that I’ve let myself develop very real feelings for Seb.
“We’re married,” I protest, but the little voice in the back of my head—the one that only a few minutes ago was telling me not to worry about the details today—reminds me that she’s right. Once Christmas with the family is over, Seb will have upheld his end of our agreement, and once his paperwork comes through, he’ll be free to cut me loose.
Mom’s face is scornful, yet something in my reaction must get through to her, because I now see some sadness behind her eyes.
“Don’t let that rock on your finger fool you.” Her voice has softened slightly. “Men like that are all the same. The second something that suits his goals better comes along. Look at how your biological father left us.”
For the first time, in Mom’s expression, I see the truth. That however misguided and warped her advice is, she really is trying to look out for me in her own strange way. She’s been in my position: she fell for a man who walked away from her and left her alone with a child. She wouldn’t be fooled twice, which is why she settled for security over love with Jax’s dad. Why she’s turned a blind eye to his indiscretions.
Because that hurt less than falling in love and risking another heartbreak.
“Guess it’s a good thing that I’m Maddie’s husband, and not her father.” The deep voice comes from behind me, and I turn to see Seb standing by the sliding doors to the balcony, his handsome face with a slightly strained smile. “And I also guess it’s a good thing your daughter is her own person, and not you,” he finishes softly.
Mom actually has the decency to look abashed.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, abject awkwardness scraping through me at the thought of his overhearing this screwed up mother-daughter conversation.
“Long enough,” he says simply, giving me a quick look up and down—as if checking me for physical injuries—before turning back to Mom. “I’m not going to hurt Maddie,” he tells her, his voice slightly thick. “I could never hurt Maddie.”
Mom attempts another laugh, but it comes out sounding more like a cough. “You really mean that?” she taunts.
“I always say what I mean, and mean what I say.”
His words give me life. His very presence gives me life. Because once again, he’s shown up for me without me even having to say anything. He just knows.
Seb looks at Mom for a long time, unblinking and unyielding in his stance, and something must transpire between them, because eventually, Mom sucks in a breath through her nose. “Okay.”
Seb nods back at her, and then he reaches for me. “Come on, Maddie. We’ve got a holiday to celebrate.”
