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  “It’s beautiful, Dad. I love it.” I beamed up at him and his face relaxed, his pained expression melting away into a genuine smile.

  “I saw it and thought of you. I know you’ve been through a lot lately with the accident and the divorce, and I thought you might like to… you know, write stuff, to help you through it.” He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “We’ve got each other. That’s all that matters now,” he said, almost talking to himself, then gestured to the journal with his chin. “There’s something else in there for you.” I flipped through the journal, and a cash card fell out from between the pages.

  “I thought you might like to go on a shopping spree with your girlfriends once you’re feeling better, maybe buy a new outfit or something. There’s some extra money on there to help you make it through the school year in case you need to buy some… um, toiletries or feminine-type stuff.” I giggled at his discomfort and he grinned sheepishly at me with a shrug of his shoulders. I hugged him close and kissed his cheek.

  “Thanks, Dad. I mean it. That was really sweet.”

  “Merry Christmas, Lindsey. I love you, baby.”

  “I love you, too.” He clicked on the television and A Muppet Christmas Carol was showing. I scooted over and he climbed onto the bed next to me where we sat together, watching the show and pretending like it was old times.

  After Dad left, I took a nap and woke to find a small package on the cart next to my bed. I stared at it in a sleepy haze and looked around the room as if expecting someone to appear and claim it. When I saw the handwriting on the note inside, I knew instantly whom it was from.

  “Lindsey, I wanted to give you this myself, but I thought you might not want to see me. I bought it for you before the accident. I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me. Merry Christmas. Love, Ravi.”

  Seeing his name pierced my heart with guilt since I hadn’t thought about Ravi at all since my memory came back. I realized with a start that he’d been in the room when that had happened.

  He probably thinks I freaked out because I remembered the accident. No wonder he thinks I don’t want to see him.

  And in a way, I didn’t, but not because of that. I couldn’t tell him about Aiden but I also couldn’t date him anymore. Still, he was probably my closest friend and I didn’t want to lose that. I was so torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to keep him close, and I knew it would hurt him no matter what I did because I couldn’t give him what he really wanted. Defeated, I unwrapped the gift. The shining silver necklace had a music note dangling from it, a tiny diamond set into the bottom of the note.

  I just stared at the necklace, wondering what on earth I was going to do. Finally, I put it on and fingered the little silver charm, running it back and forth along the chain. What could I tell him? I had no good explanation for how my feelings had changed, but they certainly had.

  Father O’Malley’s face appeared at the curtain of the room.

  “Merry Christmas, Lindsey.”

  “Thanks. You, too,” I said, surprised to see him. “But you didn’t have to come here on Christmas Day. Why aren’t you home with your family?”

  “All of God’s children are my family. And that includes you.” He pulled out a wrapped package and placed it in my lap. I grinned up at him, tickled that he’d brought me a gift. It was a beautiful new Bible with ‘Lindsey M’ engraved in gold letters on the front. He grinned mischievously, which surprised me since it was not a look I would have expected from him.

  “I saw on your chart that your middle name is Marie,” he explained. “I wanted to get you a Bible with your new name on it, but I knew it wasn’t something you’d shared with other people. So I had them just put ‘M.’ Others will think it’s for your middle name, but you and I know the truth.” Tears stung the back of my eyes at his words. The tan cover was part fabric and part leather, and I ran my hands over the top.

  “I chose a two-tone Bible,” he said, “as a symbol of the dual life you have—one here and one there. Both of the materials are lovely in their own way, but very different from one another.” I shook my head in awe at the thoughtfulness of this gift, contrasting the fuzzy fabric with the smooth texture of the leather. I smiled up at him through my wet lashes.

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  His mouth broke into a full smile but he shook his head. “No, thank you for sharing your story with me. Our Heavenly Father works in awesome and mysterious ways, and I am anxious to see what he has in store for you.” We smiled at each other in silence for a while.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. “I saw you’re being discharged tomorrow, so I wanted to give you my number in case you need anything. Or someone to talk to.” He scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to me, his hand closing around mine as he did. “Call anytime, day or night. I’m usually here at the hospital in the evenings, so you can come by if you need to.” He squeezed my hand, wished me a Merry Christmas with a warm smile and left. I clutched the small Bible to my chest and said a prayer of thanks.

  Chapter 24

  The next morning, the doctor came in to sign my release.

  “You’re free to go, Lindsey,” he said as he handed me a prescription for painkillers. “Keep working on your breathing exercises like I told you and take care of yourself. Nothing personal, but I don’t want to see you back in here, okay?”

  I promised to be good while Mom gathered up our bags. True to her word, she had rented a furnished, two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment within walking distance of the college. When we arrived, Mom handed me a bag of stuff and I headed off to check out my new room. The cheerful yellow walls brought an automatic smile to my face. The early afternoon sun streamed through white lace curtains, bathing the space in a soft, soothing light. The double bed with its country quilt and ruffled pillows looked heavenly after two weeks on a stiff hospital bed. I lay down on it experimentally and rolled onto my side like the doctor had instructed. A stab of pain made me wince. He’d said I should try to lie on the side with the broken ribs as often as I could stand it, to promote healing.

