Holiday Hijinks

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. And I wished I were anywhere else but here.

Don't get me wrong. I love the mountains. I love the cold, the snow, the snug way the cabin feels when there's nowhere to go and all you need to do is drink hot chocolate and play card games. Or pull out the snowshoes, or make a snowman. What I don't love is the people I'd be spending this particular vacation with.

I also love my hubs. And that's the problem - he didn't see how his own family treated him shamefully for years. Nasty digs, verbal putdowns, neglect of all kinds. And then treating me the same, for defending him.

Cases in point: they got me a sampler of generic jellies one year, half were already eaten, and they ate the other half in front of me while opening other presents for each other. The oil and vinegar cruets hubs got one year were immediately used for the lunch we weren't allowed to eat, and mysteriously vanished after being washed. A different year, everyone was given expensive lap quilts; my car was given a sun visor, and hubs was given an empty cologne bottle. Last year when his parents announced they were paying for an expensive cruise for everyone there but us, hubs finally broke. He grabbed the stack of hundreds of dollars of gift cards we'd bought for their presents and locked them in our suitcase. They tried to break the locks to get to them twice.

We decided that this year would be different.

Notice that we're always here for Christmas? Apparently the fact that I have a family too, that actually loves us and wants to see us, never entered their brain. Alternate holidays? Share? Perish the thought. Guilt trips and broken promises brought hubs back time and time again, thinking they'd finally appreciate him.

Well, enough.

The first change was the vehicle we were driving. It was a rental, picked up at the airport. Normally his parents demanded the privilege, while complaining loudly about inconvenience and traffic and expense and space required for the two measly bags they allowed us to bring, and even then we had to hold them on our laps. Offers to do it ourselves were met with denials; we're too untrustworthy and ungrateful. How that conclusion was reached was anyone's guess.

We also arrived on a much earlier flight than usual.

The snow was pristine around the cabin when we arrived. We had never had a chance to use our own key before, since Herself thought she'd stolen it from hubs when he was a kid. We never told her that hubs visited his gramps years later and told him, and had gotten a second key made.

We had also made some purchases on the road, now that we had the room for our own stuff. Our very own mattress was unpacked. We piled three extra soft and warm blankets onto it. Then we unlocked our brand new theft-proof suitcases, and pulled out the necessary things we would need to get through this trip unscathed: a skillet, utensils, a coffee pot. We set them up, brought in our cooler, and made ourselves a heavenly meal of Monte Christo sandwiches with a decadent blend of gourmet coffee.

By the time the second car arrived, the meal was a memory, and our supplies safely locked up again. The cooler was back in the trunk outside.

The screaming started as soon as the door opened. My brother-in-law. "I smell food! Gimme, I'm starving!"

"Sorry, darling, we've had this discussion. Remember last year, when you tried to get me drunk and kiss me? Remember the year before, when you fed us lunch meat that was a month expired? And the year before that, when you brought snacks for everyone to share, but forbid us from touching them? This time, we brought our own food, and you're not getting any."

"Oh, yeah? Try to stop me!" And he marched over to the fridge door, swung it open - and grunted in surprise at the empty shelves. When he swung around, we were already curling up on the sofa to watch the parade of stuff his wife and kids were dragging in. "What, you're not even gonna help us set up?"

"Have you ever helped us? Except to ruin what little we could cram in our suitcases? Sorry, darling, you're on your own. I believe that's exactly what you said to me last time?"

He snarled, but there was nothing he could do. My hubs may be gentle, but he's the biggest of the lot, and is rather fit under all that bulk. We watched them lug in more than was ever needed and sort it with much yelling and conflict. Our only contribution was to hand over a broom and point to the clumps of snow they'd brought in on their boots. We'd already cleaned the steps for them before anyone arrived, there was no excuse for tracking in more.

He was muttering under his breath trying to get the fire going when Sister-in-Law and her husband sashayed in. It was hard to tell who was screaming loudest... Her? Her kids? The bawling chorus increased, while her husband - a meek little thing, poor guy - went to set up their air mattress. Our ear plugs were working just fine to reduce the noise level to something almost bearable.

Then she noticed us, and the decibel level rose. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Hello to you too, dearest. How was the trip?"

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE AIRPORT!"

"I sincerely doubt it, seeing as we're here already."

"MOM'S GONNA BE MAD AT YOU!"

"For what? We told you that we were coming in by ourselves. You saw the group chat."

