A Warm Heart in Winter, page 30
No garland. But their mother had never liked garland.
“It’s not a live one,” their mom said. “Without your father to help—well, this was what I could handle. But I think it’s pretty, non?”
Terrie raced over and skidded on her knees on the carpet. “There are presents! This one is for me!”
Elle narrowed her eyes on their mother as the door to the apartment shut by itself. “What’s going on?”
Before their mom could answer, the timer in the kitchen went off. “Excuse me.”
Elle looked around again, and wondered if the Upside Down hadn’t showed up in Caldwell . . . especially as, through the open door to the bedroom, she saw a freshly vacuumed carpet, and a bed that was made, and a sprig of holly in a little vase on the bedside table.
“Girls, wash your hands, please.”
Elle snapped to it without any argument—Terrie, too—because that tone of voice was one she’d spent her childhood respecting. And as she traded off the bar of soap at the kitchen sink with her sister, she tried to remember the last time she’d heard that kind of command.
And look, the table was set for three.
The next thing Elle knew, they were seated together and holding hands, the prayer done in French. And then their mother was serving them from the glass pan in the center of the little table.
“I love this lasagna!” Terrie exclaimed as she accepted her plate.
“Two or one piece?” their mom asked Elle.
Elle looked down at the melted cheese and the perfect layers. “Two. Please.”
Their mother even put a piece on her own plate.
As Elle took a test taste, she closed her eyes because they had started to water. It was exactly right, the sauce, the cheese, the noodles. And this . . . was exactly right, too, the three of them together, just like old times.
“So I’m going back to school,” their mom announced.
“You are?” Elle said as she flipped her lids back up.
“If I work hard, I should finish my psychology degree two summers from now. And then I want to get a master’s in social work.”
“I think that would be amazing, Mom,” Terrie said. “I want to be a therapist, too.”
“I’d love to talk to you about everything I learn,” their mom said.
“I want to help people.”
With your mouth? Elle thought. You’d have better luck being a drill sergeant in the Marines.
“So tell me how school is going for you both.” Their mom flushed. “I’m afraid I haven’t been asking about it enough. I’m afraid I haven’t . . . been present enough. But that’s all going to change from here on out.”
There was a pause. And then Terrie dropped her fork loudly on her plate and launched herself at their mother. Anna Sophia embraced the girl, and then settled her in her lap. As she stroked Terrie’s back and murmured things that were too soft to hear, Elle looked out the window.
The blinds were pulled up, the view one of the parking lot and the shallow ring of trees behind the building.
Confusion warred with a treacherous hope as Elle breathed deep and smelled anew the dinner that had been made specially for her and her sister.
And that was when she saw the tow truck.
It was red and white, the name “Murphy’s” written on the driver-side door. As she stared at it, a memory trembled underneath the surface of her consciousness, something that—
From out of nowhere, a headache lit off, and Elle frowned and rubbed her temples.
She had the strangest sense that she had seen the truck before, that it had done something for her, that the night she had taken her father’s car without permission, a tow guy had—
“Are you okay?” her mother asked over Terrie’s head.
Elle came back to the present. As she focused on what was on her plate, the pounding ache in her skull immediately let up.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just . . . I’m good. Just really hungry.”
She glanced out at the parking lot again. The tow truck was gone.
What did it matter, she thought. She had other things to worry about.
“Are you okay?” she asked her mom. “I mean, are you . . . really okay here?”
The smile that hit her mom’s face was sad and slow. But the answer that came back was strong and steady. “I am very okay. I have you two. And that’s all I need going forward.”
Elle felt her eyes water. “I’ve missed you.”
Their mom leaned forward and put her hand on Elle’s. “I’m missed you, too. And I’m not leaving you ever again, okay? I’m sorry about where I went, but I’m back now.”
In a child’s voice, Elle whispered, “What . . . what made you return.”
Their mom squeezed Elle’s palm. “Only the most powerful thing in all the world.”
“What’s that?”
“Love.” Their mom smiled deeply. “What else could it be?”
Elle blinked quickly. Then she took a deep breath, filled up her fork, and took a bite. As the familiar taste bloomed in her mouth, and her mother continued to stare into her eyes with the kind of levelness that had previously been a hallmark . . . Elle found herself nodding.
“Love and lasagna,” she agreed. “Are everything.”
If you, or anybody you know, is suffering from suicidal thoughts, or if you have been affected by suicide and need help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 116 123
Learn about the warning signs, prevention, and other resources here:
www.samaritans.org
With so many thanks to the readers of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books! This has been, and continues to be, a long, marvelous, exciting journey, and I can’t wait to see what happens next in this world we all love. I’d also like to thank Meg Ruley, Rebecca Scherer, and everyone at JRA, and Hannah Bratten, Andrew Nguyen, Jennifer Bergstrom, Jennifer Long, and the entire family at Gallery Books and Simon & Schuster.
To Team Waud, I love you all. Truly. And as always, everything I do is with love to, and adoration for, both my family of origin and of adoption.
Oh, and with all my gratitude to Naamah, my Writer Dog II, who works as hard as I do on my books, and to the Archiball!
Ward, J. R., A Warm Heart in Winter