  “It’s not going to be fun, but the only way to get better is to work with the pain instead of trying to avoid it,” he’d said. I sighed in resignation, thinking that was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.

  Yeah, embrace the pain. Great.

  Rolling onto my back, I breathed a sigh of relief as the tension in my chest eased. The opaque edge of a plastic grocery sack caught my eye, peeking out from Mom’s pink canvas bag on the edge of the bed. Curious, I scooted over to see what it was. My favorite green sweater and jeans were crumpled into a ball in the bag. Covered in dried blood, both had been carelessly sliced open from top to bottom. My white tank top and lace bra were in a similar state, and I swallowed hard as the bile rose in my throat. My shoes were in the bottom of the bag and I thought they, at least, might be salvageable with a little industrious cleaning. Something small and round landed on the bed as I dumped out the shoes.

  “What the—”

  My heart instantly stopped.

  Nanny Fraser’s golden ring lie on the bedspread, the large center emerald glinting in the sunlight.

  All the blood drained from my head and I let out a strangled cry before falling back against the pillow with the ring clutched in my fist.

  The next thing I knew, Mom was slapping me lightly on the cheek, her voice frantic.

  “Lindsey, honey, wake up. Oh God, oh God!”

  I shook my head, staring at her in shock. My breath came in quick, ragged gasps. Instantly, I clenched my fist tight and was soothed by the feel of the cool metal against my palm.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry! I meant to get rid of that bag but I couldn’t find anyplace to throw it away. I never meant for you to see that. The nurse pulled it out from under your bed right before we left and handed it to me, so I just stuffed it in with the rest of your stuff. I don’t know why they even kept it.”


  “It was under my bed the whole time?”

  She nodded, her face contorted with guilt and worry. Images of Aiden sliding the ring on my finger poured over me and I clamped my eyes shut, struggling to breathe. My whole body shook with the torment and exultation of knowing that everything was true, that it had really happened and now he was gone.

  She gathered up the bloody clothes and stuffed them back into the bag. “I’m going to get rid of these right now. I’m so sorry.”

  When she left, I slowly opened my fist, staring in awe at my wedding ring. I slipped it on my finger. It fit perfectly, just as it had when Aiden gave it to me. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

  Aiden, it’s real. All of it was real. I still have your ring, Nanny Fraser’s ring.

  Mom came back and I quickly hid my left hand between my knees. She was a nervous wreck, strain etched on her face, and I took a deep breath, trying to pull myself together.

  “It’s all right, Mom. I was just surprised. Really, I’m fine.”

  She looked at me warily and then let out a heavy sigh. “That’s really not how I wanted to start this off. I’m supposed to be taking care of you and as soon as I get you home, you faint.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s no big deal.” I put my right hand over hers and squeezed.

  “Let’s get out of here and go get some dinner. Do you know of any good places?” she asked. I smiled and mentioned a little Italian place downtown.

  “Would you give me a minute, Mom? I want to, uh, freshen up a bit.”

  She patted my leg and shut the door behind her, leaving me alone to admire my ring. I splayed my fingers out and turned my hand from side to side, watching the sun beams dance off the clear gems, making little streaks of light on the wall. Reluctantly, I took it off and held it to my lips for a moment, then undid my necklace and slipped it onto the chain. The solid weight of it rested on my chest under my shirt, close to my heart.

  Thank you, God. I prayed silently and pulled a comb through my unruly hair. I put on some lip-gloss and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My face had healed completely, a thin white line through my right eyebrow the only visible scar, but I was not the same girl I’d been before the accident. And I never would be the same.

  “Hello, Mrs. MacRae,” I whispered to the girl in the mirror and she smiled back at me, cherishing the secret we shared.

  Chapter 25

  The final week of the year was mercifully uneventful as Mom and I adjusted to living together again. Because we spent so much time together, I started to notice little things about her. She’d always been particular about her looks, but I’d never realized how much time it took her to get ready in the morning. She took forever to do her hair and make-up, and would often completely change outfits between getting up and leaving the house. In truth, I preferred the way she looked at the end of the day when she’d wash her face and sit with me in front of the TV in her pajamas. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was more real somehow than the face she showed the rest of the world.

  Dad called me every other day to check in and see how I was doing, which was sweet but awkward. Mom never left the room while I talked to him, but would pretend she wasn’t listening, becoming suddenly engrossed in the television or a crossword puzzle. Of course, I could tell she was hanging on every word, so I tried to be as vague and nonchalant as possible. I disliked being in the middle of their bitterness toward one another, so my conversations with Dad were always brief. After one of his calls, she asked me in a disinterested tone how he was doing and I just stared at her, confused. She waved it off and shrugged.

  “You’re right. It doesn’t matter. Never mind.” She never asked again, but the subject of my father was always there between us.

  Sick and tired of being sore all the time, I missed my friends and Aiden most of all. The constant rain only added to my overall crankiness and boredom, trapping me inside. As it was, I had no one to go see anyway. Even though I knew he was staying in town over the winter break, Ravi hadn’t called me once, which relieved and irritated me at the same time. On New Year’s Eve, Mom apparently decided that she’d had enough of my moping around.

