PART4-I Said “All Good” When My Parents Chose My Sister—They Had No Idea What Came Next

PART 4

I looked away. Part of me wanted to feel satisfied. I didn’t.

“Did she say anything else?” “Yes.” “What?”

“She asked me if you’d had people over for Christmas.” I looked toward the dining room. The empty plates.

The wine glasses. The candles. “Yes.”

“Your mother asked who.” I hesitated. “Friends.

Employees. People from my company.” Linda was quiet.

Then she said, “She sounded embarrassed.” I didn’t know what to say. So I thanked her.

Before hanging up, Linda said one more thing. “Miranda?” “Yes?”

“Your mother kept saying, ‘We thought she was struggling.’” My stomach dropped. “What?”

“She said she and your father believed you were still trying to get your business off the ground.” I stared at the fireplace. I had been building that business for nearly ten years.

I had bought my first property with money I saved from working two jobs. I had slept in unfinished rooms while renovating houses. I had spent nights reading building codes.

I had driven three hours to inspect properties before sunrise. I had lost deals. I had made mistakes.

I had rebuilt. And somewhere along the way, my parents had decided I was still struggling. Not because they had asked.

Because Brooke had apparently told them. I ended the call. Megan was sitting across from me.

“What now?” I looked at her. “I think I need answers.”

She nodded. “From your parents?” “No.”

I picked up my phone. “From Brooke.” I called her.

She answered on the fourth ring. “Hey.” Her voice sounded unusually casual.

“Hi, Brooke.” “What are you doing?” “Calling you.”

She laughed. “I know that.” “No.

I mean, why did you tell Mom and Dad I wasn’t having Christmas?” Silence. Complete silence.

Then she said, “What are you talking about?” “You told them I wasn’t having Christmas.” “I didn’t.”

“Mom told me.” “She misunderstood.” “She said you told them I was going away.”

“I said you might be busy.” “That’s not what she said.” Brooke sighed.

“Miranda, why are you making this a thing?” I stood. “Because you cost me Christmas with my parents.”

“You invited them.” “Yes.” “And they chose to help me.”

“No.” I looked out the window. “You told them not to come.”

“I did not.” “Then why did they believe you?” She didn’t answer.

I waited. Finally, Brooke said, “Maybe they just wanted to help me.” “On Christmas?”

“I needed groceries.” “You live eleven minutes away from them.” “So?”

“So they could have come here afterward.” Another silence. Then Brooke’s voice changed.

“You always do this.” “Do what?” “Make everything about yourself.”

I almost smiled. That sentence was so familiar. “You mean like my birthday?”

“Don’t start.” “My graduation?” “Miranda.”

“My award?” “Enough.” “No.”

I spoke calmly. “For once, I’m not going to make myself smaller so you can feel comfortable.” She said nothing.

Then I asked: “Why didn’t you want them here?” She laughed. “I didn’t care.”

“That’s not true.” “Believe whatever you want.” “Did you know about the television special?”

Silence. That was my answer. “You knew.”

“No.” “You knew.” “I saw something online.”

“When?” “A few days ago.” My heart sank.

“And you knew it was my house?” “Yes.” “Then why didn’t you tell them?”

She didn’t respond. “Brooke?” Finally, she said: “Because they would have made a big deal about it.”

“What does that mean?” “You know what it means.” “No.

Explain it.” She sighed. “You’ve always been the successful one.”

I froze. “Excuse me?” “You have the career.

The house. The company. The perfect life.”

“My life isn’t perfect.” “That’s not the point.” “Then what is?”

Her voice cracked. “The point is that every time you accomplish something, everyone looks at me.” I sat down.

“So you lied to our parents because you didn’t want them to see my house?” “I didn’t lie.” “You did.”

“I just didn’t tell them.” “That is still a choice.” She didn’t answer.

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