Chapter 6: The Woman at the Door
The door opened.
Amber stepped inside.
She wasn't wearing a coat.
Her hair was wet with melting snow, and her face was pale.
She looked at Greg.
Then at me.
Then at the paper on the kitchen table.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Amber closed the door behind her.
“So,” she said quietly.
Greg stood.
“Amber.””
“You showed her.””
“I needed to.””
“You promised me.””
“I promised not to lie to my mother.””
“You promised me you'd handle this.””
I watched them from the other side of the table.
The house suddenly felt too small.
Amber walked toward us.
“Give me the paper.””
Greg didn't move.
“Greg.””
“No.””
Her eyes widened.
He had never said no to her like that before.
At least not in front of me.
“What did you say?””
“I said no.””
She stared at him.
Then she laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“After everything I've done for you?””
I stood.
“Amber, let's slow down.””
“No.””
She turned toward me.
“You want to know why I wrote the list?””
“Yes.””
“Because I knew you'd do this.””
“Do what?””
“Turn one Christmas into a referendum on our entire marriage.””
I shook my head.
“I didn't ask Greg to bring me this.””
“You didn't have to.””
She pointed at the paper.
“You see this? This was supposed to help us establish boundaries.””
“Boundaries are one thing.””
“You don't get to decide what happens in my family.””
I looked at her.
“Neither do you.””
The sentence surprised all three of us.
Amber stared at me.
I continued.
“Greg is your husband. Ella and Sam are your children. I'm their grandmother. Nobody owns the others.””
Her lips pressed together.
“You think this is about ownership?””
“I think it's about control.””
Greg stepped forward.
“Mom.””
“No.””
I looked at him.
“You wanted me to understand. I'm trying.””
Amber crossed her arms.
“You have no idea what it's like living with someone whose mother is always there.””
I frowned.
“Always?””
“You call every day.””
“I call once or twice a week.””
“You send things.””
“Cookies.””
“Clothes.””
“For the children.””
“Books.””
“They ask me for them.””
“You make decisions.””
“What decisions?””
Amber hesitated.
“You encouraged Ella to join the art club.””
“Ella told me she wanted to.””
“You told Sam he could sleep over whenever he wanted.””
“He's six. I said if you and Greg were comfortable.””
“You're proving my point.””
“What point?””
“That you think your intentions excuse everything.””
I looked at Greg.
“Do you believe that?””
He didn't answer.
Amber turned to him.
“Tell her.””
Greg's jaw tightened.
“Tell her what?””
“That she crosses boundaries.””
He looked at me.
“You do sometimes.””
The words hurt.
Not because they were entirely false.
Because they came from him.
I sat down.
“All right.””
Amber seemed surprised.
I folded my hands.
“Tell me.””
Greg looked uncomfortable.
“You show up without calling.””
“When?””
“Last summer.””
“I brought the kids home because you were both late.””
“You stayed for dinner.””
“You invited me.””
“I know.””
He sighed.
“And you sometimes make plans with the kids before asking us.””
I nodded.
“I'll stop.””
Amber blinked.
“That's it?””
“Yes.””
“You're not going to argue?””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because if I've crossed a line, I can step back.””
I looked at Greg.
“But stepping back doesn't mean disappearing.””
Amber's expression hardened.
“That is exactly what needs to happen.””
Greg turned toward her.
“Amber.””
“You heard her.””
“No.””
“You said she crosses boundaries.””
“I said sometimes.””
“And now she's acting like the victim.””
I stood again.
“I am not asking anyone to feel sorry for me.””
I picked up the paper.
“I am asking one question.””
Amber waited.
“Why does your plan say you want to reduce my involvement with the children?””
“Because it's healthier.””
“For whom?””
“For everyone.””
“That's not an answer.””
She looked toward the Christmas tree.
“Your relationship with them is too intense.””
I almost laughed.
“They're children.””
“Exactly.””
“What does that mean?””
“They need their parents.””
“They have their parents.””
“They don't need another mother.””
The room went silent.
I looked at Greg.
He was staring at Amber.
Then at me.
