The Mother Of All Christmas Parties
UPLIFTING SHORT STORY BY LAUREN REBBECK
Josie was starting to wonder what she had let herself in for… why had she agreed to this?
Josie drained the last of her hot chocolate and licked whipped cream from her lip. The last sip was always the best, where all the molten marshmallows settled.
Should she have one more while she waited? It was Christmas, after all.
And it was nice to enjoy a hot drink while it was still hot. She signalled politely to the hotel barista for another hit of chocolatey goodness, and sent a text to Kieran.
Has Flora settled?
She paused for a millisecond, then sent another two messages, offering advice to lull their fussy infant to sleep.
Josie found it extremely hard to switch off mum-mode. Flora was a ruddy-cheeked, toothless beauty, full of smiles and sass. She was perfection personified… except she didn’t sleep.
Josie had been too exhausted to expend any extra energy at Baby and Me groups. She’d been surviving on takeaways and tubs of Celebrations that should have been saved for the Christmas day buffet table.
When Flora would finally pass out, Josie would marvel at how the little girl sprawled across her belly had once lived inside there. She remembered the reassuring flutter of every kick, and she cherished every stretchmark.
They were her battle scars in the fight to become a parent. Even after ten hours of labour, when Josie held her tiny baby in her arms, she’d never felt stronger. She was a warrior and a nurturer; a beautiful mix of strength and softness.
She texted again.
I can come home… the other women haven’t even got here yet.
Finally, Kieran responded.
Sorry, Josie, was just doing a nappy. She’s fine! Enjoy yourself, you deserve to unwind. Then, a reassuring photo of Flora with a big gummy grin.
Josie sank back into her armchair in the spa’s foyer. The vapour spray in reception smelled like orange blossom and cinnamon, fresh and festive. It made Josie hungry. She remembered the yule log she’d seen at the coffee bar when she’d ordered her hot chocolate, and checked her watch. Still time to squeeze in a bite if she ate fast. Thinking about the gooey chocolate, she planned to simply open her mouth and inhale it.
From her comfy seat, she had the perfect view of both the lush Christmas tree towering over the reception desk, and the automatic glass door entrance.
It was the perfect spot for spying the impending minibus that would bring forth the other new mums – potential new friends, if Inga had her way!
Inga was Josie’s best friend. She was pint-sized, but larger than life. Inga managed triplet boys, a rigorous gym schedule and a flawlessly curated social media presence. Oh, and she was the queen of the Baby and Me groups.
That’s how reclusive Josie had wound up in this situation – forced against her will by an elbow-height socialite pushing a triple pram into a day of mingling with other mums at a spa.
Her tummy gurgled with both hunger and nerves as the waitress brought over the slab of yule log.
Josie tucked in with one hand, and flipped through an abandoned magazine with the other. She scanned the sparkly spread of Ten Christmas Party Dresses To Hide Your Flab with raised eyebrows.
She skipped the article on secret slimming tips from a reality star she’d never heard of. She was quite content with the body, and chocolate-enriched diet, she had. Miss Dancing-On-Ice
could keep her turkey-and-stuffing protein shake.
Feeling nauseated at the patriarchal propaganda printed in the magazine, Josie was about to toss it into the fireplace. Was ink toxic? Worrying she would cause an emergency evacuation of the spa, and poison all the patrons, she flopped it back onto the table.
The pages flipped open to a spread showing another female celebrity in a bright red bikini, frolicking on a sandy beach. It was the same swimsuit Josie had packed in the bag on her lap.
Josie’s jaw dropped at the headline: Brave Soap Babe Bares All In Skimpy Swimwear After Piling On Pounds. Enraged by every word in the title, she snatched the magazine back up.
The article paraded itself as homage to the soap actress, who was “daring” to go out in public in a swimsuit that showcased her stretchmarks and cellulite. Disgusting body shaming infested every paragraph of the article.
Evidence of the woman’s crimes were displayed in glossy photographs, as she laughed on the sandy shore, splashing with a small dog and a toddler. Her face was make-up free and carefree. She didn’t look “brave”, she looked radiant.
Panic bubbled in Josie’s belly, which she was now shielding self-consciously. What if the confidence she had been feeling towards her own body had mistakenly been over-confidence?
