Christmas Forever

She thought of Lois and Marnie using some of their extra time during their slow shift to tidy up, or maybe Vanessa had done it during her cleaning. But then she heard voices coming from the living room and instantly realized who had instigated the tidy up.

She went into the living room, and there sat the culprit: Amy. Amy was so organized it was no surprise she’d immediately put their thanksgiving decorations away.

She wasn’t alone though. Sat on the couch beside her, by the lit fireplace, with Mogsy’s head resting in her lap, drinking what looked like cocoa with marshmallows in, was Patricia. Not only had Emily’s mom gotten a taste for marshmallows ever since her first experience of smores, she’d learned to appreciate the love of a smelly, moulting dog. And, more importantly, she’d stayed for the whole thanksgiving weekend. It was a miracle, as far as Emily was concerned, that she and her mom had spent three whole days together without killing one another. Things really did seem to be changing for the better. In fact, Emily was a little melancholy that her mom would be leaving today.

“Amy!” Chantelle cried when she saw Emily’s friend sat on the couch. “We’re allowed to decorate the inn for Christmas. Did you get the stuff?”

Emily frowned and looked at Daniel, perplexed. By his expression she could tell he was just as curiously amused as she was.

“Of course I did,” Amy replied with a grin.

She grabbed a large carrier bag from down the side of the couch, where it had been out of view. Emily could see sparkly silver fabric, glittery snowflakes, and plastic icicles poking out the top of the overstuffed bag.

“What’s all that?” she exclaimed. “You’ve been scheming! The two of you!”

She tickled Chantelle in the ribs and the little girl squealed. Then she wriggled away from Emily’s fingers and hurried over to Amy. She grabbed the bag and peered inside.

“This is so cool,” she told Amy. “Can we start now?”

Amy looked at Emily as if for approval.

“Don’t look at me,” Emily laughed, holding her hands up into truce position. “You two have clearly got plans!”

They both scurried into the corridor and began to string fairy lights across the ceiling and spray fake snow on the window panes. Emily watched them from the doorway, her shoulder resting against it. She felt a very strong sense of Christmas cheer.

“My back’s killing me,” Daniel said then, appearing behind her. “I’m going to take a nice long soak.”

“Good idea,” she said. “You rest up.”

Daniel was working so hard at the moment, trying to provide for the family. She didn’t want him getting an injury like his boss Jack had done recently. That would be a disaster. He needed to take care of himself.

He kissed her cheek, then went upstairs, passing Amy and Chantelle on the way.

“Come on, mommy!” Chantelle cried. “You have to help too!”

Emily had started to feel very tired at this late stage of her pregnancy. But she didn’t want to let Chantelle down. She looked over at Patricia, who was flicking through a design magazine whilst sipping her chocolate drink.

“Mom? Want to help too?”

Patricia looked surprised. “Oh. Well. I suppose I could.”

Emily smirked, quietly very pleased that her mom would join in. She turned back to Chantelle.

“We’re coming!”

Then she and Patricia went out into the hallway and searched through Amy’s bag of tricks. Emily took out some glittering tinsel and began winding it around the bannister of the staircase, whilst Patricia selected some sparkly material draped it artistically around the picture frames. It was such a wonderful moment for Emily, so full of peace and happiness.

“When are you getting married, Amy?” Chantelle asked as she affixed snowflakes to the walls with sticky tack.

“I haven’t set the date yet,” Amy told her, smiling to herself. “I can’t work out what season I want my wedding to be in. Or even what country.”

Chantelle’s eyes widened as though the thought of an overseas wedding had never even crossed her mind. “You could get married in Lapland! Reindeers and white snow!”

Amy laughed. “I was thinking more the Bahamas. Turtles… and white beach.”

“That sounds nice too,” Chantelle conceded.

“If you need any help planning it,” Emily said. “I’d be very happy to help. You were so great with my wedding, I’d love to return the favor.”

Amy looked touched. “Really, Em? That would be the best. But honestly, you’re the one who's got a ton of stuff to organize before I’m even ready to get married. You’ve got to give birth, for starters! And what about a babymoon? You’re running out of time.”

Emily laughed and shook her head. “Not you too! A babymoon? My doctor asked us if we were going on one. Is this a new thing?”

“What’s a babymoon?” Chantelle chimed in.

Amy looked shocked. “I can’t believe neither of you have heard of it. A babymoon is the last chance for the mom and dad to be to have a holiday before the demands of a newborn take up all their time.”

“I’ve never heard of anything so indulgent,” Patricia said with a snort.

Ignoring her mom, Emily noticed that Chantelle looked a little concerned about the prospect of her and Daniel leaving for a weekend away. She always had a wobble when they left her because her terrible beginning in life had taught her when people left, they didn’t necessarily come back home. It was such hard work trying to undo the destruction Sheila’s parenting had caused.

“Don’t worry, hun,” Emily told her. “I can’t fly anymore, so there wouldn’t really be much point.”

“Emily!” Amy cried, sounding incredulous. “The point is that you and Daniel get one last chance for a romantic trip together. Your lives are about to change forever. Don’t you want a last hurrah? It’s not like you’d have to go far. You could drive up to Quebec City. It’s beautiful there at this time of year.”

For the first time, Emily really began to consider whether a babymoon would be fun. Just her and Daniel, all the stresses of running their business and all the anxiety over giving birth left behind.

“You don’t think it’s cutting it a bit fine?” Emily said. “My due date is in three weeks.”

“And only, like, twenty percent of babies are born on their due dates,” Amy replied.

“You were late, by the way, Emily,” Patricia told her. “So was Charlotte. And so was I. If you’re anything like I was, she’ll be late. I was 42 weeks plus seven days with both of you.”

“No way!” Emily cried. She’d never been informed of this. “That sounds extremely uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” Patricia replied. “Your body knows what it wants. You have to trust it.”

“I didn’t even know you could go that late,” Amy said.

Patricia nodded. “In my day, you’d avoid being induced if you could, and trust that nature would do its thing. It’s more common than people realize. Some babies just take longer to bake.”

Amy and Chantelle laughed then, but Emily felt queasy at the thought. Pregnancy was hard! She didn’t want it to last any longer than need be! But maybe her mom had a good point. The older generations were much less pampered and fussy. They didn’t have babymoons or anything like that. Sometimes the practical, fuss-free way of doing things was better.

They finished up decorating the hallways and went into the dining room next, where they placed sparkly snowflakes on all the tables and replaced the fall themed centerpieces with winter ones. It looked beautiful, and Emily felt even more excited for Christmas.

But excitement wasn’t enough to stop her from yawning. The decorating work was rather strenuous and she just didn’t have anywhere near as much energy these days.

“I’m going to have to stop for a bit,” she confessed. “If I even attempt the ballroom I might fall asleep!”