Page 2 of Once Upon a Christmas Carol

By the time Carol rolled her “lightweight” carry-on through the crowded Gerald R.

Ford International Airport, it was feeling heavier.

Outside, illuminated by airport lights, snow was starting to fly, and inside, all the TVs were tuned to news and weather stations as anchors reported that several major storm fronts had converged on the Eastern seaboard from Maine to Florida and were wreaking havoc on air travel.

As she walked through, trying to decide what to do now, Carol noticed how every gate was bearing the dreaded “canceled” signs.

Instead of looking like a terminal, the place resembled a messy campground with people and bags piling up everywhere.

Although she knew it was probably pointless, Carol joined a herd of other disgruntled travelers who were lined up in front of Delta’s information counter, staffed by a single clerk.

When Carol’s turn finally came, she could see the weary young woman had memorized her spiel and was politely reciting the same message she’d given the rest.

“We’re so sorry for your inconvenience. It’s unlikely that any flights will go out before midday tomorrow, but we do expect this storm to pass by then.

We suggest you wait it out in an airport hotel and contact us later for more flight information.

Probably by morning.” The clerk smiled stiffly and handed Carol a list of airline numbers and domains as well as the names of some local hotels. “Have a good day.”

Carol thanked her and, resisting the urge to point out it was nighttime, reached for her phone.

After calling several of the nearby hotels, where she either got a busy signal or a recording saying there were no vacancies, she gave up.

Checking the time, she realized that here in the eastern portion of the country, morning was just a few hours away.

Why not simply camp out in the airport and be first in line for morning flights?

And like scores of other weary travelers hoping to get comfy, she found a corner in a less-crowded gate, secured a seat near the window, and returned to her beach read, using her carry-on as a footstool.

It helped a little, but it wasn’t like stretching out on a sunny Bahamian beach without a care in the world . .. Hopefully by tomorrow.

The book failed to transport her, and out the nearby window, the winter sky remained dark, snow continued to fall, and morning felt like it had been abducted by some evil force.

Carol’s back throbbed from the hard seat, and her sandaled feet felt like swollen ice cubes.

To thaw them and get some blood flowing, she found a kiosk with stale coffee and walked around the terminal, sipping and watching for an agent to come and occupy the ticket counter where a few disgruntled travelers were already clustered like vultures.

Finally, a dull gray light began to illuminate one of the big windows. Even then the only thing really visible was a nearby runway blanketed in snow with even more blowing down in what appeared to be nearly whiteout conditions. A chill ran through Carol as she looked out on the scene.

After getting a fresher cup of coffee, she stood with a crowd gathered around the TVs listening as newscasters called this “the storm of the century,” which sounded more unbelievable each time they said it.

Hadn’t they been saying that for years now?

But clearly no flights would depart this airport anytime soon.

Feeling totally discombobulated, Carol sat down to ponder her situation.

Getting a hotel seemed like an impossible dream but she tried anyway, hoping some travelers might’ve checked out in hopes of finding flights.

After many fruitless calls, she suddenly recalled her mom had an older sister who lived somewhere in Michigan.

Although her mother and aunt were estranged, Carol remembered how this aunt used to send Christmas cards.

Greetings her mom tossed in the trash, sometimes unopened, along with some harsh muttered words.

For as long as Carol could remember, her mom had harbored a boatload of anger and resentment toward her older sister, but she’d always refused to divulge her reasons.

Still, if Carol had a relative living nearby, perhaps they’d have a spare bed.

Anything was better than another night trying to sleep in an uncomfortable chair among strangers.

Of course, Michigan was a large state, and it was very possible this aunt lived too far away.

Or that she’d moved. And even if her home was nearby, could Carol possibly impose on someone she’d never met?

Just until flights resumed? She wondered how old this aunt might be.

Mom used to say that Maria helped raise her, but Mom was in her mid-sixties.

Her sister might be ancient, or she could have passed on.

And road travel in this weather could be too perilous for an elderly woman.

Besides that, what about the sisterly dispute?

Of course, that was a long time ago, and Carol was well aware that Mom could hold grudges.

