My Bio Mom Tried To Sabotage My Trip To Japan By Giving Me The Wrong Airport Terminal. She Didn’t Realize My Stepdad And Brothers Would Choose Me Over Her. Aitah For Refusing To Forgive Her Until She Went To Therapy?

Holidays and Healing

When October came around, Tom suggested we do a family costume theme for trick-or-treating with Bobby. He threw out a few ideas at dinner, and surprisingly, Linda agreed right away. She even helped us brainstorm costume ideas and went shopping with us to find the pieces we needed.

I could tell she was doing it more to make Frank and the boys happy than because she actually wanted to include me, but at least she was making the effort. We ended up going as characters from this old movie Frank loved, and Linda got really into finding the perfect accessories for everyone’s costumes.

The night of trick-or-treating, we all got dressed up and headed out into the neighborhood. Bobby was excited because this was the first year he got to go out later with the older kids instead of doing the early trick-or-treating for little kids. We walked from house to house, and Bobby’s candy bag got heavier and heavier.

At one house, a neighbor we’d seen around but didn’t really know opened the door and immediately started gushing about our costumes. She said it was so lovely to see a family that got along so well and that it was especially nice to see a step-family where everyone seemed to genuinely like each other. Linda’s smile got really tight and forced, and I could see the muscles in her neck tense up.

But she didn’t say anything to contradict the neighbor or make some comment about me not really being part of the family. She just thanked the neighbor for the compliment and moved on to the next house. Before Japan, Linda would have found some way to exclude me from that compliment or clarify that I wasn’t really her daughter.

The fact that she kept quiet felt like progress, even if it was uncomfortable for her. When November rolled around, Frank announced at dinner one night that Thanksgiving was coming up and we needed to start planning the menu. He said that, like always, I’d be helping him cook the turkey since it was our tradition that started before he married Linda.

Linda’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth, and I saw her face do that thing where she wanted to object but caught herself. She put the fork down and asked if she could make her special stuffing to contribute to the meal. Frank said that would be great, and we spent the rest of dinner dividing up the cooking tasks.

Linda took on the stuffing, sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce, while Frank and I claimed the turkey, gravy, and green beans. Tom and Bobby got assigned to set the table and handle cleanup, which they pretended to complain about but didn’t really mind. Thanksgiving morning arrived cold and sunny, and I got up early to help Frank prep the turkey.

Linda came into the kitchen an hour later to start on her dishes, and suddenly we were working side by side for the first time ever. It felt incredibly awkward at first, both of us moving around the kitchen trying not to bump into each other or get in each other’s way. We didn’t talk much beyond the basics of asking for ingredients or checking oven times.

But when I needed her to pass me the salt, she handed it over without any attitude or eye-rolling. And when she couldn’t figure out her stuffing recipe because the card was stained and hard to read, she actually asked me for help instead of waiting for Frank to come save her. We worked together for 3 hours, and while it wasn’t comfortable or natural, it also wasn’t hostile.

That felt like a bigger achievement than it probably should have. By early afternoon the whole meal was ready, and we all sat down at the dining room table. Frank had set it up really nicely with candles and the good dishes, and Bobby had even folded the napkins into fancy shapes he’d learned from a video.

Before we started eating, Frank stood up with his wine glass and said he wanted to make a toast. He talked about being grateful for family and for second chances, and then he said specifically that he was proud of how hard we’d all worked to become a real family despite the challenges we’d faced. He looked at each of us as he talked, and when his eyes landed on Linda, his expression got really serious and meaningful.

Linda raised her glass along with everyone else, but I noticed tears forming in her eyes. Her hand shook a little as she brought the glass to her lips, and I couldn’t tell if the tears were from guilt about how she treated me or sadness about how hard this all was for her, or maybe something else entirely. She looked down at her plate quickly and blinked several times.

When she looked back up, her eyes were still wet, but she was trying to smile. We all started eating, and the meal was really good, but I kept thinking about those tears in Linda’s eyes and wondering what was really going through her head. The next few weeks passed with everyone settling into this new version of normal where Linda tried and sometimes succeeded at being less horrible.

December arrived with cold weather and early darkness, and one Saturday morning Linda suggested we all go pick out a Christmas tree together. Frank looked surprised but pleased, and Tom and Bobby immediately started arguing about whether we should get a huge tree or a medium one. At the tree farm, Linda walked beside me instead of positioning herself away from the group like she usually did.

She asked which tree I thought looked best when we stopped in front of a 7-footer with full branches. I said it seemed nice, and she nodded, then asked Frank and the boys what they thought. We ended up getting that tree and loading it onto the car together, with Linda actually helping tie it down instead of standing back and watching.

Back at the house, we spent the afternoon decorating. Linda pulled boxes of ornaments from the garage and started handing them to me one by one. She made small talk about my favorite Christmas memories, asking if I remembered the year my dad dressed up as Santa when I was six.

I did remember and told her about it, and she smiled this tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The whole conversation felt rehearsed, like she’d practiced what to say with her therapist, but at least she was talking to me instead of pretending I wasn’t there, which was more than she’d done for months. Tom put on Christmas music, and Bobby kept trying to put ornaments on the highest branches even though he couldn’t reach without a ladder.

Frank supervised and made jokes about our decorating skills. Linda handed me a glass ball ornament painted with snowflakes and asked where I thought it should go. I hung it near the front of the tree, and she said it looked good there.

The afternoon felt strange and awkward but not actively hostile, which seemed like progress even if it didn’t feel natural. A few days later Bobby found me in my room doing homework. He asked if I’d help him pick out Christmas presents for Tom and Frank since I knew them better than anyone.

I said sure and started suggesting ideas, but then Linda appeared in my doorway. She said she’d take us shopping together if we wanted. Bobby looked as surprised as I felt, but he said that would be great.

The shopping trip happened that weekend and turned out to be more pleasant than I expected. Linda drove us to the mall and followed along while Bobby and I went store to store looking for the perfect gifts. We found a new basketball for Tom and a nice tie for Frank, and Linda gave her opinion when we asked but didn’t try to take over or make it about her.

Bobby talked the whole time about what he hoped to get for Christmas, and Linda listened without getting annoyed. At one point she even laughed at something funny Bobby said about Tom’s terrible taste in music. We got coffee at the food court and sat together drinking it, and while Linda and I still didn’t have much to say to each other beyond surface stuff about school and weather, at least the silence between us wasn’t angry anymore.

On the drive home Bobby fell asleep in the back seat, and Linda asked me how my college applications were going. I told her about the schools I was considering, and she asked follow-up questions that seemed genuinely interested rather than just polite. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than the cold war we’d been living in since Frank married her.