I make my way quietly down the stairs. I can already hear my parents bickering before I step off the last step.
“I get it,” Mom says. “But couldn’t you handle it via email once you got home?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to argue about this anymore. If he’d actually been kissing a woman using the mistletoe as coercion, you wouldn’t have been okay with me walking away and sending an email.”
Mom blusters, but doesn’t deny it.
“I needed him to know it was serious. Serious enough to be dealt with immediately and in person.”
“Fine,” she says. “We’re home now. We need to get ready for the dinner party tomorrow.”
Now Daddy huffs out a breath.
Every year, Mom hosts a Christmas Eve-Eve dinner party for her team at work. She works in the fashion industry as a buyer for a large department store,