Maybe she’d brought this estrangement on herself .

.. Or this older sister could be a real witch.

Feeling she had little to lose, Carol picked up her phone, which was in desperate need of a charge.

She hadn’t spoken to her mother in ages.

They rarely talked anymore, not even at Christmastime.

Did she really want to deal with her now?

It was possible her mother’s number had changed.

That had happened before. But feeling desperate and hopeless, she gave it a try.

To her surprise, her mom answered right away in her deep, raspy voice.

“Mom, uh, is that you?” Carol suddenly felt tongue-tied.

“Carol Louise!” Mom said eagerly. “I was just thinking of you last night. How serendipitous that you should call. How are you doing, darling?”

“Well, not so good actually.” Carol gave a quick lowdown on her unraveling travel plans. “So I’m kind of stuck in Grand Rapids of all places.”

“That explains why you’re calling so early. But believe it or not, I was actually awake.”

“Sorry. I forgot the time difference.”

“That’s okay. I was just sitting out here on the patio in the moonlight having me a smoke. Please, no lectures. But, good grief, if you have to be stuck somewhere, why Grand Rapids? Isn’t that in the northeast somewhere?”

“It’s in Michigan. And it wasn’t exactly my choice to get stuck here.” Carol tried to keep exasperation from her voice. After all, her mom was being surprisingly friendly.

“Too bad you didn’t get laid over down here in Phoenix. We’re having a beautiful weather, and—”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Carol interrupted. Her mom could go on and on about trivial matters when she was in the mood, which she seemed to be now. “I actually called because I think I remember you mentioned having a sister up here in Michigan.”

“Oh, yeah, Maria.” Her tone grew sharper. “I suppose she still lives up there. She’s been there forever.”

“You don’t happen to have her phone number, do you?”

“Are you kidding?” Her laugh sounded more like a cackle, followed by a smoker’s cough. “Sorry, sweetie, but Maria and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”

“Right.” Carol frowned. “What about her full name? Or her husband’s name. Maybe I could look them up.”

“Good grief. Why would you do that?”

“Because half the holiday travelers are stranded here, there are no hotel vacancies, and I just spent the night in the airport and am tired.”

“Oh, well then, I suppose any port in a storm.” She humphed. “Well, her name is Maria O’Harney. I remember the O’Harney name because she married an Irish man and Dad never forgave her for that.”

“I see. And do you recall Mr. O’Harney’s first name?”

“Ron? Tom? Don?” She paused. “Yes, that’s it. Donald O’Harney.”

“Great. Now do you happen to know where they live? Is it anywhere near Grand Rapids by any chance?”

“Really? You expect me to remember that too?” Another pause.

“Well, I do recall he was a teacher in Grand Rapids, but that was eons ago.” Mom hemmed and hawed.

“You know, Maria used to send me Christmas cards. That is until Ed and me moved out here. She either quit sending them or the post office just don’t forward them anymore.

But seems I recall Dad saying that Donald gave up a perfectly good teaching job to buy a silly little farm in a one-horse town. Sounded like a dumb move to me.”

“Do you have any idea what the town was called? That might help.”

Mom started rattling some names off. “It had Creek or Springs or some kind of water word in it, but my memory is getting more and more like Swiss cheese these days. There’s some holes.” She laughed.

“Well, that might be enough to start a search. Thanks, Mom.” Carol sighed. “It’s not like I have many options anyway or anything else to do.” She paused when her phone beeped. “I have to go before my cell battery gives out. “If I do find your sister, do you want me to tell her hello for you?”

Mom coughed loudly. “No thanks, sweetie. As far as I’m concerned, Maria is dead.”

“Okay then.” Carol took a deep breath. “I hope you and Ed have a good Christmas.”

“You too, darling. Nice to hear your voice. Call me again and let me know how things turn out, okay?”

Carol agreed to do this but felt fairly certain she would “conveniently” forget. Hopefully she’d be so occupied with her Bahamian vacation by tomorrow, she’d be too busy to call anyone. That seemed a reasonable excuse.