Christmas was nearing. Pam still hadn’t said a word, but was chatty with her little sister. Helene would mix the milk into the bowl as Pam recited the amount of each thing to mix into the batter. She would count to twenty, then excitedly squeal “ready or not!” to find Penny hiding in the cupboard. Helene was trying to find “loop holes” to get a word from her. She would bundle them up in mittens and snow jackets and drive them up to the local neighborhood park. She encouraged them to play hide and seek in the park, but Pam just stood there, her legs shaky. Penny would giggle and run, begging for Pam to begin counting. Other children would play on the swings, and Pam would watch each child nervously. 

••

Helene loved her mother. At least that’s what she told herself over and over again. Her mother raised her well, was dependable and caring, but she wasn’t afraid to share her mind and saw everything as black and white. Of course this mindset wasn’t successful when applied to Pam. As Christmas neared, she became apprehensive of being with the high-strung woman. She came every other year because of the length between them and her going to visit her sister who was living in California. The last time she had seen Pam was in preschool. She wasn’t sure she was ready for her to see the progress… or lack there of she had made. 

The door bell range, and Penny ran with happy squeals to open it. Helene followed to see her mother, Meemaw, enter. 

••

Pam’s mom had talked to her in a gentle, soothing voice. Explaining that Meemaw would really appreciate hearing a few words from her. Pam knew Meemaw was coming and it made her so nervous that she had her cereal come up. Pam wanted to please her mom, to see her eyes light up. She had told herself she would. She would go to her Meemaw and say hello. She would hug and talk to her grandma like Penny did. She knew Meemaw was family. It seemed silly that she was so anxious to speak to her grandmother. Every child spoke to their grandmother and had a tight bond with them. She watched Penny sit on Meemaw’s lap, Penny enthusiastically sharing about her friends she made at preschool and showing off her new favorite dress. Pam would want to pitch in, to share, but it seemed so impossible, like she didn’t have a choice. When she heard the door bell, she courageously tipped toed from the stairs in her pink sweater with snowflakes. The kitchen smelled of ginger bread and hot chocolate. She could do this. 

“Oh Pammy, hi sweetie! Come say hi to your Meemaw,” her Meemaw prompted, clearly remembering her previous visits. 

Pam opened her mouth, the words at the ready. She had gone over what she would say over and over again. She had written them down, rehearsed them, spelled them, but suddenly she lost them. The words had vanished and been replaced with anxiety. The sweater felt itchy and tight, the smell of gingerbread overwhelming, the hard wood floor’s coldness felt as if it was stinging. Meemaw firmly looked at her expectingly, then spun around to go into the living room, showing no insight into her emotion. Pam had failed her mama’s wish, all she wanted was for her to speak. 

••

As soon as Meemaw walked into the living room, Helene knew how her encounter with Pam has gone. The old fashioned woman positioned herself into the floral patterned chair and looked to Helene and her husband. 

“Utterly disrespectful, that Pamela of yours is.”

“No mom, she’s just shy,” Helene said, trying to convince her mother, but also herself, “she wants to talk, she’s just scared.”

Bill snickered, “yeah she won’t talk to anyone, don’t feel too special.”

Helene sent him a look.

“Well I find it unacceptable that you cannot get your child to respond to authority figures. You should adjust your parenting and fix her up,” Meemaw snapped, “I would never let this slide as her mother.”

Helene looked to Bill, but he was engrossed in the game on the tv. She was frustrated with his lack of anger towards the way her mother was talking about their daughter. He should care more. Helene shut her eyes, unable to have this conversation with her mother again. 

“If I knew how to help her, I would, Mom,” Helene mumbled. She had used everything: bribes, consequences, reassurance. Nothing seemed to work. 

••

Their Christmas meal was rather quiet, but nothing too strenuous in regards to frustrations between the family members. Penny loudly shared about each aspect of her day, happily boasting about knowing the full ABCs. Pam stayed silent, replying with a quick nod, or looking to Helene when spoken to. Eventually, Bill picked up his napkin and tossed it on the table. 

“Pam, just say something, will you?” he wasn’t mad at her, he was just sorry for her and the walls she had built around herself. His normally chatty child at meal time was silent and it was hard to take in. As a stay at home mom, Helene saw this daily, but Bill never seemed to get used to shock of silence Pam had upon the entrance of anyone other that him, Penny, or Helene. 

“Bill,” Helene said, giving him a not now look. 

He lowered himself into the seat. Meemaw made eye contact with Helene, saying I told you so. Helene looked to Pam, her small body beginning to tense. She looked so vulnerable. She looked ashamed. Her eyes were large. The first grader played with a loose string on her sleeve, her anxious mind trying pacing itself. Pam wasn’t surprised by the outburst, it was rather common, but it still didn’t take away the way she felt responsible for their upset feelings. She didn’t want to be the reason someone was ever upset or spoke in harsh tones. She stayed quiet in hopes of not upsetting anyone, in hopes of people having nothing against her. Yet, that seemed to only make it worse- although Pam wouldn’t know, as she never took the chances of talking to see what would actually happen. Silence was easier, gave her more control when navigating life. Silence was comfortable, familiar. Pam was never one to take a chance.