Chapter 6 - Christmas Without Staff
Neither couple went to the resort.
The reservations were nonrefundable.
Laura blamed Margaret for the lost money.
Michael blamed Laura for discussing the plan loudly enough to be overheard.
Their spouses blamed both of them.
For the first time, the four adults had to organize Christmas around their own children.
They divided groceries.
Made beds.
Cooked dinner.
Managed arguments.
Wrapped gifts after midnight.
Michael burned the ham.
Laura forgot batteries for three toys.
Two children caught a mild stomach bug, and the adults spent Christmas Eve cleaning instead of drinking cocktails beside the hotel pool.
Nothing catastrophic happened.
The children were safe.
They were fed.
They laughed.
They watched movies and built a blanket fort.
The parents simply had to participate.
Meanwhile, Margaret ate chowder near a window overlooking the ocean.
She walked along the cold shore in the afternoon and read a novel beside the inn’s fireplace.
On Christmas morning, she woke without an alarm.
The dining room served breakfast.
Nobody asked her to cut pancakes, find missing socks, or clean wrapping paper.
She missed her grandchildren.
That feeling was real.
But missing them did not mean she had made the wrong decision.
Love and exhaustion could exist together.
So could love and boundaries.
Laura called again on Christmas afternoon.
“The kids keep asking why you abandoned Christmas.”
Margaret set down her tea.
“Tell them the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That their parents planned a vacation without arranging childcare.”
Laura lowered her voice.
“You’re making us look terrible.”
May you like
“I’m not making you look like anything.”
For the first time, Margaret did not rescue her daughter from the discomfort of an accurate description.
