If I’m Mrs Christmas, Della thought, referring to the family’s nickname for her, I want a divorce!
There was nothing merry about shopping for a menopausal woman, for whom it seemed eternally summer, never winter.
She glanced in a mirror. Like Rudolph, she had a red nose. For the fifth time in as many minutes, she dabbed her perspiring face with a disintegrating tissue. She should, she supposed, have used the handkerchiefs her miserly mother-in-law