PART 2 — CHRISTMAS WITHOUT PERMISSION

Amanda tried to dismiss my concerns.

“You’re making this much bigger than it is,” she said. “The children would rather stay with you anyway.”

“It is not a small thing to use me as free childcare without even asking.”

“We always include you in family plans.”

“The only time you include me is when you need something.”

Her mouth opened, but I continued.

“When was the last time you visited because you wanted to spend time with me? When did you last ask how I was feeling? When did any of you remember my birthday without being reminded?”

She had no answer.

Instead, she asked the question that revealed what mattered most to her.

“What are we supposed to do with eight children?”

“They are your children and Robert’s children,” I replied. “That is for you to solve.”

Amanda pulled out her phone.

“I’m calling Robert. He will talk some sense into you.”

“My decision will not change.”

The next morning, Paula arrived at eight.

Her car was loaded with beach chairs, snacks, and everything we needed for the trip.

I placed my suitcase in the trunk and watched my home disappear in the side mirror.

My phone rang repeatedly during the first hour.

After the tenth call, I turned it off.

Paula glanced at me.

“Are you all right?”

“I will be.”

We arrived at the coastal town that afternoon.

It was small and beautiful, with pastel houses, cobblestone streets, and the smell of salt drifting through the air.

The rented cottage had two bedrooms and wide windows facing the ocean.

When I entered my room and saw the water stretching toward the horizon, something tight inside me began to loosen.

I briefly turned my phone on.

There were fifty-three missed calls and twenty-seven messages.

Amanda wrote:

The children are upset because Grandma disappeared. Is this what you wanted?

Robert wrote:

I called the grocery store. You canceled everything. I never imagined you could be this selfish.

Martin wrote:

Amanda is falling apart. Come home and fix this.

Every message asked me to repair the consequences of decisions they had made without me.

For once, I did not feel guilty.

I turned the phone off again.

On Christmas Eve, Paula and I visited the town market.

We walked slowly, without a schedule or list of things other people expected us to buy.

I chose a simple bracelet woven in shades of blue and green.

It was not expensive.