My Stepmom Tried to Keep Me from Spending Christmas with Dad — But Karma Had Other Plans

Rosalie, 17, is horrified when her stepmother, Susan, secretly cancels her travel, ruining her Christmas. Karma, however, has other ideas. Susan’s Christmas is far from ideal as a result of a string of humorous detours that leave her stranded, humiliated, and exposed for her manipulation.

It was going to be a beautiful Christmas last year. However, life isn’t flawless, is it? particularly when dealing with a stepmother who doesn’t genuinely care about you.

Let me share with you the Christmas nightmare I experienced. My name is Rosalie, and I’m seventeen. Two years ago, my dad remarried Susan after a relatively peaceful divorce. To say we didn’t get along as well as he had hoped would be an understatement.

From the moment Susan entered our lives, it was clear that I didn’t fit into the perfect blended family she envisioned.

“Rosalie is just like her mother, Rob,” she would say. “What did you expect? That we’d be the perfect mother-daughter duo? She’s too stubborn for that.”

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right about that.

I had since relocated to a little apartment a dozen hours distant from my father. He hadn’t wanted me to go at first, but in the end, Susan had won. She wanted me gone, too.

I wasn’t whining. In any case, I was closer to my mother, the school I was attending was far superior than the one I had attended before, and the building where I resided was owned by my dad’s aunt. She brought baked goods and casseroles of food, and she was always checking on me.

Rent was paid, and I was taken care of with my parents’ monthly allowance and my part-time job at the neighborhood spa. I was doing well by myself.

Then, for once, I was hopeful when Dad invited me to join them for Christmas. I didn’t want to spend the holidays alone myself while Mom was gone at a retreat in Tibet.

The idea of driving for twelve hours made me queasy, so I booked my trip in advance. All of my presents were wrapped and safely stored in my bag. I even brought along an additional bottle of whiskey, which is my dad’s favorite.

“Rosalie, please explain why you want me to buy a bottle of whiskey for you,” Aunt Maureen replied.

“It’s for Dad! I swear, it’s not for me, it’s for Christmas! Simply said, I’m too young to purchase it myself.

She bought it for me, wrapped the bottle in thick brown paper, and let me have it.

She said, “Here you go,” as she entered my apartment. “The bottle better be sealed when you get home to your dad.”

She laughed, dropped off a brownie tray, and went.

Before Susan arrived at my flat and claimed to be on a business trip and in need of a place to crash, the countdown to Christmas seemed to go on forever.

She whispered, “Rosalie,” as she dragged her suitcases through the door. “For a few days, I need a somewhere to stay. I’m not here for fun; I’m here on business. You keep studying for your classes or take care of your other obligations. I’ll take care of myself if you just make sure the coffee maker is regularly full.”

Now, her staying over was odd because I live in a little one-bedroom apartment. What was I to do, though? Refuse? And have Dad attack me after that?

No, I’m grateful.

I reluctantly allowed her to stay.

Susan was strangely agreeable at first. It surprised me that she liked my holiday decorations because she generally scoffed at anything I did.

However, I was taken aback when Susan offered to prepare dinner on the second night.

When she stated, “I’ll be back from my meeting soon,” “I’ll also handle dinner. Alright, grilled fish? “And garlic bread, too!”

“That sounds really good. Regards, Susan.

Perhaps, I reasoned, she was attempting to put the past behind us and mend our differences.

She wasn’t, to give you a hint.

I was really excited when I woke up on Christmas Eve. I checked my bags again, put on my favorite sweater, and waited for Aunt Maureen to drop me off at the airport because my flight was in the afternoon.

“I’ll see you at home?” As I put on my boots, I asked Susan.

“Yeah,” she replied without raising her eyes from her laptop. “Tonight is my flight. I’ll bring the keys and lock up.”

I arrived at the airport. At that point, everything broke down.

I gave my ticket to the airline attendant, who scowled at her screen.

Her words, “I’m sorry, Miss Sutton,” “But your flight was canceled.”

Bewildered, I blinked.

“What? Cancelled? Who did it? “The airline?”

She squinted at the television, tilting her head.

“No, all our flights are going ahead, ma’am,” she replied. “But it was canceled two days ago online.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

What on earth?

My ticket had not been touched. I hadn’t used the internet to check in. Nothing. I called the airline’s customer care in a panic, and they verified that my account had been charged for the cancelation. Finding out who had access to my laptop two days ago didn’t require a genius.

