Tanya Michaels - Mistletoe Mommy

The doctor waved his hand. “Not at all. I had a teenage daughter once myself. Gets easier after their twenty-first birthday,” he whispered conspiratorially.

How lovely, Adam thought. Now he had something to look forward to-nine more years of hell. Of course, in nine years, Morgan would be a teenager. He groaned.

Once the Kimboroughs had departed, Geoff stood. “Way to go, Dad.”

Adam squeezed his eyes shut. “Son, I could do without the sarcasm right now.”

“No, I was being sincere. Way to go, congratulations. You normally tiptoe around Eliza, letting her act however she wants. Mom would never have put up with that.”

“Oh.” He processed this. “Good to know. I guess.”

He’d never meant to give the impression that Eliza could do whatever she wanted without consequences. Although to be fair, most of her transgressions were of the mere eye-rolling kind; it wasn’t as if she’d been sneaking cigarettes outside the lodge or boosting cars on Main Street.

It was strangely bolstering that Geoff thought he was acting like a real parent now. On par with Sara. Did that mean Adam was making progress, even though one of his children was currently not speaking to him? Some parts of this parenting gig were less fun than others.

When five minutes had passed, Geoff glanced at Eliza’s untouched pretzel. “Can I have it?”

Adam answered with a quelling look. Another few minutes ticked by. “Morgan, pumpkin, would you mind going into the restroom and asking your sister if she could please join the rest of us?”

“She’s gonna yell at me,” Morgan predicted.

“If she does, I promise I will deal with that.”

Morgan disappeared into the women’s room, and a moment later returned with a subdued and tearstained older sister.

“Daddy?” Morgan ventured. “It’s okay with me if we leave now. I wanna see Ellie, anyway.”

Accepting defeat, he carried Morgan’s plastic bucket of blueberries so that she could have both hands for her drink while they walked toward the exit.

“We should give some of these berries to Brenna,” Geoff said. When Adam had noted earlier that Geoff had stopped calling her Ms. Pierce, his son had joked that it was because they were “practically co-workers” now: “I helped her prepare for taxes next quarter. Check me, I’m like an accountant.”

“That’s a nice idea,” Adam said. “And don’t forget, Lydia at the lodge said that if you bring her enough berries, she’ll make sure you guys get blueberry pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.”

Halfway to Brenna’s house, Adam realized Eliza hadn’t said a word the entire time. His first assumption was that she was giving him the silent treatment, but when he noticed the way she’d cradled her arms against her abdomen, his conscience plagued him. She had complained she wasn’t feeling well, but it had been a nonspecific gripe on the heels of him asking about her ornery mood, so he hadn’t lent it much credence.

As they drove down Brenna’s street, Morgan remarked, “No car in the driveway.”

Adam had already noticed this and was doing his level best not to broadcast his disappointment. You’ll see her Tuesday. That was only two nights from now.

He parked in the driveway and everyone hopped out. Zoe met them at the fence, wagging her tail so hard her body shook. They went inside, and Adam tried not to notice the sheer Brenna-ness of the place. The faint, lingering scent of her body lotion, a book she’d been reading left facedown on an end table. He stole a peek at the title and smiled-he enjoyed that particular series, too. Considering the slightly dusty book jacket, she’d probably started this one before her summer schedule ramped up into high gear.

Morgan ran down the hall, already talking to Ellie in that slightly higher-than-normal voice she used with animals. He resolved that he was giving the kids ten minutes, fifteen tops, before they left for Chattavista. There would be no dawdling in the hopes of catching Brenna as she came through the door.

Geoff disappeared into Brenna’s office; he hadn’t quite finished the odd jobs she’d given him the other day, and she’d told him that she’d pay him for any time he put in, whether she was here or not. Whenever he talked about doing one of the errands she’d assigned, he swelled with pride. Adam made a mental note to revisit the employment issue with Sara. He understood why she’d initially told Geoff that he couldn’t have a job on top of school, but if Geoff could keep his grades up, maybe it was time to change that.

It dawned on Adam that, in the past couple of years, he’d been far too passive. He’d felt guilty over not being there, so he defaulted to Sara’s opinion on everything as if he didn’t have a right to disagree with her. Though he wouldn’t undermine her by arguing a point in front of the kids, it was time he gave more thought to their lives and offered real input, not just financial support.

