Page 6 of Check the Halls
Istare at the message as I take another bite of my turkey club, debating how to respond. Should I tell her how Derek “accidentally” locked Cheshire in a closet and that her beloved grandkitty retaliated by peeing on his four hundred dollar dress shoes? Or maybe how despite disclosing my allergy, Alyssa ordered me a salad with walnuts for lunch and now I’m worried that she may actually be trying to kill me? How about how a chance run-in with my ex-boyfriend resulted in me self-medicating with a pint of strawberry ice cream while listening toThis Townby Niall Horan on repeat?
Probably not.
Maddy: Great! Yours?
Maddy: Did you book your oil change?
One side effect of my dad dying suddenly from a heartattack when I was nineteen years old is that I now mother my mom more than she mothers me. I don’t mean to. Really, I don’t. But there was this brief period right after we lost him where Mom just kind of checked out.
My parents’ dynamic was balanced on my mother taking care of me and the household and my father taking care of literally everything else. He paid every bill and managed every account. For a few months after his death, Mom was so consumed by her grief she couldn’t absorb anything new. So I stepped up. And I kept stepping up. I handled everything with the estate, only relying on Mom for the occasional signature. I learned about everything from RRSPs and Dad’s pension to ensuring the house insurance and water bill were paid on time.
Mom: Yes. Booked the appointment to have my snow tires put on in November, too.
Maddy: Yaaaas Queen
My gaze flits to the framed picture of Mom and I on my desk. We’re tanned and smiling, arms linked and legs straddling our bicycles. Our annual weekend staycation in Cape Breton was this past May, but it feels like a lifetime ago.
I wonder if she’s getting enough calcium in her diet. If she’s up-to-date with her annual blood work and breast screening. Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
She’s fine, I tell myself. Judging by her social media, she’s got a much healthier social life than her only child. Almost daily Instagram posts chronicling book club, yogaclasses, pickleball, and paint nights lead me to believe she’s thriving without me.
Coming to the conclusion that your mom is not only your best friend but also much cooler than you is humbling for a thirty-year-old.
“Why aren’t you in the meeting?”
My head snaps up to meet Ivan’s perplexed expression. His head appears to be levitating as it peeks around my office door. Of all the employees on my team, Ivan has made me feel the most welcome. The rest of them seem more hesitant. Maybe they’re not sure about me as a leader. There are days when I’m not so sure myself.
“What meeting?” My eyes scan the calendar I have open on my desktop, confirming that I don’t have anything scheduled until my two-thirty call with the venue to discuss the floor plans.
“The emergency noon meeting Chanda called for management. Alyssa said she’d tell you.”
Of course she did.
I smile at him through gritted teeth as I stand and brush the crumbs from my fitted blouse and flared skirt. “Is it noon already?”
I keep the fake smile plastered to my face as I speed walk to the boardroom. I want to kick off my three-inch heels and sprint, but that would only make me even more flushed than I know I already am.
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I walk, seething at what appears to be another attempt by Alyssa to make me look bad. The woman has hated me since I made the fatalistic error of mispronouncing her name on my first day.
“It’sA-LES-SAH, notA-LIS-SAH,” she’d snapped.
Even though I apologized for my mistake and havemade sure to never repeat it, I seem to offend her every time I open my mouth. I’m Alyssa’s boss, but she’s been with the foundation for years and I only just started. I know that her behaviour towards me is unprofessional and I could go to Chanda, our CEO, but the last thing I want is for Chanda to think I can’t handle someone on my team.
I open the door to the boardroom and slip inside as quietly as possible. Everyone’s already seated, their heads turning in unison at my arrival like a choreographed dance. The only vacant seat is at the opposite end of the table and as I make my way there, I make eye contact with Chanda, mouthing a silent “sorry.”
Dressed in a sleek emerald-green pantsuit, long silver-streaked hair pulled back into a flawless low ponytail, she smiles at me. It’s warm and genuine, like her. Chanda Singh sits at the head of the long table because that’s where she belongs. She’s been the CEO of the Love and Light Foundation since she founded the organization in the late nineties. Now, in her late fifties, she’s one of the most respected business women in Canada.
Four years ago, Chanda launched the Festive Fellowship—a Christmas-themed fundraising initiative that runs from the beginning of October to the end of December. Last year, it raised more than five million dollars in three months for various children’s charities.
“As I was saying,” Alyssa sighs as I take my seat at the back of the room, “we’re running out of time. The gala is only three months away. We need to book Tyler Caine now.”
My nose wrinkles in distaste at the mention of the B-list celebrity.
“Book Tyler Caine for what?” I know asking the question makes me look like an idiot, but I need to know.
“To be our new ambassador now that Bruce Edwards is out,” Danny in finance says from beside me, not looking up from his phone.
“What happened to Bruce?” The CFL all-star has been booked as one of our Fellowship Ambassadors for months. Not only do the ambassadors host the largest event of the Festive Fellowship campaign, the Star of Christmas Gala, every year, but they also represent the foundation at the various promotional events leading up to it.
