Chapter 2 - The Audacity Of An Early Morning Call
The next morning, the silence in our home was heavy. Olivia stayed in her bedroom, working quietly on her robotics kit with the door shut. She didn’t come down for breakfast, which was completely out of character for a girl who usually woke up on Boxing Day buzzing with excitement to test out whatever gadgets Santa had left under the tree.
Around nine in the morning, my phone began vibrating against the granite kitchen counter. The caller ID flashed with a picture of my mother, Eleanor.
I picked up the phone, tapped the speaker icon, and set it down while pouring fresh coffee into my mug. ""Good morning, Mom.""
""Hannah? What on earth happened last night?"" Her voice was laced with that familiar, patronizing flutter that she used whenever she felt I was being inconvenient. ""You completely ruined Christmas dinner! We had the prime rib resting, and Monica spent all morning making that chocolate torte. You just grabbed your coats and left without saying goodbye to anyone. Daniel and his family were totally bewildered!""
""Did Monica tell you why I left, Mom?"" I asked, keeping my tone level.
""She said the children were having a little spat over a board game and you blew it completely out of proportion! Honestly, Hannah, you have always been so sensitive. Madison was just teasing. They're cousins! That's what kids do. You can't expect everyone to walk on eggshells around Olivia just because she’s quiet. You made your sister cry on Christmas night.""
I stood still, listening to the woman who had spent thirty-eight years invalidating every single boundary I had ever tried to establish. Whenever Daniel had mocked my thick glasses, I was too sensitive. Whenever Monica had borrowed my clothes, ruined them, and tossed them on the floor, I was too selfish to share. And now, my daughter was being subjected to the exact same emotional meat grinder.
""Mom,"" I said, my voice cutting through her monologue like a scalpel. ""Madison didn't have a spat over a board game. Madison announced to a room full of people that Olivia was stupid and annoying. And Monica sat there, laughed, and told her to 'say it nicer.' You were in the next room. You heard it. And you chose not to care.""
""Oh, for heaven's sake! It was a joke!"" my mother snapped, dropping the sweet facade. ""You have always had a chip on your shoulder because Monica has a vibrant personality and people gravitate toward her. You’ve always tried to make her feel inferior just because you have that fancy tech job. You need to apologize to your sister. She’s hosting the family again for New Year's Eve, and if you don't clear the air, it’s going to be terribly awkward.""
""She's hosting New Year's Eve?"" I asked, a bitter smile touching my lips.
""Yes! In her beautiful home. She’s planning a lovely sit-down dinner. So please, call her, apologize for the drama, and let’s move past this.""
""She won't be hosting anyone in that house, Mom,"" I said quietly.
There was a brief pause on the line. ""What is that supposed to mean?""
""The house belongs to me. Legally, entirely, and without question. Monica hasn't paid a dime in rent in five years. She pays electric and water, and she can't even manage to do that on time without complaining. The vacation is over.""
""Hannah Elizabeth! Don't you dare threaten your sister!"" my mother shrieked, her voice suddenly shrill. ""That is her home! Her family lives there! You promised her she could stay until they got on their feet!""
""Five years is plenty of time to stand up, Mom. If she can afford to cater a New Year's Eve dinner and buy Madison designer sneakers, she can afford to pay market rent. Or she can find somewhere else to live.""
I hung up the phone before my mother could scream another word. A second later, the screen lit up again. This time it was Monica.
I didn't answer. Instead, I pressed the side button to send the call straight to voicemail. Thirty seconds later, a notification popped up indicating a new voice message. I pressed play and put the phone to my ear.
""Hannah, who the hell do you think you are?"" Monica’s voice was screeching, stripped of all the playful sweetness she had displayed while tearing down my daughter the night before. ""Mom just called me in tears! If you think you can barge into my life and threaten my family over some childish nonsense, you're dead wrong. This is MY house! I’ve decorated it, I’ve planted the garden, I’ve lived here for five years! You can't just kick us out into the street because you’re having a temper tantrum! You’re a bitter, jealous monster, and everyone in this family knows it!""
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I deleted the voicemail. Then I opened my laptop and dialed Evelyn Vance’s direct line.
""Evelyn,"" I said when the seasoned attorney answered. ""I sent you the property documents last night. I want the formal Notice to Vacate drafted and served today. No grace periods beyond what the state strictly requires. I want them out.""
