Chapter 5 - The Empty House
They drove off in a cloud of exhaust and muttering, leaving me standing on the porch alone. The silence that followed was loud, ringing in my ears. I sank down onto the top step, suddenly shaky. Had I done the right thing? What if Grandma would have wanted me to forgive them? What if I was just as cold as they were?
I went inside and walked through the empty rooms. I’d decorated just a little—garland over the mantel, a small tree in the corner, the same one Grandma had set up every year. I made myself tea and sat by the window watching the gray waves roll in. For the first time in fifteen years, I was at the family Christmas. And I was still alone.
May you like
That evening, my phone buzzed nonstop. How could you do this to us? You’re breaking the family apart. Think of your mother!. My mother’s text came last: I hope you’re happy. This is exactly why no one invited you—you only ever think of yourself.
I put the phone face down on the table and didn’t pick it up again. I pulled out Grandma’s old recipe box and found her handwriting, looping and warm: Nora’s Favorite Pecan Pie. I baked it that night, the kitchen filling with the smell of butter and sugar, and when it came out of the oven, I cut one slice, set it on the table, and ate it by the fire.
