My Kind of Christmas

ideas are so out of character and way too risky! I’m trying to—”
    “Stop talking?” Brie asked, cutting her off. “Because, Professor, one of the things you do best is push your agenda on people. I know it comes naturally, and you’ve had many students to corral in the right direction, not to mention four younger siblings and three daughters to raise. Have you ever tried just saying nothing?”
    She apparently was giving it a try because there was dead silence on the phone line. Eventually, Brie heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Well. That hurt.”
    “I know,” Brie said softly. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but sometimes you’re too pushy. And this isn’t the first time you’ve heard that.”
    “Angie didn’t think I was too pushy when I took a two-month leave to take care of her, to help her to the bathroom, read to her and cheer her on during all her painful physical therapy sessions.”
    “I think the important difference right now is that she doesn’t need help to do all those basic things and doesn’t like being treated as though she does. If you don’t back way off, my darling big sister, she’s going to run. Run fast and far. You have to let go. You have to let her make her own decision and, yes, even her own mistakes.”
    Donna’s voice was uncharacteristically small when she said, “I only want her to be okay....”
    “Of course that’s what you want. You’re a good mother. And now I’m going be a good sister. I’m going to get you through this, Donna. Just give me a chance.”
    “Because you’re all wise and experienced?” Donna asked, a bit resentfully.
    “In a way. I might not have raised a young woman in her twenties, but it hasn’t been all that long since I was one. And I remember how people getting in my space and my business made me crazy. I know that when I was determined in a certain direction—like dating some idiot who didn’t deserve me—criticism of him would only make me more determined. I remember when I was planning a wedding and all my sisters had advice about what I should do—always exactly what I didn’t want to do—and it made me furious…and mean. It made me mean. If you stretch your memory, I know you’ll remember being in that place—young, idealistic and determined. And damn angry when anyone tried to change your mind.”
    She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, “Creepy Calvin.”
    “Ah,” Brie said with a laugh. “Your practice fiancé!”
    “Engaged for four months. Mom and Dad hated him and asked me what I saw in him. Jack didn’t like him. My girlfriends kept asking me if I’d lost my mind. What was I thinking?”
    “Maybe you were thinking you could make up your own mind. So let me ask you something—if everyone had backed off, would you still have done it? Accepted his lame-ass proposal?”
    “Oh, undoubtedly. But I would have broken it off sooner. I hung in there for a couple of months after I realized he was a controlling, small-minded doofus just because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone saying they tried to warn me.”
    “And what would you have liked your friends and family to have said to you instead?”
    She thought for a moment. “Oh, something along the lines of, ‘You’re a smart woman, Donna. You’ll do what’s best for you.’”
    “There you go,” Brie said. “Practice that.”

Ten
    N othing could have prepared Patrick for the experience of taking Angie, Megan and Lorraine to Davis for an appointment with the plastic surgeon. He had offered simply because he wanted to spend the time with Angie and because he was curious to see for himself the evolution of this special project she’d taken on. And the revelations were stunning.
    When they arrived at the Thicksons’, he was struck by their poverty. This was a hard-working family, yet they lived in a small, poor farmhouse that looked as if it would collapse if he kicked the right stud. Then there was his first full-face view of Megan’s scar, and he’d had to concentrate to keep from wincing. The angry line that ran from her mouth to just under her eye made her look almost clownish. And she wore an expression of despair that he wasn’t sure was an expression of her sadness or just the result of her tugging facial muscles. Even when she smiled, she looked forlorn. Angie was right—she could not go into her teenage years like this.
    The drive to Davis was quietly lighthearted. There was a lot of talking