"I'M TELLING!" And she whipped out her phone and called. More screaming over the speaker phone, the call and response of the whooping harpies. When Herself tried to ream me out remotely, I casually pulled out my own phone and hit a few buttons.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

I waited till they wound down. Into the silence, I said, "Those incoming messages that you-all just received were screen shots of the last conversation we had in our group chat. Remember? Read it at your convenience, but you'll notice what I wrote? Let me remind you: I said, 'We're holding firm on this. We're coming in our own vehicle. We won't be treated like second-class citizens any more. If you don't like it, too bad. See you at the cabin.' Remember now?"

There was silence. Surprising. But this was new territory. We'd decided that boundaries were going up after last year. I slid my phone back in my pocket, and cuddled up against my lovely warm bear of a husband.

The silence was broken when sister-in-law saw our bed. "WHO BROUGHT THAT THING?"

"We did. We bought our own camping supplies."

"I BROUGHT YOUR BED ALONG, LIKE I ALWAYS DO!"

"Then you also neglected that part of the group chat where I told you not to bother. I said that we weren't going to sleep on that mouse-poop-infested thin mattress for another year. We also told you not to bring that crappy blanket, and you always 'forget' to bring pillows. We brought our own."

"WHO SAID YOU COULD-"

"Enough." When hubby talks quietly, people shut up. He uses it rarely, but trust me, it's terrifying. "The stupid game is over, Sis. That was made clear in our conversations this past year. All of you try to ruin our holiday, and we told you that we're no longer playing. Get it through your heads: We. Are. Done."

Blessed silence descended, and it was glorious. But sister-in-law found a breath of bravado. "Is that a threat?" she whispered.

Hubs snorted. "Of course not. That's reality. We're not sucking up your bad behavior ever again."

"I'm telling."

"Please do. Spread the word. We're no longer your punching bags. The sooner you grasp that fact, the better it'll turn out."

Dinner was an interesting affair. They got out food and tried to get the ancient oven to work. Of course they hadn't cleaned it after last year, deliberately burning our share of the meat tarts they'd brought and expecting us to scrub it for them as usual. Hubs going out to the rental and bringing back a covered cast iron pot and setting it on top of the wood stove unnerved them - and even more so, when it gave off a tantalizing odor.

One of us made sure to stay near couch or stove to keep eyes on it, and them, so they couldn't mess with our meal. They retaliated by ignoring us as they ate a cold supper. The kids squabbled over the snack bags, and ended up scattering chips and pretzels all over the floor. They got mad when we pointed to the broom and dustpan silently. Someone had to clean up, or the Queen would have their heads on platters for attracting vermin into the cabin.

Ah, speaking of Herself....

She blew in after dinner like a windstorm, screeching and stomping. Her hands were full of her cases of clothing, which she threw on the nearest bed. I heard the pop-hiss of the air mattress breaking, and then people screeching at her, her at them, someone digging out the repair kit, the huff of air frantically being replaced... It was a good show, and we had ringside seats.

We didn't move till Herself got in hubs' face, screeching for help with her bags. So, he obliged - by scooping them up and flinging them out the door into the snow.

That was enough to shut them all up.

When hubs turned around, he looked angrily stern. Herself took a step back as he approached, and said softly: "Enough with your tantrums. All you're doing is stirring up crap. We are real people. Not puppets, not toys to be broken. You're done punching my buttons. I'm through with this insanity. It's not hard to be polite and keep yourselves from screaming. Now, are you going to ask nicely if someone will help you, or will you be an adult and do it yourself?"

Herself had backed up, mouth still open, through the speech, till she was jammed in the doorway between a ticked off son and a husband trying to shove his way into warmth and light with another load. Apparently she decided to take his advice, because when hubs sat down, she scooted out and retrieved her bags without another word. I wasn't used to silence from this crowd. It was glorious.

When we finally got to sleep later, I had the best night's rest I'd ever experienced there.

Morning was amusing - for us, anyway. We're early risers, so we got up and made ourselves breakfast with no interference before the rest stirred.

By the time they were fully awake, our gear had been cleaned and locked away. The eggs and bacon and coffee scent wafting through the air made their cold cereal and gritty cheap coffee taste bitter by comparison. At least, that's what their expressions said.

When they cleared the table, a steak knife (for cereal?) somehow magically sprouted wings and transported itself across the whole cabin, to bury itself through all three of our blankets and the mattress under them. That's when they learned we'd brought a foam mattress, not an air one. And duct tape fixes cuts well till they can be mended properly.

