I thought I was helping an elder woman reunite with her family for Thanksgiving. However, by the evening’s end, her secret intentions disrupted my plans and showed truths I didn’t expect. It was Thanksgiving Eve, and the city was bathed in cheerful lights and laughter rang from everywhere. People filled the streets, the spirit of the holidays was in the air, yet all I felt was loneliness. As I wandered, I noticed a shop display of delicate glass ornaments painted with wintry scenes.
“Mom always adored those,” I thought to myself. Every year, she and I would choose one for our tree, drink hot cocoa, and watch classic films. But this year was different. It was just me.
Then I saw her, an elderly woman struggling through the snow, dragging a heavy suitcase. Something in me compelled me to help, and I approached her.
“Do you need any assistance, ma’am?” I asked.
Relief washed over her face as she looked at me. “Oh, bless you, dear. I’m Edie. I… came to surprise my daughter, Melody, for Thanksgiving. It’s been so many years since I last saw her.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I replied, smiling warmly. “Would you like me to accompany you?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, yes, that would be divine.”
We walked together, Edie leaning gently on my arm. I felt a sense of purpose, even if just for a brief moment.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a call from Arthur, my boss. I sighed, hesitating.
“You ought to take that, dear,” Edie suggested, nodding at my phone.
“It’s just my boss,” I replied, uneasily. “He hardly ever calls for anything pleasant.”
Edie chuckled. “Bosses rarely do, do they?”
“He might want me to do something absurd like buy a Christmas tree or decorate his home,” I mused.
“On Thanksgiving Eve?” Edie’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He does sound demanding.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, silencing the call. “But I’d rather help you tonight.”
“Thank you, dear. Melody will be so surprised.”
“Where does she live?” I asked, shifting the suitcase to my other arm.
“Oh, just down a few roads,” she said, unsure. “Or maybe the other direction?”
“That’s okay, Edie. We’ll find it together.”
***
As we pressed on, Edie suddenly stopped, her grip on my arm firm.
“Oh dear, I nearly forgot,” she said. “I can’t go to Melody’s empty-handed. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Of course. Let’s find something she’ll love.”
We spotted a little shop nearby, its windows glowing with festive lights and charming displays.
Inside, every shelf was brimming with lovely items – cozy scarves, trinkets, each more enchanting than the last. Edie’s eyes sparkled with wonder as she perused, paying careful attention to each item.
Arthur’s name appeared again on my phone, his text messages more impatient by the minute. Edie noticed.
“Your boss again? Maybe he’s feeling lonely too, tonight. We all are.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s rarely sympathetic. Likely wants me at the office. But it can wait.”
Edie nodded gently. “A thoughtful gift is important.”
She studied a beautiful ceramic angel, a small music box, yet nothing seemed right.
Finally, she chose a delicate glass ornament beautifully painted with a snowy landscape. “How about this?” she asked, admiring it closely. “Do you like it?”
My heart softened, reminded of cozy winter nights from my childhood at the sight of the tiny painted forest.
“I love it. Ornaments with such detail bring back holiday memories with my mom. We’d find one for the tree every year.”
Edie seemed to ponder this. “Then let’s buy two,” she announced, offering me one. “One for you and one for Melody.”
“Oh, Edie, I couldn’t possibly…”
She brushed aside my protest. “Nonsense. These little gestures… They keep our hearts warm, don’t they?”
She placed the ornament in my hand. I was unexpectedly touched.
“Thank you, Edie.”
Arthur’s calls came again, interrupting my thoughts.
“We’d better get going,” I told Edie, gently steering her towards the cashier. “I, uh, have to get to work soon.”
“Of course, dear,” Edie said knowingly.
As we left the shop, I felt a comforting warmth from the small glass ornament, like a tiny beacon of hope.
***
Arriving at the pointed-out house, Edie had a quiver in her hand as she held the gift bag. I hoped her reunion would be as joyful as she envisioned.
“Here we are,” I said, offering a reassuring smile. “Are you ready?”
Edie nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh, yes, dear. Melody will be so shocked.”
We approached the door, and I rang the bell.
