Not all presents are wrapped in a bow. Some come covered in fur.
When my husband unexpectedly dies and leaves me the single father of our beautiful daughter, I vow to give her the life we’d planned for her. It isn’t easy, but I manage.
This year, she’s asked Santa for a trip to the beach for Christmas. There’s no way I can afford that. Or so I think. When my coworker mentions doing a house swap for the holidays, I’m intrigued. I might not be able to afford a fancy hotel, but switching homes for Christmas week? That’s doable.
Only the app wasn’t able to get us a swap to the beach, the only place available, an isolated cabin in the mountains. There were worse places to spend the holidays.
