Chapter 4 - The Family Summit
Word travels fast through a dysfunctional family network. By December 28, the narrative had mutated from “Vivian didn't host Christmas” to “Vivian has completely lost her mind and abandoned her children.”
I received a formal group text from Carol, written in all-caps, demanding an "emergency family meeting" at a local diner to address my "erratic behavior."
I didn't reply to the group chat. I simply blocked Carol, Meredith, and Colton’s numbers for forty-eight hours of peace.
On December 30, however, there was a knock on my front door at noon.
I opened it to find my younger sister, Roberta, standing on the porch with a canvas tote bag and a thermos of coffee. She wore a bright red parka and sensible hiking boots, her silver-streaked hair bobging in the wind.
"Well?" Roberta asked, pushing past me into the entryway without waiting for an invitation. "Are you dead, or are you just ignoring everyone like a legend?"
I couldn't help laughing. I closed the door and followed her into the kitchen.
"I’m ignoring everyone," I admitted, taking her coat and hanging it on the rack. "And it feels magnificent."
Roberta unzipped her tote bag and pulled out a container of homemade chicken noodle soup. "Carol called me crying yesterday for forty-five minutes. Apparently, she tried to throw a belated Christmas dinner at her house and burnt the ham so badly the fire department had to be called."
"You're joking," I said, leaning against the counter.
"I wish I were. Her husband tried to put out a grease fire with a cup of water. It was a total disaster." Roberta unscrewed the thermos and poured herself a cup of coffee. "She told me you’ve become a cold, unfeeling stranger who doesn't care about family anymore."
"And what did you tell her?"
"I told her that if she had spent the last twenty years treating you like a domestic servant instead of a human being, she’d probably have set her own kitchen on fire too out of sheer karma." Roberta grinned, taking a sip. "She hung up on me."
"Good."
"Seriously, Viv, how are you holding up? The family chat is losing its collective mind. Meredith is threatening to come over here with a social worker because she thinks you've 'withdrawn from reality.'"
"A social worker," I snorted. "Because I didn't cook a turkey?"
"Because you didn't enable them. To people like Carol and Colton, refusing to be exploited looks like a psychiatric crisis." Roberta set her mug down and looked at me with deep, warm affection. "I’m proud of you, you know. It took you long enough."
"It only took fifty-eight years," I sighed.
"So, what's next? They're planning a delegation. They think if they ambush you all at once, you'll break down and apologize."
"Let them try," I said, a cool resolve settling into my chest. "I have a lawyer appointment on January 3rd."
Roberta raised an eyebrow. "A lawyer? What for?"
May you like
"My will," I said calmly. "And my finances. For years, Walter and I kept our assets pooled, and after he died, I just kept paying for everything out of habit. It’s time to restructure things. If I’m going to enjoy my remaining years in peace, I need to make sure my estate isn't viewed as an inheritance-in-advance by people who only call me when they need a turkey roasted or a bill paid."
Roberta’s eyes lit up with fierce approval. "Do it. Cut off the financial taps, Viv. It's the only language they understand."
