PART4

My sister looked at her.

“Please don’t start.”

“No,” Aunt Tamson said. “You don’t get to tell everybody not to start. Your sister has been paying your bills, your father has lost retirement money, and now you’ve put her name on a loan?”

Belle slammed her hand against the table.

“Everyone is acting like I’m some kind of criminal!”

I finally answered.

“Then stop doing things that hurt people who love you.”

She stared at me.

For a moment, I thought she might throw something.

Instead, she picked up her purse.

“I’m leaving.”

Dad didn’t move.

“You’re not finished talking.”

“I can’t sit here while everyone attacks me!”

Dad’s voice became firm.

“Your sister sat here for three years while you took money from her. She listened to you cry. She gave you her savings. And tonight, you called her useless.”

Belle looked at him.

He continued.

“If anyone has earned the right to leave this table, it’s Rion.”

That was the first time I had heard Dad defend me so directly.

And somehow, that hurt almost as much as everything else.

Because I wondered how many Christmas dinners I had sat through waiting for him to say something like that.

Belle didn’t leave.

She slowly put her purse back on the chair.

For the next twenty minutes, Dad asked questions.

He wanted dates.

He wanted amounts.

He wanted to know how many accounts she had borrowed from and whether there were other family members involved.

Belle answered some questions and avoided others.

Eventually, Aunt Tamson spoke.

“I need to tell you something.”

Everyone turned toward her.

She looked uncomfortable.

“Belle asked me for twelve thousand dollars last summer.”

Dad’s face tightened.

“What?”

“She said she had an emergency with her apartment. She told me she was behind on rent and could lose the place.”

Belle lowered her head.

Aunt Tamson continued.

“I gave her four thousand. I couldn’t afford twelve, but she promised she would pay me back.”

Mom looked at her daughter.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Aunt Tamson gave a sad little laugh.

“Because Belle told me not to. She said you were already worried about her.”

Dad rubbed his forehead.

“Did she ask anyone else?”

My uncle slowly raised his hand.

“Five thousand,” he said.

Then one cousin admitted that Belle had borrowed fifteen hundred dollars.

Another said she had asked for help with a credit card payment.

The numbers began adding up.

And the worst part wasn’t the money.

It was realizing how carefully she had divided us.

She had made each person believe they were helping her through a private difficulty.

She had made each of us promise to keep it secret.

And because we loved her, we had respected those promises.

We had unknowingly helped her keep the truth from one another.

Dad finally leaned back.

“How many people?”

Nobody answered.

Belle stared at the table.

I felt something heavy settle in my chest.

I had thought I was the only one.

I wasn’t.

At around ten thirty, Mom finally stood up.

She walked into the kitchen and returned with a small plate.

On it was a slice of the cake I had brought.

She placed it in front of me.

“I haven’t even tried your cake,” she said.

I looked down.

The vanilla icing had a small crack along one side.

“It isn’t anything special,” I replied.

Mom shook her head.

“It’s something you made.”

She took a bite.

Then another.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

I looked away.

I didn’t want to cry in front of everyone.

Not because I was ashamed.

Because I was tired.

Mom reached across the table and held my hand.

“I’m sorry.”

I nodded.

She squeezed my fingers.

“I should have noticed.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Because she should have.

Dad should have.

Everyone should have.

But I also knew that families were complicated, and sometimes the people who appeared strongest were the ones nobody thought to check on.

For years, I had made it easy for everyone.

I never complained.

I never asked for help.

I never told anyone how difficult things were becoming.

And because I always managed to keep standing, they assumed I was fine.

That didn’t excuse what Belle had done.

But it explained something about me.

I had confused being dependable with being responsible for everybody.

And I was finally beginning to understand the difference.

Around eleven, Dad asked Belle to sit with him in the living room.

He didn’t shout.

He didn’t threaten her.

He simply said he wanted the truth.

Mom went with them.

I stayed at the dining table with Aunt Tamson.

For a while, we listened to the quiet voices coming from the other room.

Then Aunt Tamson reached over and touched my arm.

“You know something, Rion?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to rescue people to prove you love them.”

I looked at her.

She smiled sadly.

“I wish somebody had told you that years ago.”

I swallowed.

“Maybe I needed to learn it myself.”

She nodded.

Then she glanced at the folder.

“Are you going to help her again?”

I looked toward the living room.

Through the doorway, I could see Belle sitting on the couch with her hands folded in her lap.

Dad was speaking.

Mom was listening.

My sister looked smaller than I had ever seen her.

“No,” I said.

Aunt Tamson nodded.

“Good.”

But I wasn’t finished.

“I’ll help her find professional financial counseling if she wants it. I’ll help her understand what she needs to do to deal with the debts. I’ll even go with her to speak to someone about the loan application.”

Aunt Tamson looked at me.

“But I won’t pay another dollar.”

She smiled.

“That’s a good boundary.”

I looked at my hands.

For the first time in three years, I felt like they belonged to me again.

At midnight, Belle came back into the dining room.

Her eyes were red.

She looked at me for a long time before speaking.

“Rion, can we talk?”

I nodded.

She pulled out the chair opposite me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she whispered, “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

I looked at her.

“Neither did I.”

She rubbed her eyes.

“I was embarrassed. I lost my job, and then everything went wrong. I thought I could fix it before anybody found out.”

“Why didn’t you get another job?”

“I did.”

That surprised me.

“What?”

“I found work again in 2021.”

I stared at her.

She looked down.

“It wasn’t as much as I used to make. I was embarrassed to tell everyone I had taken a lower position.”

I waited.

“So I kept the lifestyle,” she continued. “I kept pretending everything was fine. I used the money you sent me to cover bills, but I also used some of it to pay for things I thought I needed to maintain appearances.”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…