“You are humiliating us.”
That stopped me.
“Who exactly is watching?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.”
Her voice dropped.
“Your father paid a fortune for this place.”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“He wanted one perfect Christmas before we moved.”
“Then why wasn’t I included in the perfect part?”
She stared at me.
For a second, something flickered in her face.
Not anger.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
“You always make things about yourself.”
I felt something inside me go cold.
“Interesting thing to say to the only adult who wasn’t invited to dinner.”
I drove into Galena twenty minutes later.
The hotel was expensive and nearly full.
I booked the last available room.
When I returned to the farmhouse, the atmosphere had shifted.
Lauren was upstairs unpacking.
Chris was outside with the children.
Dad was building a fire.
Mom was standing at the kitchen counter shredding cheese with unnecessary violence.
I carried my suitcase upstairs.
A closed door near the end of the hallway had a handwritten paper taped to it.
**DAD — PLEASE KEEP OUT**
I stared.
“Dad’s office,” Mom called from downstairs.
Something about her timing bothered me.
I turned the knob.
Locked.
I went back down.
“You lock an office in a rental house?”
Dad’s head lifted sharply.
Mom answered first.
“Your father has financial papers in there.”
“What financial papers?”
“Private ones.”
Dad gave me a warning look.
“Leave it, Jenna.”
I did.
At first.
Christmas Eve dinner became a battlefield disguised as appetizers.
Mom canceled the resort reservation after Lauren refused to go without me.
That should have fixed things.
Instead, Mom spent the evening letting everyone know what I had ruined.
“These scallops would have been wonderful.”
“The resort decor is supposed to be beautiful.”
“We lose the deposit, of course.”
Dad finally said, “Enough, Diane.”
That shocked all of us.
Mom stared at him.
He stared into the fire.
The children sensed the tension.
Ava became unusually quiet.
Noah asked twice if Christmas was canceled.
Ben cried because his carrot touched gravy.
So I did what I always did.
I helped.
Not because I had been assigned.
Because I chose to.
I made hot chocolate.
We built a blanket fort.
Chris opened wine.
Lauren cornered me in the pantry.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t make the schedule.”
“I should have questioned it.”
“You thought I volunteered.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“I think Mom has been doing this longer than I realized.”
“What do you mean?”
Lauren glanced toward the kitchen.
“She tells me you offered things.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What things?”
“The urgent care trip.”
“No. You called me.”
She frowned.
“I called because Mom said you’d already told her you were free.”
I stared at her.
“The basement flood?”
“Same.”
“No.”
Her face changed.
“Jen.”
“I had theater tickets that night.”
“You told me you didn’t.”
“Because when you called, you sounded panicked.”
Lauren covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