Since the television remote was on the coffee table, he flipped on the TV and went to one of those all-news channels. He wasn’t sure when exactly Eliza ducked out of the kitty den, but a bit later, Geoff and Morgan both appeared in front of him.

“I finished everything Brenna laid out for me,” Geoff said with satisfaction.

“I’m still playing with Ellie, but you said fifteen minutes,” Morgan reminded him. “It’s been fifteen.”

Already? In spite of himself, Adam’s gaze went to the window and the driveway beyond. “Where’s your sister?”

Geoff gave an exaggerated shrug, accompanied by a “women” eye roll. “Bathroom. Again.”

“Something’s wrong with her,” Morgan declared, her gamine face puckered with worry.

Adam was starting to agree. “Why don’t you guys go out in the yard and play with Zoe? I’ll take care of Eliza.”

After they’d done as suggested, he knocked lightly on the bathroom door. Unless he was mistaken, there was sniffling coming inside. “Eliza, honey? Are you okay?”

“No!” More pronounced sniffling. Then she muttered something too low to hear followed by an emphatic, “I want Mom!”

“I know you and your mother are a lot closer than you and I have been lately, but I want to change that.” He sat on the floor, feeling a bit stupid for baring his soul to a doorknob. “You can talk to me about anything, I promise.”

“Not about this!” She sounded horrified, and her voice cracked. He felt powerless with his little girl crying on the other side of a locked door. “Could you please just get Mom on the phone?”

Then it clicked. The likely reason she’d been so cranky and on the verge of tears, the way she’d been holding her stomach as if in pain. “Oh, honey. Are you-?”

“I don’t want to talk to you about it! I’d die of humiliation.”

Forget that he was specially trained in the workings of the human body; for this, a girl needed her mother. “Be right back!”

He returned to the living room and dialed Sara’s cell number, although it took him several tries to get it right. Why were his hands shaking? This was a natural biological process that all females went through. Yes, but she’s only…twelve.

How had twelve years passed already? He vividly remembered the day she was born, so much tinier than Geoff had been, how she’d seemed so fragile in Adam’s hands that he’d been scared he might hurt her. Then she’d screwed up her reddened face, opened her mouth and let loose with a yowl that had made the nurse and an exhausted Sara cringe but Adam laugh. He’d known then that something that could make such a ferocious noise wasn’t as frail as she looked.

Over the phone, his ex-wife’s recorded voice instructed him to leave a message.

“Sara? Oh, Sara, I wish you’d picked up! Look, it’s not an emergency per se-kids are fine-but call as soon as you get this, okay? Anytime day or night! Anytime.”

It wasn’t until he disconnected that he realized he was panicking. He could have just told Sara what the issue was, but he was having trouble wrapping his mind around it. Preoccupied with the situation and what he should say to Eliza, he missed both the car outside and the steps on the porch. He jumped in surprise when the front door swung open and Brenna entered the living room.

“Oh, thank God, a woman!” He darted forward and took hold of her hand.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, you get points for enthusiasm. Although you might want to practice being more discerning than that.”

“We’re having a crisis.” He dropped her hand, abashed. What had he been planning to do, drag her bodily down the hall and dump everything in her lap? “A, erm, female crisis.” He sounded more like a socially awkward seventh grader than a medical professional.

He tried again. “Apparently Eliza is…she’s started-”

“Oh!” Brenna clucked her tongue. “Poor baby. You want me to go talk to her?”

“Please.” He felt almost light-headed with relief.

Sitting on the couch, he listened as Brenna approached the closed door. Please don’t push her away, he silently advised Eliza. He knew she’d rather have Sara right now, understandably so, but he hoped that his daughter wouldn’t distance herself from others at her own expense.

After a moment, the door opened, and he heard the soft background murmur of female voices. And a few seconds later, Brenna returned, palming her keys.

“Eliza and I are going for a little shopping excursion. I can take her back to the lodge when we’re finished. Why don’t we just meet you there?”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

She flashed him a cheeky smile. “You can try. Tuesday night.”

“Thank you,” Eliza mumbled as they left the drugstore. “That was embarrassing, but it would have been worse with my dad.”

“You’re welcome. I realize that kids-young women,” she amended, unlocking the car doors, “probably hate it when adults say this, but I know how you feel. My mom wasn’t around for my first period, either.”