A young woman answered, confusion etched on her face. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Edie stepped forward, her voice quivering with eagerness. “Melody, dear! It’s Mom! I surprised you for Thanksgiving.”
The woman shook her head gently. “I’m sorry, but… my mom’s inside. I think you have the wrong place.”
My heart sank witnessing Edie’s expression change from joy to bewilderment and then guilt.
“Oh… I must be mistaken,” Edie muttered, retreating.
The lady gave us a compassionate glance before closing the door. I turned to Edie, the truth dawning on me.
“Edie,” I asked softly, “you don’t actually have a daughter named Melody here, do you?”
She averted eye contact, shame narrowing her features. My phone rang again, Arthur’s name illuminating the screen. This time, I answered.
“Fiona, get back to the office, now,” Arthur’s voice cracked sharply. “Or consider this your last working day.”
Anger simmered under my skin. Frustration grew at Arthur’s incessant demands and letdown from Edie’s false pretense. The looming threat of job loss hung heavy. I looked at Edie, then to the street and decided.
“Let’s go, Edie,” I urged, returning to the car. “I need to return to work.”
The drive back was silent, her deception weighing on us both. I felt tricked, played upon.
Arthur awaited our arrival, irritation flushing his face red.
“Decided to show up, finally?” he jeered. “Do you find this job a joke? Ignoring my calls?”
“I was helping someone,” I explained, attempting calmness. “It seemed important.”
Arthur scoffed dismissively. “Helping? This isn’t charity work, Fiona. You’re dismissed — clear out your desk.”
The shock reverberated through me. A telling-off was expected, but this was harsh. While gathering my things, unexpected tranquility crept in. I wouldn’t let him dictate my life any longer.
Noticing Edie drift into Arthur’s office, inspecting his desk ornaments, irritation peaked, and I approached.
“Edie, stop. I tried to assist you, and you lied. Was all of this just a trick?”
Her face softened, hand reaching to touch my arm, but I recoiled. Sadness danced in her eyes, though right then, it didn’t sway me.
“I’m calling you a cab,” I muttered, stepping back.
Edie entered the taxi quietly in ten minutes, casting a final glance my way, but I turned from it, disappointment a heavy cloak upon me.
***
A return home ushered in solitude, Thanksgiving now looming as an ominous void rather than a warm gathering. No meals prepared, no table set, and with employment unstable, everything felt uncertain.
I reflected on Edie when her lie came to mind. Not an opportunist, just lonely. We were both alone, longing for a festive reconciliation on a day accentuating absence like none other.
Why had I overlooked it? Why dismiss her due to my anger?
A knock snapped my reverie. Not expecting visitors, I opened the door to find Arthur holding the ornament from earlier.
“Arthur? What brings you here?”
He turned the ornament, catching the light on the painted snowy forest.
“I found this on my desk,” he began. “Didn’t expect such a small thing to… resonate with me. Wanted to thank you and apologize for how I acted.”
Stunned, I managed a nod. Arthur looked down, awkwardness unraveling him.
“Guess I’ve no Thanksgiving plans. Realized spending it alone isn’t something anyone should endure.”
“Want to join me for dinner?”
His smile was tentative, and I realized what he was hinting at.
“I intended to visit Edie, the lonely lady I met today. She might be alone this evening too.”
“Then we should go,” he suggested, a warmth in his voice.
***
We arrived at Edie’s, warmth enveloping us upon entering. The aroma of dishes had a homely feel, festive and inviting.
Photos lined the walls — her late husband, a young girl I assumed was her daughter, showcasing a tapestry of shared love and life. Edie’s smile welcomed us, a glint of tears in her eyes.
“Didn’t expect visitors tonight,” she confessed. “It was always my daughter’s favorite holiday.”
Arthur gently touched her shoulder. “Then let’s make it memorable. For her.”
Gathered around Edie’s table, she pointed at my glass ornament.
“These are for you and the caller. We all need a reminder we’re not alone.”
I met Arthur’s gaze, a newfound softness reflecting in his eyes. That night, the air felt shifted, our trio finding the much-needed connection that had been elusive.
That Thanksgiving, laughter gathered under Edie’s roof, memories formed none of us wished to forget.
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This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.
