Every year, my husband’s company throws a Christmas party at a nice restaurant downtown. I always look forward to it. I get dressed up, we get a babysitter, and for one night I feel like a real adult again instead of someone whose entire vocabulary has been reduced to “no” and “because I said so.”
This year started like every other. I was standing near the bar, holding a glass of wine, chatting with a few of the other spouses, when Jennifer walked over. Jennifer is my husband’s coworker — early 40s, sharp haircut, the kind of woman who wears blazers on casual Fridays. I had met her twice before but we had never talked much.
She asked what I did for work. I said I stayed home with our three kids. She smiled in that particular way some people do — where the smile doesn’t reach their eyes — and said, “Oh. Just a stay-at-home mom. That must be… relaxing.”
The table went quiet. I took a sip of my wine.
I said, “It is. Although I imagine it’s harder than what you do.”
She laughed. “And what do I do?”
“You process insurance claims for denied medical procedures,” I said. “My sister had a claim denied by your company last spring. Stage 3 cancer treatment. I spent four months on the phone dealing with your department before we got it reversed. I learned a lot about how that process works — and who’s involved.”
The smile disappeared completely.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the night. But three of the other spouses came to find me before we left to say they were sorry about my sister — and that they thought I handled it beautifully.
My sister is in remission now. She’s doing well.
And I never did get an apology from Jennifer. But I also never needed one.