  “Lindsey, we need to do something fun tonight. Nick has to work so he can’t come down, so it’s just you and me in this God-forsaken little town. Still, it’s New Year’s Eve for crying out loud and we need to celebrate.” She grinned at me expectantly, waiting for my suggestion of a lively evening’s entertainment. I just shrugged.

  “What about a game?” she suggested. “Do we have any around here?” She got up from the couch and pawed through the drawers in the entertainment center. “There’s a deck of cards,” she said, holding them up. “We could play cards like we used to at the cabin, remember?” I dropped my gaze as I remembered little Aiden playing cards with his brother and aunt, the satisfied grin on his face when he won.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” she coaxed. “Do you know any good games or should we just play gin rummy?” I nodded, smiling reluctantly at Mom’s excited face.

  Work with the pain. That’s the only way to get through it.

  “Yeah, I learned a new one not that long ago. He called it… I mean, it’s called ‘Poque-Deux’ and it’s kinda like poker. It’s actually pretty fun, only…” I tried to think of how to explain the game without the spoils of victory. “I guess we could just keep score on a notepad.”

  “How do you usually keep score? Lindsey…?” she asked with a suspicious smile.

  I squirmed under her penetrating gaze.

  “Um… the winner of each hand takes a shot of whisky,” I said finally, not looking at her. To my surprise, she clapped her hands and threw her head back with a raucous laugh. I raised my eyebrows at her in surprise and she grinned at me mischievously.

  “Oh, come on. Do you think your mom’s such an old fuddy-dud that she thinks college kids don’t drink? I was young once too, you know. And I’ll bet I did plenty worse than you’ve ever done. You’ve always been a goody two shoes, to be honest.” I opened my mouth to protest and she waved a hand in dismissal. “Really, it doesn’t bother me in the least. It’ll be fun. Let’s go to the liquor store and I’ll let you pick out the bottle.”

  My jaw hit the floor and she laughed with girlish glee, dragging me off the couch and shoving my coat into my hands. Fortunately, I hadn’t taken any painkillers in a while or alcohol would have been out of the question. As it was, we had the kitchen table decked out with dessert, the bottle of whisky and two shot glasses within an hour. We didn’t have buttons, so settled for a couple rolls of pennies to wager with.

  Once the shock wore off, I really enjoyed teaching Mom how to play. She was fun to be with when she let herself relax. It had been a long time since I’d seen her really smile like that, and I felt closer to her than I had in years. It took her a bit to get the hang of the game and I squirmed in my seat as I poured my first shot of whisky.

  “Oh, don’t be a pansy,” she said. “Bottoms up, Linds.” I threw back the shot, coughing a little as the fiery liquid ran down my throat. She slapped one hand on the table, making the pennies jump. “That’s my girl!”

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” I laughed and shook my head. She grinned back at me and dealt another hand. We talked and laughed all night, playing cards and occasionally stopping to watch fireworks or some New Year’s Eve display on television. After about three shots, I started to feel a little queasy. The last thing I needed was to get sick.

  Yeah, crack another rib puking up whisky. No, thanks.

  I decided to switch to brownie bites for my reward, but Mom kept downing the whisky, her features softening as the alcohol affected her. She shuffled the cards and regarded me with a far-off look.

  “You’re lucky, Lindsey.”

  “Because I made it through the accident, you mean?”

  “No, not that, but that’s true.” She shook her head and dealt the cards. “No, what I mean is, you’re lucky because you have your whole life ahead of you. You could do anyth
ing, go anywhere, be whatever you want to be. In a lot of ways, I wish I could go back to those days, to be where you are again.” I didn’t know what to say. The silence stretched between us.

  “Have I ever told you how your dad and I met?” she asked, her voice wistful. I shook my head, intrigued but a little apprehensive, since the subject of my dad never seemed to end well. Still, she had a soft smile at the corner of her mouth like it was a pleasant memory, so I encouraged her to go on.

  “I was taking dance classes at the University of Washington,” she said, “and he was a sales and marketing major. We met in the cafeteria at school. He was behind me in line and made some inane comment about something on my tray.” She chuckled, her eyes lighting up in remembrance.

  “I don’t even remember now what he said, but it was pretty obvious he was trying to start a conversation. I thought he was cute though, so I let him sit with me. He made me laugh and he adored me. Followed me around like a lovesick puppy dog.” A shadow passed over her features and my chest tightened with worry.

  “I wanted to be a dancer. It was my passion. Did you know that?” She looked up suddenly, as if she’d just remembered I was there.

  “No. I’m surprised you never mentioned it before.”

  “Yeah, I loved jazz dance in particular: the flow, the movement, the energy. When I danced, I just… melted into the music like it was part of me, like air that lifted me and moved me. I don’t even know how to explain it.” She shook her head in frustration.

  “I got a scholarship to Juilliard in New York and I was going to transfer, but I got pregnant. I was going to dance and travel, see the world, make something of myself, but I became a mom instead and stayed home with you.” She tried to smile, but regret was written all over her face. Speechless, I just stared at her. She sighed and took a bite of chocolate chip cookie from the dessert tray.