Sylvia thought about ten arrangements sitting in a shop two days before Christmas, paid for by a decision she had never made.
Then she thought about the rehabilitation center where her friend Marjorie had spent three months after breaking her hip. Marjorie used to complain that the lobby looked loneliest at Christmas because every decoration seemed to remind patients who could not go home.
“Can you change the delivery address?” Sylvia asked.
Anita paused. “Yes, if it stays local.”
Sylvia gave her the rehabilitation center’s address.
“And remove Priscilla’s name from the card,” she said. “Put ‘For anyone who needs a little Christmas’ instead.”
When the call ended, Sylvia sat very still.
For the first time since the argument began, spending part of the six hundred dollars felt like her decision.
That difference was so simple it almost made her laugh.
Dean called at eleven.
“We moved Christmas,” he said.
“To your house?”
“Sort of. We cut the guest list. My sister offered folding chairs. Uncle Raymond is bringing ham. Cousin Leah is doing potatoes. Nobody needs centerpieces.”
Sylvia heard weariness in his voice, but something else too. Humility, perhaps.
“And Priscilla?”
“She is angry.”
“That is allowed.”
“She thinks you embarrassed her.”
“I did not invite anyone to watch her use my card.”
“I know.”
There was a pause.
“Mom, I told everyone what happened.”
Sylvia gripped the coffee mug a little tighter. “Everything?”
“That we planned the party without your approval, that charges were put on your card without permission, and that you were not canceling Christmas. You were simply not hosting it.”
“How did they respond?”
“Mostly by asking what they could bring.”
Sylvia closed her eyes.
For years she had imagined that if she stopped providing, the family machine would stop moving. Instead, people had simply picked up dishes, borrowed chairs, adjusted plans, and kept going.
It was strangely freeing to discover she had never been the only thing holding everyone together.
Dean cleared his throat. “Aunt Marie also asked why we had twenty-three people coming when you only have twelve dining chairs.”
