At some point in her thirties, having consumed too many glasses of wine, she’d Googled Bryce’s brothers to see how they’d turned out. Both had graduated from MIT at seventeen and were working in the tech world—Richard in Silicon Valley, Robert in Boston. Both were married with children; to Maggie, though their photographs showed them to be grown men, they would always remain twelve years old.
As the clock’s hands inched toward midnight, Maggie could feel the exhaustion overtaking her, like a storm front rapidly approaching. Mark must have seen it in her face because he reached over to touch her arm.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t keep you up much longer.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried,” she said weakly. “There comes a time now when I just shut down.”
“You know what I was thinking? Ever since you started telling me the story?”
“What?”
He scratched at his ear. “When I think back on my life—and granted, I’m not all that old—I can’t help thinking that while I’ve had different phases, I’ve always just become a slightly older version of me. Elementary school led to middle school and high school and college, youth hockey led to junior hockey and then high school hockey. There were no periods of major reinvention. But with you, it’s been just the opposite. You were an ordinary girl, then you became the pregnant you, which altered the course of your life. You became someone else once you returned to Seattle, then cast that person aside when you moved to New York. And then transformed yourself again, becoming a professional in the art world. You’ve become someone entirely new, over and over.”
“Don’t forget the cancer version of me.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “And I hope you’re not taking it the wrong way. I find your journey to be fascinating and inspiring.”
“I’m not that special. And it’s not as though I planned it. I’ve spent most of my life reacting to things that happened to me.”
“It’s more than that. You have a courage that I don’t think I have.”
“It’s not courage as much as survival instincts. And hopefully learning some things along the way.”
He leaned over the table. “You want to know something?”
Maggie gave a tired nod.
“This is the most memorable Christmas I’ve ever had,” he stated. “Not just tonight; the entire week. Of course, I also had the chance to listen to the most amazing story I’ve ever heard. It’s been a gift and I want to thank you for that.”
She smiled. “Speaking of gifts, I got something for you.” From her handbag, she pulled out the Altoids tin and slid it across the table. Mark scrutinized it.
“Did I have too much garlic?”
“Don’t be silly. I didn’t have the time or energy to wrap it.”
Mark lifted the lid. “Flash drives?”
“They have my photographs on them,” she said. “All of my favorites.”
His eyes widened. “Even the ones in the gallery?”
“Of course. They’re not officially numbered, but if there are any that you particularly like, you can have them printed up.”
“Are the photos from Mongolia there?”
“Some of them.”
“And Rush?”
“That one, too.”
“Wow…” he said, gently lifting one of the drives from the box. “Thank you.” He put the first drive down, lifted the second reverently, and put it back. Touched the third and fourth ones, as though making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
“I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” he said solemnly.
“Before you think it’s too special, I’ll probably do the same thing for Luanne in the next month or so. Trinity too.”
“I’m sure she’ll love it as much as I do. I’d rather have this than one of Trinity’s pieces.”
“You should take the Trinity piece if he offers it. Maybe sell it and buy yourself a nice-sized house.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, but it was clear his mind was still on the gift. He peered at the photos displayed on the walls around him before shaking his head in what looked like wonder. “I can’t think of anything else to say except thank you again.”
“Merry Christmas, Mark. And thank you for making this week very special for me, too. I don’t know what I would have done had you not been so willing to humor my whims. And, of course, I’m looking forward to meeting Abigail, too. I think you said she’s coming out on the twenty-eighth?”
“Saturday,” he said. “I’ll make sure she comes to the gallery on a day when you’re here.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to give you the whole time off while she’s here. I can’t promise anything.”
“She understands,” Mark assured her. “We also have a full Sunday planned and we have New Year’s Day, too.”
“Why don’t we close the gallery on the thirty-first? I’m sure Trinity won’t mind.”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll make it happen. As a boss who understands the importance of spending time with the people you love, I mean.”
“Okay,” he agreed. He closed the lid of the Altoids tin before looking up at her again. “If you could have anything you’d like for Christmas, what would that be?”
The question caught her off guard. “I don’t know,” she finally offered. “I guess I’d say that I’d like to turn back the clock and move to Washington, D.C., right after Bryce graduated. And I’d beg him not to join the special forces.”
“What if you couldn’t turn back the clock? What if it’s something in the here and now? Something that was actually possible?”
She considered it. “It’s not really a Christmas wish, or even a New Year’s resolution. But there are certain…closures that I’d like while I still have time. I want to tell my mom and dad that I understand they always did what they thought was best for me and how much I appreciate all their sacrifices. I know that deep down, my parents have always loved me and been there for me, and I want to thank them for that. Morgan too.”
“Morgan?”
“We may not have had much in common, but she’s my only sister. She’s also an amazing mother to her daughters, and I want her to know that in a lot of ways, she’s been an inspiration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Trinity, for all he’s done for me. Luanne for the same reason. You. Lately, it’s become very clear to me with whom I want to spend my remaining time.”
“How about a last trip somewhere? To the Amazon or something like that?”
“I think my traveling days are behind me. But that’s okay. I don’t have regrets on that end. I’ve traveled enough for ten lives.”
“How about one last feast at a Michelin-starred restaurant?”
“Food tastes bad to me now, remember? I’m pretty much living on smoothies and eggnog.”
“I keep trying to think of something else…”
“I’m fine, Mark. Right now, the apartment and the gallery are more than enough.”