Chapter 5 - THE LIVING ROOM SHOWDOWN
The noise in the living room died instantly.
Brandon was standing by the stone fireplace, a glass of bourbon in his hand, mid-sentence as he addressed his mother and brother. He froze, his mouth half-open, as I unbuttoned my coat and hung it neatly on the wooden coat rack by the door.
Donna stood up from the sofa, her face a mask of polite horror.
“Eleanor,” Donna gasped, clutching her pearls. “Good heavens, we were worried sick! Claire went out looking for you in this dreadful weather!”
“I’m fine, Donna,” I said, my voice echoing off the high ceilings of the foyer. I walked past them into the living room, my boots leaving small, damp prints on the hardwood floor.
Brandon recovered his composure quickly, his face flushing a dark, mottled red. He slammed his bourbon glass down onto the mahogany side table hard enough to make the crystal ring.
“Are you out of your mind?” Brandon barked, taking two aggressive steps toward me. “Walking out into a blizzard like a petulant child? Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused Claire tonight?”
I stopped walking and turned to face him.
At fifty-one, Brandon was tall, broad-shouldered, and accustomed to intimidating subordinates into compliance. But standing there in my living room, illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree Thomas and I had put up twenty years ago, he looked like a frightened boy wearing clothes that didn't belong to him.
“Stress, Brandon?” I asked calmly. “You invited your mother to sit at the head of my table, told me I had no place to sit in my own home, and you’re talking to me about stress?”
“I was honoring my mother!” Brandon shouted, his voice rising, forgetting for a moment to keep up the polite suburban facade he usually wore in public. “Mom flew in from Chicago! She’s a guest! You live here every day of the year; you couldn't give up one seat for a single evening without making a scene?”
“It wasn't a scene, Brandon,” I replied quietly, stepping closer to him until he was forced to look down into my eyes. “It was a boundary. And you just crossed the last one.”
“This is our house too!” Brandon sneered, losing control entirely. “Claire’s name is on the deed! We pay for the property taxes half the time! You’re just a guest here yourself!”
The entire room went dead silent.
May you like
Even the children, sitting quietly on the rug by the tree, stopped breathing.
My gaze flickered toward the doorway, where Claire had just walked in behind me, her coat still damp, her face pale as parchment. She had heard every single word.
