“Margarita.”

“Good morning.”

“We didn’t know you were coming.”

“I know.”

Eventually she stepped aside.

Hugo appeared.

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

“I came because I want both of you to explain, looking at me, why I am not welcome here Christmas Eve.”

His eyes moved toward Carla.

That was my first answer.

Then Gabriel ran in.

“Grandma!”

My heart opened despite everything.

He started toward me with both arms open.

Carla stepped sideways.

“Gabriel, homework.”

“I just want to hug Grandma.”

“You can later.”

His face changed.

“Hi, mi amor,” I said.

“Hi, Grandma.”

“Finish your homework.”

He walked away slowly, looking back once.

I sat on the sofa I had bought them the previous year after Carla decided their old one didn’t match the house’s “direction.”

Carla sat across from me. Hugo settled into an armchair.

“I hope you understand,” Carla began, “this isn’t about making you feel unwanted.”

“Then it should be easy to explain.”

“My parents have specific traditions for Christmas Eve.”

“So do I.”

“They prefer a formal dinner.”

“I can use a fork.”

“That isn’t what I mean.”

“Then tell me what you mean.”

Hugo shifted.

“Mom.”

I raised one finger.

“No. Yesterday you made the call. Today I want Carla to explain the decision she apparently made.”

Carla crossed her legs.

“My parents are accustomed to a more formal environment.”

I waited.

“They lived in Paris for several years. They care about presentation. Multiple courses. Table settings. Conversation.”