I Helped an Elderly Woman Reunite with Her Family, but Her Hidden Motives Ruined My Thanksgiving
The night before Thanksgiving, the city sparkled with festive lights, laughter, and music spilling out of every corner. Amid the cheerful buzz, I found myself wandering alone, each step heavy with a deep ache for connection. My gaze fell on a shop window filled with delicate glass ornaments painted with snowy scenes, the kind my mom and I used to choose together every Christmas.
“Mom loved those,” I whispered to myself, memories of cocoa and old movies warming the cold air around me.
Just then, I noticed an elderly woman struggling through the snow, hauling a suitcase that seemed too heavy for her frail frame. Something inside nudged me, and I stepped over.
“Ma’am, need some help?” I offered.
Her tired face lit up with relief. “Oh, bless you, dear! I’m Edie. I came to surprise my daughter, Melody, for Thanksgiving. It’s been years.”
Touched, I smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Want me to walk with you?”
As we strolled arm-in-arm, Edie’s excitement over the reunion warmed my heart. I felt grateful to be helping her and sharing in her joy, a small purpose on an otherwise lonely night. Then my phone buzzed — Arthur, my boss, calling. I hesitated, but Edie encouraged me to answer.
“He’s not exactly calling with good news,” I mumbled, explaining Arthur’s tendency to impose last-minute demands.
Edie chuckled. “Bosses rarely bring cheer, do they?”
I silenced the call, deciding to ignore work just this once. “Tonight, I’d rather help you, Edie.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Thank you, dear. Melody’s going to be so surprised.”
We wandered a bit before Edie grew concerned about arriving empty-handed. At her suggestion, we ducked into a cozy shop, its shelves filled with warm scarves and tiny figurines. Arthur’s texts were piling up, but I shook them off as I helped Edie pick a gift. She held up a glass ornament painted with a snowy forest, one nearly identical to the one my mom would’ve loved.
“Do you like it?” she asked softly.
I smiled, the memory of Mom’s holiday tradition filling my heart. “I do.”
“Then let’s get two — one for you, and one for Melody,” she said with a warm smile.
Grateful, I accepted her gift, unaware how much that small token would mean by the end of the night. We eventually reached a quiet house that Edie pointed out, anticipation lighting her face. But when a young woman opened the door, her expression turned to confusion.
“I’m sorry, but my mom’s already here,” the woman said gently, glancing sympathetically at Edie, who looked suddenly lost.
Realization hit me. Edie didn’t have a daughter named Melody waiting here. Feeling deceived, I barely registered my phone buzzing again — Arthur, once more demanding I return to the office. Frustrated, I guided Edie back to the car.
When we reached the office, Arthur was waiting with crossed arms, annoyance etched into his face. “You think this job is a joke, Fiona? Ignoring my calls all night?”
His coldness and Edie’s deceit weighed heavily, but I simply nodded, taking the reprimand in silence. After collecting my things, I returned to find Edie wandering around Arthur’s office, curiously inspecting his decorations.
“Edie,” I whispered, hurt and confused, “why did you lie to me?”
Her face softened. “I was just… hoping for company. Thanksgiving gets lonely.”
I felt the anger begin to melt, understanding now that she, like me, had only wanted connection. A taxi arrived, and as Edie climbed in, she looked back, but I turned away, feeling a mix of sadness and regret.
Returning to my empty apartment, I was struck by how lonely the holiday felt without family. I thought of Edie’s desperate need for warmth and Arthur’s relentless demands. Just then, a knock interrupted my thoughts, and I opened the door to find Arthur holding the glass ornament Edie had given me.
“Fiona,” he began awkwardly, “I found this on my desk. I… didn’t realize something so small could mean so much.” He cleared his throat. “I came to apologize. I know I can be… difficult.”
Stunned, I managed a nod as he continued. “I don’t have plans tonight. And it hit me… no one should be alone on Thanksgiving.”
I understood his unspoken question. “Would you… like to join me for dinner?” I asked, a tentative smile spreading across my face.
He nodded, relief in his eyes. “Actually… would you mind if we went to see Edie? I think she might need some company tonight too.”
When we arrived at Edie’s place, her home was filled with the warm smell of turkey and spices. Family photos lined the walls, and as we sat down to share the meal, the loneliness that had seemed so overwhelming earlier faded into the soft light of connection, friendship, and an unexpected Thanksgiving family.