My Parents Threw Me Out on Christmas—Then the Bank Saw Grandpa’s Box
Good morning to you too.”
She smiled.
Victor pointed toward my suitcase.
“Enough sarcasm.”
“I didn’t invite you here so you could spend Christmas looking miserable and embarrassing everyone.”
I almost laughed.
“Embarrassing everyone how?”
Victor stared at me as if the answer were obvious.
“You lost your job.”
“Yes.”
“Brielle is getting engaged tonight.”
“I know.”
“Her fiancé’s family will be here.”
“I know.”
“They are serious people, Eliza.”
That one amused me.
“What am I?”
Brielle answered before he could.
“Currently?”
She lifted her champagne.
“Freelance.”
Victor laughed.
My mother, Helena Calloway, did not.
But she still said nothing.
That was her talent.
Silence while someone else did the damage.
I looked through the open doorway.
Half the Christmas meal was already prepared.
I had arrived two days early to help.
The cranberry sauce was mine.
The pie was mine.
