Mrs. Bigman, a woman whose small stature did not match her name, had brought in her receipt with the tracking numbers on it, insisting her son’s Christmas cookies hadn’t gotten to him. Molly had double-checked for her and assured her that the package had been delivered to the address she’d printed on her package.
“Is it possible a neighbor picked it up?” Molly had suggested.
“Who would do that?” Mrs. Bigman had demanded.
Who knew?
“You are so...careless. And unconcerned!” Mrs. Bigman had ranted.
“I tried to reassure her that I was concerned, but I couldn’t follow the package all the way to Antelope, California,” Molly finished. “Maybe next time I’ll suggest she stick me in a big old box, ship me to her son’s house and let me wait on the porch to catch the cookie thief.”
Ava snickered and took a sip of her coffee. “Don’t do it. She might take you up on it.”
“I don’t have to worry about that. Next year she’s going to use FedEx.”
“I guess she never sawCast Away,” Ava said, and they both snickered.
“I understand people’s frustration,” Molly said. “I’d be unhappy, too, if a present I sent someone didn’t reach them.” Still, being held responsible for every hiccup and mishap was frustrating and exhausting.
Which was probably why, when the pressure was off, she had a tendency to nod off. After opening the present from her granddaughter—another T-shirt that extolled her grandmotherly virtues—and a jar of her favorite body butter from her daughter, and settling in to watchThe Polar Express, she felt her eyelids getting heavy.
“Grandma, you’re missing it!” Her granddaughter gave her a nudge that had her waking up with a snort.
Molly shot a guilty glance in her daughter’s direction to see if Ava had noticed. Of course, she had. But this time she wasn’t frowning in disapproval. She looked worried.
“Maybe you need a different job, Mom,” she said.
“Oh, honey, it’s too late for that. I’m too many years in.”
Trapped in a job she’d burned out on. There was a depressing thought.Just a few more years to retirement, she reminded herself. Maybe, if she could find a way to lose the grumpy Grinch vibes that invaded her postal kingdom every year, it wouldn’t feel like a life sentence.
She struggled to keep her eyes open for the rest of the movie, and after some hot chocolate, woke up enough to play a game of Sorry! with the girls. Then it was time to go home, take a hot bath and hope she didn’t fall asleep in the tub and drown.
“Merry Christmas,” Ava said, giving her a hug and a kiss, her earlier irritation forgotten. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you more,” Molly replied, then repeated the same routine with Paisley.
She smiled as she drove back to her little house in Manette, one of Bremerton’s favorite neighborhoods. The holiday season had a way of grinding her down, but all those little pieces of her that were left sure enjoyed spending the time with her girls.
She did feel badly about not getting around to making the bonbons with Paisley. They’d been such a mother-daughter tradition when Ava was growing up.
But darn it all, Ava could start that tradition with her daughter herself. Ava was busy, but Ava was still young. Molly was...worn out.
She managed to stay awake for her soak in the tub, then crawled into bed, her cat Marlow jumping up to snuggle at her feet. Ah, warm covers and a purring cat—the perfect ending to a perfect day.
And tomorrow she had to go back to work.
Her smile dropped away. Why on earth had she allowed that thought to come into her mind?
“The holiday rush is over,” she reminded herself.
But the Grinches and Scrooges would still be around, waiting to find a way to make her New Year miserable.
Don’t even think it.
Too late. She had, and she paid for it in her dreams.
There she was, back at work, dressed in red onesie pajamas and a Santa hat. The look was not a flattering one. It showed every roll and fat bubble.
