By some miracle, Mom calls on Christmas Day and invites me over to lunch at my sister's house.
Jake, apparently forgetting that the most important work day of the year for him was Christmas Day, did not stay for my french toast casserole and bacon brunch. He was up long before Audrey and I and out the door to prepare for Mass, leaving a note that he'd be back for turkey dinner.
"Just once, I'd like to have Christmas day off," he grumbled in the note. I didn't go to Mass anymore, but if I did I'd be there. He underestimates himself as a priest, his services are brilliant, the homilies he delivers are heartfelt and give people hope. He's the reason why the church is packed every Sunday and especially at Christmas. I wish he saw in himself how others see him.
Jake has long said he has one foot out the door of the priesthood and once asked me if he should leave. "I certainly can't tell you," I said. Instead, I asked him to listen to whatever gut instinct led him to the priesthood in the first place, and see what that inner voice said. He's still a priest, so I guess he still feels the calling. But he's tired, I can see it in his eyes. And he's unhappy.
With the French toast casserole in the oven and coffee in hand, I'm waiting for Audrey to get up when I get the call from Mom. "Look, this is silly. It's Christmas! Come to Christmas lunch at Julie's, we're having all your favourite dishes and the whole family will be there. We won't talk about Rob or the money, I promise."
I certainly didn't expect that.
After a sweet and lovely Christmas morning with Audrey, I find myself walking into my sister's kitchen carrying a dish of mashed turnip and sweet potatoes, enveloped in familiar smells of roasting meat, cranberry and gingerbread. A giant cheer rises up from the crowd, as if a celebrity has walked in and I'm swamped in hugs and kisses. I guess Christmas really does wash away hurt feelings and bad vibes.
After accepting the fact that I'd be spending a lonely, quiet Christmas, this is a stunning turn of events. Everyone's laughing and red-faced from the heat of the room and the cheer in their glasses. My mom flutters around topping up everyone's wine and beer, my sister is run off her feet serving food and I jump in to help.
It's lovely. But it's deeply weird.
Everyone is acting as if nothing has happened. There's a feeling of familiarity in the gathering, but a quiet undercurrent of tension and I'm not sure if it's because of me or not. I decide to go along and pretend like everyone in the name of Christmas and family unity.
"Where's Audrey, Darcey?" Aunt Eva is back to her cheerful self.
"Over at the boyfriend's house."
"Oooh, is it serious?"
"I hope not. I was her age when I met her father," I say with a grimace, accepting a crystal glass of white wine and sitting next to my cousins to make small talk.
Just like Mom said, no one is talking about the money and at first, I'm glad. But as the afternoon goes on, I can't stand the strangeness of it all. When folks start to get their coats on and head out the door, Eva gives me a big hug.
"We're all just so pleased you're here," she says.
"Does this mean you've all seen the light?"
I didn't mean to say it so loudly but it's as if all commotion stopped in the room as soon as I opened my mouth.
Eva looks confused. I catch Julie's glare from across the room.
"Why yes. Christmas isn't the time to have harsh feelings with the ones you love. It's time to put all that aside and come together as a family and be close, the way we used to be. Let bygones be bygones."
My sister is still glaring, so I give Eva a hug and decide not to push further.
When the relatives have all gone and Mom is napping, I help Julie clean up the kitchen.
"What was that look for?" I say, drying the last dish and putting it away.
"I didn't want you spoiling the afternoon by bringing up the money."
"I'm not spoiling anything. I've been booted out of the Facebook group, no one was talking to me. I have a right to know what's going on with my own family. I was hoping everyone's given up on this nonsense and cut their losses, but I guess I'm wrong about that."
"Just leave it, will you?" She pours herself a glass of wine. "Let's just all get along for the holidays."
"I'm all for that but I still don't get it. Everyone was so mad at me at the stupid Douglas day thing. Why are they suddenly over it?"
"I put in your share of the money OK?" She slams the bottle down. We stare at each other while the words register in my brain.
"What?" I was so shocked, I could barely form the word.
"You were holding up the whole deal, so I put in your 10,000 dollars. Don't worry, you can pay me back out of your share."
I could feel the blood drain out of my face. I sat so I wouldn't fall down.
"Please tell me you did not give that man $30,000 of your own money? And ten of it for me. Tell me you're joking." It was bad enough she put in her own money and mom's share. Now this? I knew she and Grant were doing well, but not this well.
She faced me like a gunslinger, hands on her hips. "You were the only one standing in the way between us and this money. Everyone else found a way to contribute. You've always been so stubborn, I knew you'd never change your mind. I told everyone you came up with it in the end."
"That's why they were so nice to me?" I was so mad, I was shaking.
"That's right. You're welcome, by the way. A little gratitude would be nice!"
"Are you joking?" My voice is rising with my temper. "Grateful for what? For you getting in deeper with a scammer on my behalf? Lying to my family about me? You had no right to do that!"
"I've got bill payments coming in I can't afford and you were holding everything up. I was scared Rob was going to change his mind and pull the plug on the whole thing, you were acting so ungrateful! I wasn't going to let that happen."
We face each other, flushed and breathless and on the verge of tears. I try again for the hundredth time.
"Why would he take money if he has a ton of money to give away? Don't you get it? He's scamming you. This windfall is never going to happen!"
"It has to!" She was so loud, she startles us both. She looks away and when she turns back, she's full on crying now.
"Grant and I have been fighting about this for months; he doesn't believe it either. My marriage is on the line, my finances are tied up with this thing, I took out a second mortgage on the house, we took that trip to Spain which cost Grant two weeks out of his business — when a dentist doesn't work, he doesn't get paid. I splashed out on gifts for the kids this year and we just bought an $80,000 car. This HAS to happen."
Oh, Julie. I feel so badly for her and furious that I can't do anything to help.
I take a deep breath and lower my my voice. "Just because you don't want to see something, doesn't mean it's not there. You'll never get a penny from him and you've just lost 30,000 dollars. Send back the car and focus on debt restructuring. Help me get this guy. He has to pay for what he's done to this family — the whole town. It's the only way to move forward."
She thinks about it, and for a moment I have hope. But then it's like a door slams shut behind her eyes. "You're wrong."
I never fight with my sister. It's such a bizarre and sad feeling. So much for family unity around the holidays.
"I just really wish you hadn't done that without asking me first. I never would have consented to you giving that man one dollar in my name. I'm very sorry for you. Have a merry Christmas."
Grabbing my coat, I'm out the door before she can see me cry.
YOU ARE READING
The Trust
General Fiction*COMPLETE* A trusted relative has come into money - more than he can ever spend in several lifetimes. And he wants to share it with you. You're part of a trust, due to receive a fortune - and soon. Life-changing money, the kind you only dream about...
