As for Art—he’d be fine on his own for a couple of days, but Luke didn’t feel right leaving him alone. Luke appealed to Shelby and the general. Art should have a holiday dinner, a few presents that Luke would provide before leaving town and some sense of family. He knew before even asking they’d be more than happy to welcome Art and see that he had a memorable Christmas.
And then there was Shelby. He racked his brain for a gift idea. He wanted her to know she was very important to him, but he was nervous about what to buy her. She was the kind of woman he felt like buying something flashy and sparkly for, but he just wasn’t ready for something like that. Women saw things like jewelry as stepping stones to marriage, but things like sweaters sent the message you didn’t care at all. So Luke went all out in the only way he knew how. It was more than he’d spent on a woman in over a dozen years, including his mother—he bought Shelby very special, six-hundred-dollar ostrich boots, handcrafted and stitched. He considered buying her a saddle, but the boots were more personal. They had their Christmas-gift exchange right before he left town, and when she opened her gift and saw the boots, she wept. No one had ever given her a gift like that in her life and he enjoyed success when she kissed all over him.
He took her into his arms, laughing sentimentally. “I’ve never seen you cry,” he said, holding her close, rocking her back and forth gently.
“Oh, you’d have seen way too much of that a year ago….”
“But these are happy tears. That’s different. That means I did good.”
“You did very good,” she said. “They’re just amazing. Exactly what I would have had made for myself. Like my own skin. I could sleep in them.”
“But someone could get hurt,” he reminded her with a laugh.
She gave him a new leather jacket that was almost as expensive as the boots and just as personal. “It’s okay if you don’t wear it a lot. I know you love that flying jacket of yours and you’re so sexy in it—but this is for when you’re not on the bike. For those rare times you dress up a little bit.”
He asked her about all those things she’d talked about doing before Doc had died and she’d become so busy helping Mel—the applications to college, for example. She told him she’d applied to several major California universities: Stanford, USC, UC Davis, San Francisco State. It was only Christmas—September was a long way off. “I also sent an application to Humboldt State University, right down the road, in case I decide to stay right where I am. They have a fabulous program for bachelor of science nursing.”
That was his cue to say something about how much he’d like that, he’d like to keep her here forever. But something caught in his throat and he said, “Sounds like you’ve covered all the possibilities, honey.”
It was only the three boys in Phoenix for the Christmas holidays, Luke’s stay being the most brief. “With Art and cabins full of holiday visitors, I can’t be gone long.”
“And with Shelby there,” his mother said while she blended egg nog.
But Luke said nothing. His mother and Sean brought up Shelby’s name fairly often, but Luke wasn’t participating.
Their traditions amounted to food and church and laughter. There was a call from Colin in the Gulf, another from Paddy aboard ship. Once those two calls had been handled, they were free to leave the apartment. On Christmas Eve, they refused to let Maureen cook, even if it was the one thing she most wanted to do. Instead, the boys took her to Ruth’s Chris Steak House in Scottsdale where you could eat the filets with a spoon. Then back to her apartment complex where they played pool in the recreation room, all four of them.
Then there was midnight mass. This was where Maureen shined, presenting three of her five sons to her friends, to the priest, to the sisters she knew. “I’m going to hell,” Luke muttered to Aiden. “I took Communion and I haven’t been in a church since last time I visited Mom.”
“Me, too,” Aiden whispered.
“Me, three,” Sean said.
And the three of them cracked up, laughing so hard they could barely stand, while Maureen glared at them.
The tradition in their family since they’d become adults was to open their presents after mass on Christmas Eve, but the presents were less important to the boys than the fact that now they could finally bring out the bottle and pour some healthy shots, since they were in for the night. They had purchased lavish gifts for their mother. Luke had gotten her a gift certificate to the Chanel counter at Dillard’s. Aiden had bought an expensive Lladró sculpture for her collection. Sean gave her a new iPhone.
The brothers gave each other modest gifts. Luke got a subscription to a motorcycle magazine and a sweater that was as ugly as a ball of string. Sean gave Aiden a subscription to Penthouse magazine.
“What the hell,” Aiden said, looking at the gift card. Aiden was thirty-four, an OB-GYN in the navy, a doctor responsible for active-duty military women and a lot of the wives of marines and sailors, although he himself was alone.
“I thought you might like to know what women can look like when they don’t have their feet in the stirrups.”
“Thoughtful,” Aiden said. “How can I ever thank you?”
Luke simply gave his brothers shirts, but Maureen’s gift to her three sons stole the show. “It’s for the Camel-back Spa,” she said proudly, passing them their individual envelopes. “They’re open from eleven to three on Christmas Day and I made you appointments. I had to do it months ago. While I’m making the turkey and trimmings, you can go have massages or facials, manicures.”
They looked at each other with wide eyes. And each one said, “Thank you, Mom, that’s wonderful,” “That should be cool, Mom, thanks,” “How original, Mom—thanks a million.”