“I never tried to be their mother,” I said.
Amber's eyes flashed.
“You don't have to try.””
I took a slow breath.
“Do you know what Ella asked me yesterday?””
Amber said nothing.
“She asked when the real Christmas was.””
Amber looked away.
“She wasn't criticizing you.””
“I know.””
“She wasn't choosing me.””
“I know.””
“She was confused because she could feel the adults making rules around her.””
Amber's face softened for just a moment.
Then the softness disappeared.
“She's nine.””
“Yes.””
“She doesn't understand these things.””
“Maybe.””
I folded the paper.
“But she understands when someone leaves.””
Greg looked at me.
I could see tears in his eyes.
Amber noticed them too.
Her expression changed.
“Greg…”
He shook his head.
“No.””
“What?””
“You keep saying this is about Mom.””
“It is.””
“No.””
He stepped away from her.
“This is about you.””
Amber stared.
“What does that mean?””
“You don't just want boundaries.””
“I do.””
“You want her gone.””
Amber's mouth opened.
No words came.
Greg continued.
“You've been talking about moving for months.””
“Because I want a better life.””
“You've been talking to your parents.””
“So?””
“You've been looking at houses.””
“So?””
“And you already picked one.””
Amber went still.
I looked at Greg.
“You knew?””
“I found the emails.””
Amber's face drained.
“What emails?””
“From the realtor.””
Her eyes flicked toward me.
Then back to Greg.
“You went through my phone?””
“I saw them on the family computer.””
“You had no right.””
“You had no right to plan a move without me.””
“I was researching.””
“You put in an offer.””
Silence.
I felt the room tilt.
Amber whispered, “It wasn't final.””
Greg stared at her.
“You put in an offer?””
“I was going to tell you.””
“When?””
“When everything was ready.””
He laughed bitterly.
“So I could just wake up one morning and move forty miles away?””
“I was trying to give the kids a better environment.””
“What environment?””
Amber looked at me.
“This one.””
I knew what she meant.
My house.
The fire hall.
The church.
The town where Greg had grown up.
The town where Leonard's plaque hung on a wall.
She wanted all of it behind them.
But then Greg said something that changed the room.
“It isn't just the move.””
Amber looked at him.
“What else?””
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“I found something else.””
“What?””
“A message from the realtor.””
Amber's face went white.
Greg read it aloud.
“‘Amber confirmed that once the custody schedule is adjusted, the grandparents' visits can be reduced accordingly.’”
My heart stopped.
I looked at Amber.
“Custody schedule?””
She said nothing.
Greg stared at her.
“What did you file?””
“I didn't file anything.””
“Then why is a realtor talking about custody?””
“I don't know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I said I don't know.””
Greg stepped toward her.
“What were you planning?””
Amber backed away.
“Nothing.””
Then the phone in Greg's hand rang.
Unknown number.
He looked at the screen.
Amber's face changed.
“Don't answer that.””
Greg looked at her.
“Why?””
She didn't respond.
The phone kept ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Greg answered.
“Hello?””
A woman's voice came through the speaker.
I couldn't make out every word, but I heard enough to know she was crying.
“Is this Gregory?””
“Yes. Who is this?””
“My name is Laura Bennett.””
Amber gripped the back of a chair.
Greg looked at her.
Laura continued.
“I've been trying to reach you for two weeks.””
“Why?””
“Because I worked with Amber at the law office.””
Amber whispered, “Greg, hang up.””
He didn't.
Laura's voice trembled.
“There is something you need to know about the documents she asked me to prepare.””
Greg's face went pale.
“What documents?””
Laura paused.
“The ones concerning your house.””
I looked at my son.
“What documents?””
Laura took a breath.
“And your children.””
Amber suddenly lunged for the phone.
Greg stepped back.
“Don't touch me.””
Laura's voice came through again.
“Greg, whatever you do, do not sign anything she puts in front of you.””
I stared at Amber.
She was no longer angry.
She looked frightened.
May you like
Then Laura said the words that made every other Christmas rule suddenly seem small.
“Because the house isn't the only thing she was trying to take.””
