* "Leave the eight children at mamma's. She has nothing else to do. That way, we go to the hotel and finally enjoy a quiet Christmas. »*
Célia remained frozen in place, her cup in her hands, the words slowly imprinted. Robert, his son, and his wife had already booked a resort. Amanda and her husband, a hotel facing the sea. And she would take care of the eight grandchildren, prepare for New Year's Eve, manage the restless nights and chaotic mornings... without anyone having asked him the question.
* "Mom has already paid for the meal and the presents. All you have to do is come back on the evening of the 25th, have dinner, unpack the packages and leave. »*
Perfect. For them.
When generosity becomes a given
Celia adored her grandchildren with all her being. But as she went to sit on the edge of her bed, she let her gaze slide over the family photos hanging on the wall. On almost all of them: she was holding an infant, taking a dish out of the oven, arranging the decorations in the background. Always present. Rarely really recognized.
Memories came back on their own. The previous Christmas: two whole days of cooking, children to manage until after midnight, parents leaving early "because they had things to do". His birthday? Amanda called back three days later. Robert sent a text message two weeks later. No bouquet, no passage.
