One More for Christmas

“Don’t think that will soften her,” Ella said. “She does not find young children enchanting or delightful. Christmas didn’t happen in our house. Samantha and I used to have our own mini Christmas in my bedroom. Remember the twig tree?”

Samantha smiled for the first time since they’d left the hotel room that morning. “Of course.”

“Mom wouldn’t have a tree in the house,” Ella said, “so Samantha crept into the yard next door and picked up the trimmings from their tree. Theirs was too big for the apartment, so they’d chopped off branches and left them lying around. Samantha picked them all up and used wire to fix them together. Then she decorated it. That was our tree. It was the best tree.”

Michael was still. “You never told me this story. What did you decorate it with?”

The two women exchanged glances.

“Mom’s earrings,” Ella said. “We borrowed them.”

“Earrings? Very creative.”

“It was, but the point we are making is that even if our mother genuinely wanted to enter into the spirit of things, she wouldn’t know how. She doesn’t know how to do Christmas.”

“We could teach her.” Tab appeared without warning. “You always say you can learn anything if you try. We can teach her how to do Christmas. I’ve read about grandmothers in stories, and they seem like a fun thing to have.”

“Tab—”

“I’ve never had a grandmother. I think I’d like one. For Christmas.” She pirouetted back to the dollhouse leaving Ella staring after her, frustrated with herself and more confused than she’d been in her life before.

“How much did she hear? Did we say something we shouldn’t have said? I forget that she seems to have ears out on stalks. Now I feel bad. I’ve deprived her of a grandmother.”

“You deprived her of a whole lot of heartache and stress. Also, she still believes in Santa,” Samantha said. “One day she’ll thank you for it.”

She didn’t blame Samantha for being wary. She was wary, too. But she was also conflicted.

“It would be awful if this was a genuine attempt to heal what happened in the past and move on, and we ignored it.” She watched as Tab rearranged the beds in the dollhouse. “Maybe we should try a family Christmas.”

“We’re having a family Christmas,” Samantha said, “just without certain members of the family present. If you invite our mother, it will be just like all the other times.”

“But it won’t,” Ella said, “because Michael and Tab will be there.”

Michael nodded. “Also, we’ll be on neutral territory.”

“Which brings us back to the reason I want to kill you,” Samantha said. “Scotland. Why did you mention Scotland?”

“Because you’d been telling me about it, I suppose, and also because I was trying to put her off wanting to spend Christmas with us. You know she never takes time off over the holidays. I thought mentioning Scotland would be enough to have her running for the hills. Not the Scottish hills,” Ella added weakly, before she was silenced by her sister’s scowl.

“I was telling you that I wouldn’t be going to Scotland now, or at any point in the future.”

Ella was fascinated by the way Samantha managed to yell without raising her voice.

She glanced across to Tab, only to see she’d wandered to the shelves and was examining dollhouse furniture.

“Okay I shouldn’t have said it. I admit it, but it was the first thing that came into my head. And I had no idea she’d say yes. She didn’t at first—but then for some reason she changed her mind.”

“Yes.” Samantha frowned. “I didn’t know she’d been to Scotland before. Did you?”

“No. And that isn’t really relevant. It’s now that matters.”

“But—” Samantha shook her head. “Never mind. Forget it. It doesn’t matter what happened, or what she thinks—we’re not going to Scotland. If you recall, I said there was no way I could ever visit after I had phone sex with the owner.”

Ella winced. “Small ears hearing everything—do not say the s word or I am going to have to answer a whole lot of awkward questions I don’t want to have to answer for a few years yet.”

Michael opened his mouth and Samantha silenced him with a stare.

“Don’t ask.”