**Diary Entry**
This is the situationsoon well have guests over, and youll need to make yourself scarce.
Heres the thingwere expecting guests soon, so youll have to go somewhere. You understand, dont you? Theres no celebrating with you around.
But son, where should we go? Weve no one here, Mum asked weakly.
How should I know? The neighbour in the village invited you oncego there.
Regret gnawed at Albert and Margarettheyd listened to their son, sold their cottage, and now this.
It hadnt been easy, but that place was *theirs*. They were the masters there. Here? They tiptoed around their own sons house, afraid to even step out of their room lest they anger their daughter-in-law, Catherine. Everything about them irritated herhow they shuffled in slippers, how they sipped tea, how they ate.
The only one who cared for them was their grandson, Oliver.
A handsome young man, madly in love with his grandparents. If his mother raised her voice in their presence, he didnt hesitate to snap back. But their son, Jameswhether afraid of his wife or indifferentnever defended them.
Oliver often had supper with themwhen he was home. These days, he was doing an internship, staying in a dorm nearby. He only visited on weekends.
For Albert and Margaret, his visits were like holidays. Now, with New Years Eve approaching, Oliver arrived early, just to wish them well.
He brought them giftswarm socks and gloves. He knew they were always cold. Plain gloves for Granddad, embroidered ones for Gran.
Margaret pressed them to her face and wept.
Gran, dont you like them?
Oh, my darlingtheyre perfect. The most precious thing Ive ever had.
She hugged him tight, and Oliver kissed her handssomething hed done since childhood. They always smelled of something lovelyapples, fresh dough, but most of all, warmth and love.
Right, thenhold on without me for three days. Im off with the lads, but Ill be back.
Go on, love, Gran whispered. Well manage.
Oliver packed his bag, said his goodbyes, and left. The old couple retreated to their room.
An hour later, Catherines shrill voice cut through the houseguests were coming. The *old people* couldnt stay. Embarrassing. Where would they even put everyone?
James mumbled something about not knowing where to send them, but Catherine wasnt listening.
Albert and Margaret sat frozen, not even daring to make tea. Albert fished out hidden biscuits, shared them silently.
Tears trembled in Margarets eyes. How had it come to thisbeing unwanted in their own family?
As dusk fell, James entered.
Right, soguests are coming. Youll have to leave.
But where? Mums voice trembled.
How should I know? That neighbour in the village invited you oncego there.
The buses arent running. We dont even know where the station is.
Catherine says youve got an hour.
James left. Albert and Margaret exchanged a look, swallowing their grief. They packed quietlythank God for Olivers gifts.
Outside, the world was dark and bustling.
Margaret looped her arm through Alberts, and they wandered toward the park, stopping at a café for tea and sandwichesthey hadnt eaten all day.
They lingered, dreading the cold. The wind howled; snow fell. In the park, they found a sheltera small gazebo. At least it was cover.
Huddled together, Margaret studied her gloves.
At least our Olivers got a good heart, Albert muttered.
We promised him wed manage, Gran sighed.
Time crawled. Snowflakes swirled. Christmas lights flickered in windows.
Thena soft whine.
A spaniel nosed Margarets knee, whimpering. She smiled, stroking his head.
Lost, are you?
A womans voice called, Lord! Where are you? Time to go home!
The dog barked.
Lord! Here, boy!
A young woman hurried overEmily. Her dog had his paws on Margarets lap.
Im so sorryhes harmless. Have you been here long?
A while, love. Hes a sweet one.
Why arent you at home? Its freezingNew Years almost here.
Silence.
Youve nowhere to go, have you?
Lord refused to leave Grans side.
Rightwere not staying here. Come with me.
Oh, love, we couldnt
I live alonejust Lord and me. Id love the company.
They exchanged glances, then stoodstiff with cold despite Olivers socks.
Walking slowly, Lord trotted ahead, tail wagging. Emily listened as Margaret explained.
Her heart ached. *How could anyone turn away their own parents?*
Her flat was warm, smelling of roasting turkey. They drank tea first, thawing out before setting the table.
The Christmas tree glowed. It felt like home.
At midnight, they toasted. For the first time in ages, Albert and Margaret felt welcome.
Morning came. Emily wouldnt hear of them leaving. Stay the week, she insisted.
Oliver returned to an empty house.
Mumwhere are Gran and Granddad?
How should I know? They left.
*Left?* On New Years Eve?
We had guests! Its embarrassing
*Youre* the embarrassment! Oliver stormed out.
Hours passed. Despair clawed at him.
Thena woman walking a spaniel.
And on her handsGrans gloves.
Excuse mewhere did you get those?
Emily smiled. You must be Oliver.
She led him home. Inside, the scent of pancakes filled the air.
Look who we found, Emily called.
Gran burst into tears. Granddad hugged him tight.
They talked late into the night. Emily convinced themtheyd stay with her. Oliver visited often.
Once, the flat had been just Emily and Lord. Now, it brimmed with lifewarmth, laughter, and a very spoiled spaniel who chose whose bed to hog.
As for Oliver and Emily? Well, thats another story.
Kindnessthats the heart of it. Sometimes, all it takes is a smile, a question, a small act.
It always comes back.