I was heartbroken.

My phone buzzed as I sat in the airport, struggling to comprehend what had just transpired.

Have a great Christmas! Since it won’t include you, ours will be flawless! Your keys will be with Maureen.

The statement was like a kick to the stomach. She had undermined me. I was sabotaged by Susan.

She was using the “nice” act as a pretext to keep me away from Dad over Christmas. My phone went straight to voicemail when I tried to contact my dad in a fit of rage to inform him what had happened.

I was enraged and frustrated for the next few hours. I felt simply numb, even though I could have left the airport to return home. I had no idea what to do.

It wrecked my Christmas. But then my phone buzzed once again at about nine o’clock at night. It was an unidentified number this time.

Your small scheme was successful. I am stuck in the bakery. I need you to come get me right now because it’s chilly. ROSALIE, NOW!

I almost heard Susan’s voice yelling at me as I blinked at the words.

What’s the plan? I had not taken any action! Still, I found it fascinating.

I’m occupied. Susan, good luck. You are able to walk.

After that, I returned home.

When I was piecing together Susan’s terrible night the following morning, the irony was delightful.

This is what transpired:

Susan had gone to the neighborhood bakery to get pies for Christmas dinner that afternoon after I had left for the airport. However, she parked her rented car illegally—in a tow-away zone, mind you—because she’s, well, Susan.

Why me?

In order to help him remember them, my dad had purchased phone numbers for us that were identical but for one digit. I suppose karma had a sense of humor because I was the only number Susan had been able to commit to memory.

Furthermore, after finding out about the canceled flight ticket, Susan called the towing firm, believing that I had sabotaged her.

My dad, meanwhile, eventually gave me a call back after attempting to reach Susan all night. He spoke in a worried tone.

“Shouldn’t you be here by now, Rose?” He inquired. “And where is Susan?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” I said, my voice hardly able to contain my laughter. “She’s probably still at the bakery or chilling in the tow yard by now.”

“What are you talking about, Rosalie?”

I told him everything.

Regarding Susan’s text, the cancelled flight, and her current situation of being stranded.

“You’re kidding,” his father remarked. “She actually canceled your flight?”

“Yeah,” I said. “No one else was available to do it. She’s now paying for her unattractive appearance.

He sighed after being silent for a while.

“Rosalie, there’s something you should know,” he replied. “A few weeks ago, Susan told me that she didn’t think you should come for Christmas.”

I went cold.

“What?”

“She said that if it was just “we,” it would be simpler for everyone. When she came to you on her business trip, I assumed she would get past it or find a solution. However, I didn’t anticipate that she would truly take this action.”

“Dad, you knew she didn’t want me there?” I inquired.

With a whisper, “I thought I could fix it, darling,” he said. “I wanted you two to have a memorable Christmas. It was my responsibility to make it pleasant for you because I knew Mom is away. Susan’s journey was longer than I anticipated. After I talked to her, I turned my back on the subject.

“You thought ignoring it would help?”

His silence was sufficient response.

With a simple “I’m catching the next flight,” he said.

Susan appeared to have been dragged through life when she eventually arrived home, hours after she had hitched a lift from a tow truck driver.

Susan went to my restroom and cleaned herself of her ordeal before dozing asleep on the couch. My dad was there when she woke up, having just landed from his flight.

He exclaimed, “You canceled her flight?” before continuing.

Susan’s face turned pale as she froze.

“I… Rob, I wanted us to have some family time without…”

He said, “Without my daughter?” “You attempted to destroy our relationship in addition to ruining her Christmas. Who the hell treats an adolescent like that? Because of you, Rosalie is merely a child who has been made to mature.”

Despite Susan’s best efforts to protect herself, the damage had already been done.

Dad said, “Pack your things,” with firmness. “You can spend Christmas anywhere you like. It won’t be here, though. Additionally, my daughter and I will be spending Christmas together.”

Susan was silent for once. With her head dangling in embarrassment, she packed up her belongings and departed.

What about me?

When Dad booked our flights home, he assured us that Susan wouldn’t be on board. We laughed at the absurdity of it all, ate pie, and drank hot cocoa for the remainder of the holiday.

What about Susan?

Nursing her battered ego and her large towing fine, she spent Christmas by herself in a motel room.

Disgrace. Karma can sometimes act quickly.