“Now, I know you think you’re too manly for facials, but try it. You’ll love it!”
And on Christmas Day, while Maureen was making the turkey, Aiden, Luke and Sean found a bar that was open and drowned their guilt that they were not in a spa having facials and manicures. When they got back to Maureen’s apartment, she fussed over how relaxed they all looked.
The Christmas dinner was, as usual, fabulous. Maureen loved nothing so much as fussing over her family and they all ate too much, which pleased her. Luke would be the first to leave, the next morning. Home to Virgin River. As his last day with his mother and brothers wore on, he grew more and more pensive, thinking about how Shelby had said after the first of the year, she’d be moving on. When everyone finally went to bed, he fixed himself a drink and sat up in the dimly lit living room of his mother’s apartment.
Aiden found him there, sitting in the semidark, nursing a whiskey. Aiden fixed himself a matching drink and went into the living room, sitting down across from him. He was one of the brothers who’d tried marriage. It had been brief, during his residency, but in his case the breakup was his idea and he couldn’t get out of his mess fast enough. He didn’t suffer anything afterward but relief.
“So,” Aiden said. “We could talk about it.”
“Talk about what?”
“Why you look like someone shot your dog. Shelby, I assume.”
“Nah,” Luke said, taking a drink. “That’s not serious.”
“I guess that has nothing to do with your sleeplessness or your mood then. Trouble with the cabins? The town? Your tenant/helper?”
“Aiden, there’s nothing bothering me, except maybe that I’ve been working my ass off for three months getting a house and six cabins rebuilt and furnished.”
Aiden took a sip of his drink. “Twenty-five, so Sean and Mom say. And gorgeous.”
“Sean’s an idiot who can’t mind his own business. She’s just a girl.”
“She’s just a girl who has you looking a little uptight.”
“Thanks,” he said, standing. “You don’t look that great yourself—I’m going to bed.” He threw back the rest of his drink.
“Nah, don’t,” Aiden said. “Fix another one. Give me ten minutes, huh? I can just ask a couple of questions, right? I’m not like Sean, I’m not going to get up your ass about this. But you haven’t talked about it much and I’m a little curious.”
Luke thought about that for a second and against his better judgment, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a short shot. He went back and sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees. “What?” he asked abruptly.
Aiden chuckled. “Okay. Relax. Just a girl? Not serious?”
“That’s right. A town girl, sort of. She’s visiting her family and she’ll be leaving pretty soon.”
“Ah—I didn’t know that. I guess I thought she lived there.”
“Long visit,” Luke said. “Her mother died last spring. She’s spending a few months with her uncle until she gets on with things—like where she wants to live. College and travel and stuff. This is temporary, that’s all.”
“But—if you felt serious, there isn’t any reason you wouldn’t let it…you know…evolve…?”
“I don’t feel serious,” he said, his mouth in a firm line.
“Okay, I get that. Does she? Feel serious?”
“She has plans. I didn’t trap her, Aiden. I made sure she knew—I’m not interested in being a family man. I told her she could do better, I’m just not built that way. But when I’m with a woman, I know how to treat her right. If she needed something permanent, she was in the wrong place. That’s how it is.”
“Never?”
“What do you mean, never? No one in this family is interested in that.”
“Bullshit. I am. Sean says he’s having too much fun, but the truth is he has the attention span of a cabbage. But me? I’d like a wife, a family.”
“Didn’t you already try that once?” Luke asked, sitting back in his chair, relaxing a little bit since the attention had shifted to Aiden’s life.
“Oh, yeah—I tried hard. Next time I try, I’m going to see if I can find a woman who’s not certifiable and off her meds.” He grinned. “Really, that’s what happens when you ignore all the symptoms because she’s such a friggin’ miracle in bed, it causes brain damage.” He shrugged. “I’m on the lookout for that.”
Luke grinned. “She was hot.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“She was worse than nuts.”
“Nightmare nuts,” Aiden agreed. “But this gorgeous twenty-five-year-old—she’s real sweet, I hear.”
“Fucking Sean…” Luke said, shaking his head.
“Not Sean. Mom.”
“Almost as bad,” Luke said. “You know Mom—she’s been on this marriage-and-grandchildren campaign for a long time.”
“So, she’s not sweet?” Aiden asked.
“Sweeter than honey,” he admitted. “But there are other things about her—complications. Her mother had ALS and Shelby was her nurse for years till she died—the girl’s had no life. She dropped out of school and hardly left the house. Her idea of a big night was reading to her mother or watching a DVD with her. She’s had her freedom for about six months and it was a hard freedom—that’s why she’s with her uncle, recovering. Making a transition. To hear her tell it, it’s not easy to go from being needed twenty-four hours a day to having no one to take care of but yourself. She’s a young twenty-five, as in, not a lot of life experience. She’s a little bit like a prisoner on parole.”
Aiden’s mouth was open slightly. “Jesus.” He took a breath. “Mom knows this?”