Had Josie been so blinded by the miracle she had held in her tummy, that she had failed to see the stretch marks and cellulite the way the rest of the world would? Through an unrelenting male gaze? To have her own measurements weighed against impossible, ever-changing standards of perceived beauty?
The minibus pulled up outside the glass door. Josie almost regretted having that delicious slab of yule log, but then remembered how rich that chocolate was and told herself not to be silly.
The receptionist offered a professional smile as the raucous band of new mums on the loose filed into the foyer. Inga was in the centre of the crowd, flitting around like the social butterfly she was.
Josie stood awkwardly on the edge of the huddle, as a tall woman with purple hair clambered onto a barstool. The receptionist cringed, but seeing a hush finally fall among the group, she withheld her objections.
The purple-haired woman addressed the crowd.
“I know we all might be a bit nervous about leaving our mini-mes behind today.” There were a few chuckles at this, but surprisingly to Josie, a few solemn nods, too. “But it’s so important to show ourselves some love. We can only look after our little ones if we look after ourselves.
“And you,” she pointed a glittery silver nail at the group and beamed warmly, “are so deserving of some self-love!
Your bodies have done something truly amazing, and it’s time you said thank you, and took some much-deserved time to reflect on how amazing you are.
“So, let’s kick off our Christmas pamper party with a few presents!”
She held up red and green glittery gift bags, and summoned each woman to come and receive their goodies.
“Zara, Kalisha, Jenna, Claire, Inga, Charlotte, Deanna, Tre, Saanvi, Poppy. And last but not least, our newbie – Josie!” Kylie grinned as she handed over the swag bag.
Hustled along by the crowd of women, Josie tried to catch Inga’s attention. She could just see her little friend’s blonde head bobbing excitedly as she chattered to a woman whose ginger hair was piled and knotted on top of her head.
Once inside the changing rooms, Josie beelined for the cubicles to catch her breath. She listened to the excited chatter as the rest of the women opened their gifts in the shared space.
Curiously Josie opened the bag, and glitter sprinkled all over the wet floor. She pulled out a red velvet robe trimmed with white feathers. With her newfound self-consciousness, she appreciated the festive cover-up.
But her jaw dropped when below the robe she unearthed a hideous, emerald-green swimsuit. Tiny reindeer wearing scarves and sunglasses ice-skated all over the green Lycra fabric.
How could she wear this monstrosity in front of a group of strangers? Was this a cruel joke? Some sort of hazing to be part of the “cool mums club”?
She’d come out in this festive fashion fiasco, and they’d all drown themselves laughing at her. She could hear them now outside her changing room, laughing and singing Mariah Carey lyrics as they filed out towards the pool.
Well, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She wouldn’t be laughed at, like a bad Christmas cracker joke.
Josie plunged the reindeer-printed swimsuit into the depths of her bag and fished out her trusty red bikini. She wrapped the red velvet robe tightly around her exposed body (a cover-up was a cover-up, after all) and walked gingerly towards the pool entrance.
The spa looked decadently festive. Enormous, lush wreaths framed the walls. Fairy lights were entwined around the rafters and sparkled over the swimming pool.
Soft, instrumental renditions of Christmas carols echoed off the tiles. It was barely audible over the gaggle of scarlet-draped women, spread across sunloungers lining the side of the pool.
Inga stood up and waved frantically as Josie’s sliders squelched along the tiles.
“Hey, gorgeous! I’m so proud of you for coming!” Inga whispered as she grabbed Josie’s hands and pulled her down on to the bed next to hers.
“You look amazing in that cozzy! I wish I could wear a bikini top like that, but I just can’t fill it.” Inga gestured to her tiny torso. Her belly, not so long ago full and pregnant, was now enviably flat, but so was her chest.
Josie actually loved her own big boobs, and felt a bit perkier.
“Really? What about you? Your waist looks incredible,” she said.
It’s so weird how we’re never happy with what we have, isn’t it? Santa would call that ingratitude!
At this, the purple-haired woman joined them. She wiggled her glittery manicured fingers in Josie’s direction.
“We’re so glad you’re here, Josie!”
She paused, then called dramatically, “And what better way to introduce everyone than with a fashion show?”
So, Josie was right. They planned to humiliate her and make her do an awkward icebreaker and prance about in her disgusting reindeer swimsuit.
