The 13th Gift Read Online Free PDF

thinking,” she replies.
    Ben joins us. I know that I can’t let another missed curfew pass without comment. I plan my attack while he heats instant oatmeal in the microwave. I let him take a few bites before charging.
    “I didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. What time did you get home?”
    “Way before that,” he says. “You were in the bathroom. I went straight to bed.”
    I want to believe him.
    Megan rolls her eyes but doesn’t challenge her brother. Even a little bit of rebellion is out of character for her, and I fear something is brewing between them.
    Ben has one very loud word for his little sister, “What?”
    “Nothing. Nothing at all,” she says.
    Nick wanders into the dining room playing his Game Boy. He eats dry cereal out of the box so he doesn’t miss a minute of playing time. He is unaware of the tension at the table but defuses it anyway.
    “We got a second gift last night,” he tells his brother. “Two bags of bows.”
    “Where are they? Did you see who left them?”
    Megan flashes me what I think is a disappointed look.
    “The Christmas bows are in my bedroom,” she says. “Mom doesn’t want them.”
    The boys speak simultaneously, “Why not?”
    I walk out of the room in search of my purse to avoid answering the question. Megan responds loud enough for me to hear.
    “She’s getting a cold.”
    “Another one?” Nick asks.
    I pull ten dollars from my wallet and hand it to Ben, moving the conversation away from the gifts and onto dinner plans for the evening. I have a late meeting to cover for the newspaper and won’t be home in time to cook. The honor falls to him.
    “Can you go to the grocery after school? We need milk and butter.”
    I wait for Ben to erupt, but he just pockets the cash.
    “There’s a box of macaroni and cheese on the counter.”
    Megan gives Nick a pleading look, and I’m not sure what it means, but her brother’s attention is tethered to Super Mario.
    “I can walk to Dot’s Market after school,” she volunteers. “I’ll get the groceries.”
    “How about,
no
,” Ben says.
    Since the market is more than a mile away, I agree with my son.
    “Why don’t you take your sister with you,” I suggest.
    The look on Ben’s face is far from filial. My mom radar starts beeping when Megan melts back into her chair and closes her eyes again, but I attribute the mood to her late bedtime and my trashing of the bows.
    I know what’s going on. Instead of fanning her joyous spirit, I am stomping it out. I want to make amends, maybe take her to a movie this weekend.
    “How about we—” The arrival of Ben’s school bus outside the house ends the conversation and sends everyone scrambling. Nick’s and Meg’s buses are never far behind. As Ben walks out the door, I ask him to spend time with his sister this evening.
    “She’s ten. She doesn’t need a babysitter,” he says.
    Though she isn’t her usual chatty self, Megan gives me a long hug before she walks out to wait for her bus. The hug is reassuring and makes me feel a little better about the bows.
    All three kids make it to the stop before their buses leave without them. I congratulate myself with a Diet Coke and hope the caffeine will inspire me to whittle away at the heap of dirty clothes in the laundry room. While throwing used dryer sheetsinto the trash, I discover Megan didn’t rescue all the bows this morning. The ones made of red-and-white striped ribbon—the two she selected for herself—lie in the bottom of the bin. My heart melts, and I know with certainty that I am the worst mother in the world.
    “She’s losing Christmas.”
    Instead of piddling around home until noon getting the Smith house in shape for Christmas as planned, I arrive at the office just after ten. I tell myself this is where I need to be right now. I am building a career to support my family, but that is only partly true. I spend more time in the office than at home. It’s just easier.

    By the time I get back