The crowd muttered conspiratorily and avoided us while we played cards, but when we were cleaning up our separated lunches, hubs cheerfully came in the house with curious news: "Honey, did you know a rental car could be keyed, all the way up here?"

"Oh, really?" I answered airily. I slid my phone out of my pocket again, and they blinked like owls while I tapped away. "Hunh. Looks like your sister's key is the one that slipped, many many times. Darling, you shouldn't be that careless."

She bristled. "Well, I never!"

"You did, see?" I showed the screen to them: video of her scratching away. "We made sure this rental came with car cameras, to protect us from accidents. See, darling, this time, I'm the one who's telling." A few more taps on the phone. "There. Video sent to the local police, and also the rental company. With your name and contact information. You'll get a call shortly." Sure enough, within moments, her phone rang.

"THAT'S IT!" She jumped up, addressed her mother shrilly. "This isn't fun anymore! It was great to pick on them when they took it! You loved ne better when I did it! Now I can't even yell without being told to shut up! I'm going home! Thanks for ruining my Christmas, and making my kids cry!" On cue they started wailing, and she dragged them to the car and shoved them in. Mousy husband packed their things silently, and toted everything to the car. On his last trip, he stopped and pulled out his phone. Tappa tappa tappa click, and out the door.

Herself was livid again. "How dare you run off your own sister!"

I answered for him. "How dare you treat us like crap? How dare you mock me and my hubs? How dare you play not-funny pranks on us, destroy our stuff, refuse to feed us, make us do your bidding every single year? We're done playing your pathetic head games, and you're now experiencing the consequences of your rotten actions all this time. Get over yourself."

She turned on my hubby. "Are you going to let her say such things to me, your own mother?"

Hubs grinned. "I think she's doing fine by herself. Do you want me to add to her list, of all the holidays you ruined for me as a kid? Everyone got better presents, I got used hand-me-downs? If you even remembered to get me a present at all? Presents stolen and broken? But Heaven help me if I ever forgot your birthdays, or Mother's Day, or even Arbor Day. I took two jobs to satisfy both your greed and build up enough money to run away from your nastiness. Reign of terror's over, sweetie-pie. Get used to it."

My phone dinged. I checked the message, smiled delightedly, and showed only hubs what it said: "Dropping off soon-to-be ex wife at police station on way home. Will be packing and taking everything to my parents. Thank you for showing me the way to get out."

Hubs grinned wolfishly as his brother slapped the table, making everyone jump. "Well, then, I'm out too. It was fun to yell at you, because then Mom was nicer to me and my kids. I liked the extras we got, and seeing your face when you got nothing. But if you're going to actually stand up to this, and mean it, well, I don't wanna be forced to be nice for the holidays." He looked over at his parents. "Come to our place, we'll celebrate Christmas without the party poopers." He got up and took all the food out of the fridge, even the goodies his parents had put there. His wife and kids silently helped, gathering stuff and putting it in their car. I made sure to keep watch so our stuff didn't "accidentally" leave with them.

Halfway through, Herself and Himself exchanged nods, and got up to collect their stuff as well.

And the last thing my brother-in-law packed was the rest of the firewood he'd brought, leaving only what was left in the wood stove.

We hugged each other gleefully when the door finally slammed shut, but we didn't move till both vehicles were chugging their way down the mountain. Then I got up to sweep the new snow clumps out the door, and hubs went to get the firewood that we'd brought, knowing this might happen.

"I honestly didn't think they'd fold that fast. You were right, Hon, they're just two-bit bullies with nothing to back it up."

"Bullies don't have a backup plan. It's all mockery and intimidation, and once we didn't care and showed we were willing to stand for ourselves, they dried up and blew away."

Ding! Another text had come in: "Police stopped us in town. Wife under arrest, she called Mommy, MIL coming to bail out, BIL coming to yell at cops. I drove away when no one was watching. Happy Holidays!"

We smiled. Tomorrow was Christmas, and we had the makings of a fine day to ourselves. And a beautiful cabin in the woods, surrounded by snowy mountains. Hubs put his arm around me as we enjoyed some hot cocoa by a cozy fire. I thought about Christmas pastimes for two: snowshoe hikes, snowball fights, snowmen to make...

"Wanna take bets they'll never come back?"

"Wanna take bets they'll try to sell the place, and realize they need my signature? And that my lawyer is ready to buy them out instead?"

"It's lovely up here, this time of year. So quiet, so peaceful...."

He chuckled, and kissed my chocolate-stained lips.