Chapter 36

I carefully hang my keys on the hook by the door from my garage into the house and head inside, but I only take three steps before stopping dead in my tracks. There's literally a box blocking my entrance, no matter which way I turn.

“Trudy?” I call out.

“Aunt May May?” a small voice comes from behind a box blocking my way into the kitchen.

“Hey Troy. Any chance you could find your mom and let her know I can't get inside my own house?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Troy takes off skipping, which I know, because I hear his sneakers squeaking on the tile, but also because once he moves into the living room, his happily bobbing head bounces into view.

I try shifting a triple high box stack while I'm waiting, but it's no good. I'm about to give up and circle around to my own front door, when I see Trudy's dishwater blonde hair over the pile I couldn't budge.

“I need to work out more,” I say.

“I'm sorry.” Trudy starts shifting boxes out of the way. “I was going to put most of this in storage, but then the storage unit I called tried to triple their price.”

Any increase would be more than she could afford.

“That's okay. I have lots of room in my garage and even more in my attic. It's probably better this way. You and I can sort through all of your stuff and figure out what you want to keep and what needs to be donated, and we can do it at our leisure.”

Trudy smiles. “Thanks.”

A knock from the front door reminds me I ordered pizza on my way home. I've been eating too much pizza lately, but I do not have the energy, nor apparently the space, to make anything tonight.

“Umm, if you can run grab that, I'll start shifting some of these into the garage. We can go through them all and repack what you're not going to move inside.”

We spend the rest of the night tag teaming the unpacking, watching Troy and cleaning up, but as soon as Troy's in bed, she pounces.

“And?” she asks. “Did you break up with him?”

My stomach turns and I collapse on the couch. The feeling of cotton balls stuffed in my throat keeps me from talking, so I simply nod.

She sits next to me. “So right after you broke up, you got Foster's wedding announcement, right?”

“How did you know?”

She shakes her head. “It's the way stuff like this always happens. Remember the time Miss Fitzgibbons cut my bangs two inches too short?”

I stifle my laugh. “The day before senior prom. You thought your life was over.”

“This will be funny in a few years, too. If you don't want to use me as your plus one, you can always beg off and skip the wedding entirely.”

I rub my face with both hands. “It's not even just the wedding. I got final confirmation today that United Way won't renew the Sub-for-Santa charter, which means this is my last year.”

Trudy puts an arm around my shoulder. “It's amazing you've done this for so long, but maybe it's the right time to move on.”

Is she right? Should I give up on all the kids who need a little cheer, the kids like me who just need something to hope for? When I speak, my words come out very softly for some reason. “Am I using Sub-for-Santa as a way to avoid forming lasting relationships with children in my life?”

Trudy narrows her eyes at me. “Who said that?”

I shrug. “Me, I said it. Why would you think someone else would say that?”

Trudy scowls. “It was this Luke guy, wasn't it?”

“I might have attacked him and said he's doing his children a disservice by moving them several times a year. It could even have gotten personal. I might have impugned the trailer.”

“That sounds kind of harsh, and unlike you,” Trudy says.

“Someone needed to tell him, because Amy hates it and she loves him too much to say anything.”

“Now you're advocating for his kids. You form meaningful relationships with anyone you've been around for thirty seconds. And you've been the best aunt in the world to Troy.”

I lick my lips. “I wasn't fishing for compliments. I really want to know.”

Trudy groans. “No, Mary, I don't think you're avoiding meaningful relationships with anyone, but you definitely are avoiding becoming a mother, and that's your prerogative.”

I've never asked my sister this, because I didn't want it to sound critical. I don't want her to think I'm judging her, but I need to know. “After how Mom and Dad raised us, how could you have ever wanted a child? Don't get me wrong, Troy is wonderful, but aren't you scared?”

“Kids are so hard,” Trudy says, “and the hard things about being his mom change every day. It's like he's quicksand. In a diaper. Slipping through my fingers one minute, and sucking me under the next.”

“Gee,” I say, “still not getting why you wanted to have a baby.”

