Morgan was furious at George. Although she had respected him before, she no longer did. It was impossible to respect a man who could be so cruel to her friend. Claire was reeling from having her heart broken into a million pieces. She could barely face the thought of Christmas and wished she wasn’t going home. She would rather have stayed with her friends in New York, but didn’t want to disappoint her mother. Before she lost her job, Claire had bought her mother an expensive handbag she hoped she’d love, and her father a sweater, neither of which she could afford now, but it was Christmas and she hadn’t told them she’d been fired. She dreaded spending the holidays with them. They had no idea that George had dumped her and she’d lost her job. She was going to tell her mother while she was there, after Christmas, and ask her to tell her father after she left. She couldn’t face dealing with his concern, and depressing view of life. Failure was familiar to him.
The flight was delayed by three hours due to weather in San Francisco, and there were storms all across the country, which made for a turbulent flight. She didn’t care. If the plane crashed on the way out, it would be a relief. She wouldn’t have to collect unemployment then, or look for a new job, or spend the rest of her life without George, hating him for what he’d done.
She was planning to send her CV out again when she got back, and tell them she was available immediately now and had left her job. When they checked her references, they would know she got fired. She was sure that Walter would tell them, but there was nothing she could do to stop him.
She took a cab from the airport, and her mother was waiting for her at home. They had finished dinner, and her father was already in front of the TV, watching the Discovery Channel with a drink in his hand, and her mother followed her to her room while she unpacked.
“You’ve gotten awfully thin,” her mother said, looking worried. Claire had lost ten pounds or more in the four weeks since Thanksgiving.
“I had the flu. We all had it at the apartment,” Claire lied to her, not ready to tell her the truth. She couldn’t put the horror of it all into words.
Her mother had put up a tree in the living room, as she always did, and her father complained that it was a fire hazard. Claire had no idea how she was going to get through the four days she planned to be there.
“How’s George?” her mother asked with a gentle smile as she watched Claire unpack. This time she had brought very little, and seemed to be living in jeans and black sweaters. She was in some kind of mourning, for George, and her heart, which had died.
“He’s fine,” she said vaguely, pretending to look for something in her suitcase so her mother didn’t see her face.
“What did he give you for Christmas?” A kick in the teeth was the only answer she could think of, as she continued to dig through her suitcase. Sarah had been wondering if he would give Claire an engagement ring, or maybe he was waiting for New Year’s, which Claire had originally said she’d be spending with him.
“A purse” was the insane response that came to mind as she turned to face her mother. “I hate to do this to you, Mom, but it’s three hours later for me, and I’m still tired after the flu. Would you mind terribly if I go to bed?” She knew her mother counted on her for company when she was home, but she just couldn’t do it tonight. And she still had Christmas Eve and Day to get through.
“Of course not, dear. We can talk tomorrow. Would you like a cup of herbal tea?” Her mother was always so sweet to her that Claire felt terrible shutting her out, but she needed to be alone, just for tonight.
“I’m fine.” Claire gave her a fierce hug, and a minute later her mother left to go back to her own room, to read as she did every night. And twenty minutes after that, Claire was sound asleep.
She helped her mother bake cookies the next day, and watched her prepare the turkey and stuffing and put it in the oven. Claire set the table for her, and Sarah had decorated a beautiful Christmas table for the three of them, as she always did. And afterward the two women would go to midnight mass, at Grace Cathedral. Claire’s father hadn’t gone with them in years.
It was cold when they came down the steps of the cathedral across from Huntington Park, with brightly colored lights hung in the trees, and Claire tucked a hand into her mother’s arm as they looked at it for a minute. Sarah didn’t ask her anything, but she could sense that something was very wrong, and she had seen Claire wipe away tears during the service. They got into the car to drive home, and Claire was very quiet.
“Thank you for coming out here,” Sarah said softly, as they pulled up in front of their garage. “I know it’s not fun for you.”
“I like being with you, Mom,” Claire said honestly. That much was true, and then she couldn’t lie to her anymore. She turned to her mother in the car. “George dumped me, and I got fired. I didn’t want to tell you on the phone, and I’m sorry to tell you now.” Her mother silently put her arms around her and held her as she cried.
“I’m so sorry,” she said soothingly. She didn’t ask what happened. It didn’t make any difference. The end result was all that mattered, and her daughter’s broken heart. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said to her mother, as she pulled away and smiled through her tears. “He said he’s a lone wolf. But he’s the one who rushed into everything, and acted like we’d been together for years. He scared the shit out of himself, and then he ran away.”
“Do you think he’ll calm down and come back?”
“Not a chance.” She was bracing herself to see his name any day, linked with someone else, on Page Six. She knew it would happen sooner or later. He was finished with her, and she didn’t want to give herself or her mother false hope. His text had made it clear. “And Walter is an asshole, and I hate his shoes.” She laughed and blew her nose in a tissue her mother handed her, and this time Sarah laughed too.
“Even I wouldn’t wear them at my age,” she said to Claire, and they both chuckled.
“I’ll start sending my résumé out after New Year’s. Something will turn up.” And she had the credentials to design more than just shoes. Footwear was her strong suit and her passion, but she was willing to design clothes too, and had the training for it from Parsons. “I’m sorry to tell you all this tonight. I was going to wait until after Christmas.” But she was relieved that she had told her now. Her mother was always so comforting and positive. She was suddenly happy to be home, with her broken heart. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’ll find a job.” She didn’t want her mother to think she was going to be a burden on them. At twenty-eight, she wanted to stand on her own two feet. And her parents didn’t have the money to help her. She expected nothing from them, except her mother’s love. “And could you do me a favor, and don’t tell Dad until after I leave? I don’t want to hear about it from him.” Sarah nodded, she understood.
They went into the house then and had a cup of chamomile tea in the kitchen. Claire’s father had gone to bed, and the house was quiet as the two women sat talking. Sarah was looking pensive, thinking of what Claire had shared with her, and a little while later, they went to bed.
In the morning, Claire and her mother exchanged gifts sitting next to the tree. Sarah loved the Chanel bag and was touched by what it must have cost her, especially now. And Claire gave her father his sweater when he got up. He actually liked it and thanked her for it, and everyone was in a good mood.
Claire went into her room then, and sent e-mails to her roommates, wishing them a merry Christmas, and as she turned the computer off, her mother walked into the room, and quietly shut the door behind her, and then sat down on her daughter’s bed. She looked as though she had something important to say. She had thought about it all night.