One More for Christmas

What excuse could she make for a family gathering that lasted longer than a courtesy hospital visit?

Out of nowhere she thought about that young journalist, Rochelle.

I just love a big family gathering. Massive tree. Gifts in front of the fire.

At the time, Gayle had been typically evasive in her answer, knowing that on Christmas Day she’d be doing what she did every other day of the year. Working. Her girls had always hated that about her. Surrounded by friends whose families had yielded to commercial pressures and expectations, they’d begged her for gifts, for a tree, for a trip to the ice rink, for fairy lights and a snow globe. She’d said no to all of it, of course, because Christmas was a particularly difficult time of year for her. She handled it by working, her goal to block it out and make it seem like any other day. She didn’t stare wistfully through other people’s windows. She didn’t allow herself to feel envious or sad, and she definitely didn’t look back. Instead she made a point of focusing on her own life. Working at least had a purpose, which was more than could be said for a snow globe.

But her girls had always loved the time of year and yearned for a kind of magical Christmas they’d somehow invented in their heads.

And suddenly she knew. What better excuse was there for a family gathering than Christmas?

“You’re wondering why I asked you to come.” She handed the water back to Ella. “I wanted to see you in person because I want us to spend the holidays together this year.”

Samantha blinked. “Excuse me?”

“The holidays. Christmas.” Gayle focused on Ella. “It was always your favorite time of year. I—I’d like to join you if that’s all right. I’ll come to your place and we can spend quality time together.”

There was a protracted silence.

Gayle could almost feel their shock.

“My place?” Ella’s voice sounded squeaky and strange. “You want to come to my place?”

“I don’t even know where you’re living. Wherever it is, I’m sure it’s wonderful. Even when you were young, you made your room cozy. I’m sure you can handle one more for Christmas. You do have a spare room? If not, I’ll sleep on the couch.” She was willing

to do whatever it took.

“The—couch?” Ella was balanced on the edge of her seat. “You?”

“I’ve surprised you.” The more she thought about it, the prouder Gayle was of her idea. What better way to bond as a family than at Christmas? “But I hope it’s a good surprise. You always wanted to make more fuss of the holiday season. Well, let’s do it. Let’s do it together. Big tree. Gifts in front of the fire. A family Christmas. All the things you used to want. Just the three of us. How does that sound?”

Samantha

“How does that sound? It sounds like the worst idea I’ve heard in a long time, maybe I’ve ever heard, that’s how it sounds.” Samantha shouldered the door of their hotel room shut and dropped her bag. They were on a high floor, and through the glass Manhattan was spread before them like a jeweler’s window, all glitter and sparkle. Another person might have paused to admire the view, but this city reminded her of her mother. Of ambition. Of Choice Not Chance. She closed the drapes. “A family Christmas? Christmas with our mother, who makes Scrooge look like Santa?”

“She wants to come to me!” Ella’s eyes were wide and worried. “She can’t come to me! I’d have to explain a child and a husband, neither of which she knows about. And he doesn’t know, either.”

“What?” Samantha whirled round, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You still haven’t told Michael? I thought—”

“I was going to, truly, but I’ve been waiting for the right moment and so far it hasn’t shown itself to me.”

All her life Ella had avoided conflict, particularly when the source of that conflict was their mother. She made herself small, while Samantha went in for the fight.

But she wasn’t prepared to fight for her sister’s marriage.

“That’s a whole other problem. Your problem. We’ll get to that in a minute. I’m still trying to handle the fact that our mother wants to ruin Christmas. What were her exact words? I’m sure you can handle one more for Christmas. If I’m having one more of anything for Christmas, it’s going to be a big strong drink.” Samantha hung up her coat and slid off her shoes.

Ella did the same. “She didn’t say she wanted to ruin Christmas. She said she wanted to spend it with us.”

“Yeah, and she’s always been so great at making Christmas special. I’m remembering the year she told you that there was no Santa. You were four and you cried for two days.” Samantha stared at her sister. “Why are you wearing a dress? Are you going for an interview tomorrow or something?”

“I wanted to look like a person who had just sprinted from work.”

“You could have just told her you’ve chosen to be at home raising your child.”

“After she said how proud she was that I’d finally stuck at something? I don’t think so.” Ella removed her gloves and Samantha frowned.

“Since when have you suffered from bad circulation?”