Читать книгу The Christmas Strike - Nikki Rivers - Страница 2

Sitting in a cold car—a rusty station wagon, no less—listening to songs from my high school years with the same yearning in my heart that I’d felt then. “Abby,” I whispered into the icy air, “you picked a great time to have a midlife crisis.”

I drove home, hauled the packages into the house and went into the living room.

Natalie looked up from her magazine. “Ma, the kids keep asking me when you’re going to decorate for Christmas. As their grandmother, and since it is your house, it’s your responsibility.”

You know that saying “I saw red”? Well, it’s true. I saw red. And we’re not talking twinkling lights here.

I remembered a story I’d heard. If a man could go on strike against his wife for lack of affection, why couldn’t a woman go on strike against her family for lack of cooperation?

“As of this moment, all of you are on your own. I. Am. On. Strike.”