Page 9 of Merry Mended Hearts
To write this new idea elbowing the corners of my mind and demanding release.
When I proposed getting away to write it, Mom and Dad had offered to give me my Christmas present early. Mom was in full support of a writing getaway. She’d suggested Jackson Hole, but that was too expensive. And I could tell my timeline bothered her—with my sister newly married and living so far away, Mom had mentioned that having me gone would feel too much like an empty nest.
Still, this was the only extended break I had away from my job at Halveics Wellness, where they offered essential oils, whole medicine alternatives, gentle cleaning products, and the like via phone and online orders.
I’d gone on plenty of writing trips with friends, but every time I’d gotten precious little actual writing done. While they’d been fun, the time was usually spent chatting instead of you know, writing.
That was why Mom and Dad agreed to my timeframe.
I pulled my notebook out of my bag and settled a little deeper onto the bed, resting my back against the wall as my phone rang.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, wondering why she was calling. I’d just told her I was good to go.
“Hi, hon. You got all settled in? They found a room?”
“Something like that,” I said.
“I’m so glad. And how’s the inn? Are you in love?”
“Absolutely. Montana and I are getting married.”
She missed the irony in my voice. “That’s good. So you’ll write what you need to and skedaddle on back home by Christmas, right?”
“Um…What?”
We’d gone over this. Today was Tuesday. My stay was booked for a week, and Christmas Day, Friday, happened to fall in the middle of that week. Mom knew that. She’d gone over the flight with me.
Maybe she just forgot?
“Mom, I’ll be gone for Christmas.”
“I know,” Mom said with resignation. “And you know I fully support what you’re doing. It’s just…I was kind of glad things hadn’t gone as planned. That maybe you’d come home early. It won’t be the same without you here. Uncle Mike will be here—he’ll wonder where you are.”
I loved my mom’s only brother, but she couldn’t be saying what I thought she was. My suspicions began to rise.
“Did you…deliberately not book me a room?”
Why would she do that? Why make such an expensive mistake on purpose?
“Of course not. I booked you that room, Gracie. I’m just saying Uncle Mike will be sad you’re not here, and I didn’t think of that when I agreed to this.”
“He sees me on social media, Mom.”
When I was little, Uncle Mike had been a human jungle gym, and then as I’d grown up, he’d gone from a fierce contender on Mario Kart to a shoulder to cry on. I hadn’t seen him in a few months, but I knew Uncle Mike wouldn’t care that much that I was gone.
“You know, it’s really too bad you left. He told me last night that he’s bringing his associate, that one I told you about. The one who just got divorced. Terry something.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Mom’s unexpected guilt trip was ruining my sudden relief.
“You know I’m like, stranded here, right?” I said.
“I know, but?—”
“This isn’t helping, Mom. I have no way to get back to West Hills.” Nor did I want to reschedule my flight if I didn’t have to. Not when I hadn’t done what I came here to do.
Sure, I wanted to be with my family for Christmas, but I saw them all the time as it was. This was my Christmas present. It had been on the verge of ruination.
Mom was ruining it all over again.