But Kylie walked to the end of the pool. She dropped her red velvet Santa robe to the ground, revealing a revolting lime-green swimsuit. Purple and red tinsel, clearly Superglued on, criss-crossed her bosom, and baubles shook violently when she shimmied her bum.
“My name is Kylie, I’m a mum of three,” she said. “And all I want for Christmas is for my teenage son to uncrumple his socks before he puts them in the wash. And to talk to me like I’m a human being!”
Then she jumped into the pool. The room was flooded in laughter, and water.
One by one, each woman from the group took her cue at the top end of the pool, introduced herself, gushed over or gently criticised her kids, and then dropped her robe to sashay down the edge of the pool.
Josie sat in wide-eyed awe. Each woman revealed an increasingly cheesy swimsuit. There were prints of snowmen playing poker, green-and-red striped elf-style Lycra, and even a polar bear bikini that was actually furry!
Each woman modelled their festive fashion faux pas with pride and good humour on incredibly normal bodies!
There were big bums, and flat bums, squishy bellies, ample boobs and flat chests, and wonderful, wobbly cellulite.
Each woman looked as unique as the swimsuit she wore. And each woman looked beautiful.
Their confessions about their innermost desires for Christmas deeply touched Josie. The women were truthful and raw. Zara wanted a nipple balm that protected during teething. Kaleesha was desperate to just get to finish one meal while it was still hot.
Tre was dreading her maternity leave coming to an end, while Saanvi was dying to return to work and have some adult conversation. Deanna, meanwhile, was hoping that the postnatal depression was finally subsiding.
The women dived into the pool and washed away their burdens. They broke through the surface of the water with big smiles and runny mascara.
Laughter bounced off the tiles, and the pool shimmered with glittery swimsuits. The new mums bobbed in the pool, eagerly grinning at Josie and encouraging her to join them.
“I need a minute,” Josie burst out, and fled from the pool area.
The women fell silent, and looked around, concerned. Had they pushed the new recruit too hard? Scared her off?
“I’d better go and check on her,” Inga said, as she paddled to the edge of the pool. But before she could heave herself out, the entrance door was flung open, shaking the pine wreaths on the wall.
Filling the doorway, in emerald-green glory, stood Josie. She’d hurriedly thrown on her reindeer-bedazzled swimsuit, and a little out of breath, she announced with a shaky voice, “My name is Josie.
I’m a first-time mum of a wonderful little girl who I want to raise to be proud of who she is, happy in her own skin. And all I want for Christmas is to feel the same way, so I can show her how it’s done!
Josie ran towards the pool and jumped as high as she could. She tucked up her knees, and cannonballed into the pool, hearing the tremendous splash as she plunged below the water.
She breached the surface with a huge smile on her face and was greeted by deafening applause and cheers.
Inga swam over as fast as her arms could paddle, wrapping herself around Josie in a full-body hug that nearly drowned them both.
A giggling Kylie dragged them both to the pool edge.
“I thought I was going to have to grab a life-wreath off the wall! We’ve all earned a drink after that!”
She fished in her cleavage and produced a glittery silver whisky flask.
“Anyone for warming up with a jacuzzi and a hot toddy?”
Josie left the changing room with a new swimsuit, new numbers stored in her phone and newfound admiration for how incredible women really were.
The afternoon had flown by in a blizzard of laughter. There had been a few drinks, back massages, parenting fails, adorable anecdotes, whispered confidences about how the bathroom had become a secret safe haven, the organising of a clothes swap, and it finished with an off-key rendition of Jingle Bells (plus new dance routine).
Josie and the rest of the women stood in the shiny foyer. Snow was falling across the car park, and an icy chill crept in each time the doors opened.
Josie’s phone buzzed. Keiran had sent a photo of a content and milk-drunk Flora, smiling in her sleep. I’ve missed you, Mummy, but I’ve had a good day. I hope you have, too. Are you ready to come home to me? he’d written.
Josie looked up at her new friends. Kalisha was trying to show Tre how to nail the spin move from their dodgy dance routine, with no success.
Not yet, my love, Josie typed back, then slipped her phone into her bag.
“Anyone fancy a hot chocolate at the bar?” Josie asked, to a cheer from a rowdy group of happy mums, and a sigh from an exasperated receptionist.
