My Kind of Christmas

with that?”
    “Brie, it was never little....”
    “Oh, that’s right—you described it as world-class.”
    “Yes. And full-blown.” Then Angie’s cheeks pinkened, though she tried to smile through it.
    “Full-blown?” Brie asked weakly.
    “I’m seeing him. We’re trying to be discreet so Jack doesn’t get…you know, how he gets.”
    “Seeing?” Brie asked. But she shook her head. Did she not want the answer?
    Angie took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as she answered. “He’s wonderful. I adore him. And until I have to give him up, I’m going to love every inch of him.”
    “Oh, God…” Brie’s eyes grew round and her mouth hung open, then she let her head fall to the kitchen table with a thunk, again.
    * * *
    Brie and Angie had always been close. When Brie was a tot, her big brother Jack carted her around, spoiled her, fussed over her. And then he went off to the Marine Corps when she was only five. When Angie was born, twelve-year-old Brie couldn’t be around her enough. She was more a big sister than aunt—her babysitter and confidante.
    While both of them were devoted to Donna, there were also times it felt as though they shared a common enemy. Donna was strong willed; she could be a force of nature. Also, Donna would often be the one to step in during a crisis large or small and take charge, manage the situation, resolve the problem. She seemed to be able to do that effortlessly.
    When Donna and Brie’s mother died, Brie leaned on her big sister heavily, and there was no question she’d have been lost without her. Angie leaned on both her mother and her aunt. Together, they all propped up Angie’s grandfather, Sam.
    Everyone knew Donna was a good, strong woman.
    She could be difficult and hard to satisfy, tough to please.
    She could also be so warm and compassionate.
    Brie remembered too well a time when she was Angie’s age, a law student messing with a professor. Donna had had a hissy. Brie would’ve died before listening to Donna, though. In fact, she wondered if it was Donna’s warnings that might’ve driven her into the professor’s arms. And, still, when her heart was breaking, Brie ran to Donna, who consoled her.
    And here they were, full circle. Brie had learned a few things since she was Angie’s age, things she hoped she could remember when her own daughter was twenty-three. For now, Brie pulled Angie into a hug and said, “Please be careful.”
    “Of course I will.”
    “Would you like to have dinner with us tonight? At the bar?”
    Angie laughed. “Not a chance.”
    After saying their goodbyes, Brie made her way to the bar for dinner. Mike was meeting her there, as was Mel with her kids. This time of year the place had an even bigger draw than during deer-hunting season, given the tree and that amazing star on top. It was a crazier place—people came from miles to see the tree and it was only natural to stop into Jack’s for dinner or dessert. And fortunately, Brie’s daughter, Ness, and her cousins Emma and David were big enough now to sit at the table, feed themselves, maybe do a little coloring, sometimes sneaking off to Preacher’s quarters to play with Dana and the toys.
    Even with that advantage, the bar was not conducive to quiet conversation. And yet, Brie really needed to talk.
    “Can you spit it out?” Mel asked, once they’d all settled at a table.
    “Are you psychic or what? Because I don’t recall saying I wanted to talk.”
    “You and Paige have been my best friends for going on five years. Both of you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’ve got a problem. Don’t ask me why both of you do that....”
    “I’m going to stop immediately,” Brie said. “I honestly don’t know if I should be talking about this.”
    “Patrick and Angie?”
    “She told you?”
    Mel shook her head. “I guessed.”
    “And she admitted it?”
    Mel shook her head again. “She got red as a beet when I mentioned him. Dead giveaway. Even if I hadn’t already noticed her bright eyes, distracted behavior and whisker burn.”
    “Shew. You should really be a cop.”
    Mel laughed.
    “What are we going to do?” Brie asked.
    “I think nothing.”
    “Do we tell Jack?”
    “I think definitely not. Angie might see that as a betrayal. Besides, it’s not going to take Jack long to figure it out himself.”
    Brie leaned back and took in the scene of the loud, packed room. Mike was behind the bar, as was Denny Cutler, Jack’s part-time help. Preacher