Trudy leans her head on my shoulder. “We both had horrible parents. The worst I've ever seen, maybe. One left us and never looked back. The other drank himself into a stupor every day and didn't even notice when we left. But I had something better than them. I had an older sister who took care of me better than they could. I won't make up a bunch of fortune cookie truths about how fulfilling it is to be a parent, and how wonderful Troy is when he's sweet, and how I love and hate raising a mini-me. Because I don't think parenting is about me. In fact, I think the main reason I needed a child in my life was to learn to serve someone else. Mom and Dad were selfish. They only cared about what they wanted, their own desires and pains.”

“Dad's sick,” I say.

She nods. “Yeah, he's an alcoholic, and that's hard to figure out, right? Is he selfish, or sick? But at least that first time he picked up that bottle instead of taking care of us, he chose himself.”

I sigh. “And I don't want to be a mom because it will be easier for me, so I'm like Mom and you aren't.”

Trudy jerks back. “Exactly the opposite. I was super selfish when we were growing up.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You weren't selfish before you had Troy. I was there, remember?”

Trudy laughs. “That's sweet of you to say, but wrong. I spent all my time doing whatever I wanted. Work, play, entertainment. Now I break my back for this little demon child, and I'd do so much more if he needed it. The real reason I could have a child is that Mom and Dad weren't my examples. They were, and are, selfish to the core. No, my example, the person who gave me hope I could do better was my surrogate mother. The best mom I've ever met.” A tear pools in Trudy's eye.

“Who?” Maybe she means Miss Fitzgibbons of the horrible haircuts. Or her favorite fifth grade teacher who kept going to all her plays long after she left elementary school.

Trudy rolls her eyes. “You're so dense sometimes. I'm talking about you, Mary. You were the best mother anyone could ask for. It wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't right, but you're still my fill-in-mom. You're still my model of what I one day hope to become if I try really hard.”

“You're not my daughter,” I say. “I've just been a good sister.”

“Fine,” Trudy says. “Then you've shown me what family should do. All I'm saying is, you don't need to have kids, because you're already the most selfless person I know.”

“Actually that reminds me,” I say. “I wired the money for the clinical trial for Troy to the hospital today, so he should be fine to begin tomorrow, like we planned.”

Trudy gives me a big hug, and it was totally worth the expense, knowing she's okay, knowing Troy gets his best chance.

The next two days pass in a blur, between unpacking, wrapping, checking in on families on either end, and coordinating the details of taking over for Shauna.

I'm dressing for my company holiday party, when my phone bings. I pick it up. It's a message from Luke.

-AMY HAS BEEN INSISTING I TELL YOU THAT YOU'RE STILL INVITED TO COME DROP OFF GIFTS WITH US ON CHRISTMAS EVE. SAT @ NOON.

My heart flip flops. I dumped him on Sunday, and I know three days isn't a long time, but it feels like forever. I miss him, and I want to beg him to come with me tonight, and to the wedding tomorrow. I want to see his red ribbon cutting, and play with his kids, and tell them how amazing it is that their dad made that building possible.

Trudy and Addy were right. I'm way too invested in this.

-I APPRECIATE THE INVITE. I'D LOVE TO COME, BUT THERE'S ALWAYS A LOT OF LAST MINUTE DETAILS, AND I HAVEN'T QUITE FINISHED MY OWN SHOPPING YET. I'LL TEXT YOU IF BY SOME MIRACLE I CAN MAKE IT.

I shove my phone in my purse and walk into the mostly clean living room. “How do I look?” I spin in a circle for Trudy and Troy.

“Amazing!” Trudy says.

“Sparkly,” Troy says.

I'm wearing a dark green business suit, but my camisole underneath is red with sequins. I don't wear them together usually, but it's Christmas. And as Troy pointed out, it's sparkly. Much like a child, I love sparkly things.

Trudy gives me a big hug, and before she lets go, she whispers, “I hope you love this new promotion, but I think maybe you accepted it for me. I'm not sure why exactly, but I promise I'll pay you back for what you've given up one day.”

“Having you in my life is my payback,” I say. “I love you.”