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No one is saying Mommy.

No one needs a snack.

No one is crying.

No one is asking where their blue cup is when their blue cup is directly in front of them.

No one is asking me what we're having for dinner while actively eating a snack.

Silence.

Beautiful fucking silence.

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tub.

Simon told me to take a bath.

I'm going to take a bath.

I'm going to be one of those women who takes a relaxing bath instead of spending my break doing laundry or dishes or mopping.

I pour in way too much of the expensive bubble bath Brittney gave me for my birthday.

Then I grab my phone.

Two texts from the family group chat.

One school email that I refuse to open.

An Amazon shipping notification.

And a text from Jamie from an hour ago.

Jamie

Hudson just asked if Santa knows we've moved since last Christmas.

Now he's panicking that Santa is going to break into our old house.

Tell him Santa updates his address database immediately.

Now he’s worried that Santa has a stalking problem.

Does he?

A man breaking into my house and leaving me gifts sounds like the plot of a dark romance novel.

I laugh and hit the call button instead of texting back.

She answers on the third ring. “Blaire?”

“No, it's Santa. I'm calling to verify Hudson's address.”

“Fuck you.”

I laugh and start stripping out of my clothes.

“Are you busy?”