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“To answer your question, no. I never thought I was too young, but it was almost thirty years ago.” Her mother paused a beat, raising her cup to her lips as she added, “I was scared, though.”
“You were?” The words rushed out like a hopeful sigh.
“I was in charge of raising a tiny person into a functioning adult. Some days I thought I would break down, it got so difficult, especially when there were three of you under the age of six! It is humbling to be a parent and you question every decision.” Her mom leaned over and grabbed Merry’s nose in a gentle grip. “But I think I did all right with you guys.”
“I don’t know about Holly, but Nick and I are pretty solid.”
“Your sister is fine!” her mother shouted.
“She’s certifiable.”
“Maybe so, but I’m proud of all of you. You carved your own path in this world.”
“Maybe Holly and Nick did, but sometimes…”
Victoria frowned. “What, honey?”
“I don’t know. I went away to college and kept searching for my passion. Nick has his dream job and Noel, and Holly became an internet sensation and opened her shop. And I came home to Mistletoe.”
“Baby, if you don’t want to run the farm, you don’t have to. You kids can sell it when we’re gone.”
“No way!” Merry protested. “I love this place. I want it. But with two extraordinary siblings, I feel like my dreams are too simple for this family.”
“Just because a dream isn’t elaborate doesn’t mean it isn’t extraordinary. I wanted to marry your father.”
“Mom…” Merry groaned.
“What? It’s true. We didn’t share a circle of friends in high school because he was two years ahead, but I held such a torch for him. When we ran into each other in college, I gave him a run for his money, but this math geek—” Her mother pointed her thumb at her chest. “—got the guy.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Mom. You were a smoking hot math geek. I’ve seen pics.”
“Your dad still thinks I’m sexy.”
Merry wrinkled her nose. “Mom!”
“When I put on my reading glasses and go into CPA mode with my calculator, it drives him crazy.”
“What is wrong with you? I’m your daughter!”
Victoria laughed so hard, her eyes teared. “Ahhh, your face.”
“Gross.” Merry giggled.
Her mom wiped her eyes, her mirth subsiding. “I love torturing my children. That’s good parenting right there.”
“Holly hasn’t forgiven you for threatening to tell her where she was conceived.”
“Serves her right. I love my wild child, but she gives me all the gray hair. Except this section over here,” she said, pointing to her left temple. “That’s your brother, and when I part my hair to the side, this whole line is you.”
“I don’t see any gray hair.”
“That is because I refuse to age gracefully and visit my stylist every six weeks.”
Merry smiled, her heart bursting as she watched her beautiful mother across the table. She was the kisser of ouchies, the baker of cookies, the surgeon of injured stuffed animals, and never said no to one more story or a hug from her children. Merry hoped someday to be half the mom she’d had.
Merry got up from the table with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Mom.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
