Page 48 of The Price of Protection

“You always ate too many cookies and made yourself sick,” Mike said. “Especially when you were pregnant with Maxine, remember?”

Rose groaned. “I was always sick, yes. Sometimes sugar sounded absolutely divine, and other times, it turned on me.”

“Aw.” Willow smiled at Rose, her cheeks red. Maxine looked vaguely embarrassed, but she grinned, too.

Rose fought her sudden instinct to stop everything and thank every one of these people for being here, for being in her life and loving her so well. There was no reason to break up the flow of conversation for such a performance. Instead, she laughed at Mike and reminded him of another funny story from when she’d first asked him to put Maxine to bed at night.

“Here we go,” Mike said, cackling. “This is a story of my incompetence.”

“It’s also a story about how manipulative all daughters are with their fathers,” Rose said. “That’s sort of what Ralph’s story was about, too, right?”

“That’s exactly it,” Ralph said. “You hit the nail on the head.”

For hours, they ate, told stories, and communed in a way that felt so beautiful and alive. The food disappeared from the trays, and bellies were filled, and wine bottles were cleared. Already, Ralph was becoming a fast friend of the family, and it boggled Rose’s mind to fathom that he was, in actuality, Eleanor Pike’s cousin. They were nothing alike.

Later, as they crowded around the living room, sipping wine and eating pie, Rose asked Ralph if he had any plans to stop by Eleanor Pike’s place before he left the island.

Ralph’s smile faltered. “You know, my mother would have loved me to go over there,” he said. “But I think too much has happened. There were too many mistakes on all sides. Willow’s my family, much more than Eleanor Pike ever was. And while, from the sounds of it, I have respect for Eleanor and all she does here on the island, I don’t know if my respect is entirely comfortable. To put it simply, she isn’t the kind of woman I’d like to share tea with.”

Rose thought that was a very political answer.

To Rose’s surprise, Mike decided to wash the greasiest dishes, the ones that couldn’t go into the dishwasher. Rhett sidled up and scrubbed the counters, playing music on the little radio in the corner. By the end of the session, Rhett, Mike, Maxine, and Willow were all in the kitchen, singing The Eagles' songs at the top of their lungs. Eventually, Clara and Ralph came in to see what all the fuss was about. Soon, they were singing along with them.

When the day was through, more than eight inches of snow lined the sidewalks outside, which meant that most everybody couldn’t drive their way out of there. Luckily, Mike, Clara, and Maxine could walk back to Mike’s place, and Ralph could return to his bed-and-breakfast. Rhett was at Rose’s place anyway, so he made himself at home, built a fire in the fireplace, and asked Willow if she wanted hot chocolate or a little more wine. Willow tugged on a sweater and seemed to consider if she wanted to stay or leave Rose and Rhett for the night.

Looking at her daughter’s face, so much like her own, Rose realized this was Willow’s first Thanksgiving without her adoptive mother. “We should have a toast to Donna,” Rose said then. Her heart reached out to the woman watching over them.

Willow agreed.

Together, the three of them raised their glasses. Rose fell into a whisper, saying, “I can’t thank you enough for raising Willow to be the woman she is today. I never could have managed it. You know, I was in a sorry state. I needed to grow up first. But I’ll never forget your kindness and love, Donna. Thank you.”

Willow closed her eyes so tightly that tears spilled from either side. “I miss you, Mom,” she breathed. “I know you have all your memories back. I hope you know that in each of those memories, I loved you, and that every day for the rest of my life, I’ll miss you. Thank you for everything.”

As the fire crackled in the fireplace, and as Rhett slowly crept upstairs to change into a pair of flannel pajamas, Rose and Willow held one another, their hearts filled with love. It had been a year of treacherous changes, of fear and searching and loneliness. But all that was over now. And Christmas was coming up soon.