I arrived at my son’s house on Christmas Eve just before dinner. I carried two bags in my hands, one with gifts for my granddaughter, one with the pastries I made that morning. Snow was falling hard, but I walked up the driveway steady and calm.
I knocked on the door and waited. Sam opened it a second later. He didn’t smile.
He didn’t say, “Merry Christmas.” He didn’t even move out of the way. He just stared at the bags in my hands like they were trash I brought to the wrong house.
“You’re early,” he said.
“I didn’t want to keep anyone waiting,” I answered.
“Merry Christmas.”
He stepped aside without a word. I walked in. The house was loud with chatter from Clarissa’s family.
Music played. Lights blinked on the tree. But the moment I stepped inside, the noise felt distant.
I felt like a stranger walking into someone else’s celebration.
Clarissa sat on the couch with her phone up, taking selfies in front of the Christmas tree. Her dress sparkled under the lights. She didn’t even look at me at first.
When she finally did, she nodded once, quick, dismissive, and went back to adjusting her hair.
I set the bags down and took off my gloves. Then I heard footsteps running fast.
“Grandma.”
Mia ran straight toward me. She hugged me tight, burying her face in my coat.
I held her with one arm and touched her hair. At least one person in that house was happy to see me.
“I missed you,” she said.
“I missed you too,” I whispered.
Before I could say more, Clarissa called out from the couch, “Mia, honey, let Grandma breathe. She just got here.”
Mia stepped back, but stayed close to me.
I walked toward the dining room and froze. There were 10 seats at the table, all taken, plates set, glasses filled, napkins folded, but not a single chair for me. They had planned an entire dinner without leaving space for the woman who raised the man hosting it.
I looked at Sam.
He avoided my eyes. I placed the pastries on the counter. I reached for Mia’s gift to put it near the tree, and the second it touched the table, Sam pushed his chair back.
The sound cracked through the room. He stood. His face shifted from annoyance to something sharper.
“Mom, no,” he said loudly.
“Stop! Don’t put that there.”
Everyone went silent. Clarissa’s family turned their heads.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
