Chapter 4: What My Brother Said That I Wasn't Ready to Hear
I let it ring.
Evan glanced at the screen but didn't say anything.
Lily had fallen asleep before we reached the first traffic light, her head tipped sideways, one hand still loosely curled around the reindeer's antler.
The phone went quiet.
Then it lit up again.
Mark.
I picked it up.
"Hey," he said.
He sounded tired.
"Are you driving?"
"Evan is."
"Okay." A pause.
"You doing all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Right." Another pause.
The kind that meant he had something to say and was deciding how to say it.
"So.
That was — a lot."
"She called my daughter broken in front of the whole family, Mark."
"I know.
I know she did.
I'm not defending her." He exhaled slowly.
"She's been weird about Lily since the beginning.
I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."
"Now you know."
"Yeah." He was quiet for a moment.
"Listen.
After you left, she — she started crying.
Like, really crying.
Dad had to take her into the other room."
I watched the bare trees along the road.
"Okay," I said.
"She kept saying she didn't mean it.
That she was scared.
That watching Lily in the NICU last spring — she said it scared her more than she knew how to say, and it came out wrong."
Something moved in my chest.
I pressed it back down.
"It has come out wrong," I said, "every single time for eight months."
"I know."
"She didn't hold Lily once during that whole visit, Mark.
She commented on her size twice before dinner.
She told me to make sure she had a bow for pictures.
That's not fear.
That's performance."
"You're right," he said.
"I'm not — I'm not asking you to go back.
I just thought you should know." He paused.
"Jenna's furious, by the way.
She said to tell you she's sorry she didn't say something sooner."
That one landed differently.
I hadn't expected it.
"Tell her she doesn't have to be sorry," I said.
"She'll want to call you."
"That's fine."
Evan turned onto our road.
The neighborhood was quiet, the houses lit warm from the inside, Christmas lights glowing soft and still.
"Mom asked me if you were serious," Mark said.
"About it being Lily's last Christmas there."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her I thought you were."
"I am."
He was quiet for longer this time.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"And I mean this genuinely — not as defense, just as a question."
"Go ahead."
"Is there anything she could do?
Like — is there a version of this where things are different?
Or is this the end?"
I looked back at Lily in the mirror.
Still asleep.
Still holding the reindeer.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But she doesn't get to decide the timeline.
I do."
"That's fair," he said.
"That's completely fair." Another beat.
"I love you.
I'm sorry Christmas was like this."
"It's not your fault."
"I know.
I'm still sorry."
We hung up as Evan pulled into the driveway.
He turned off the engine and we sat for a moment in the quiet, the heater ticking as it cooled.
"What did he say?" Evan asked.
"That she cried after we left."
"Mmm."
"And that Jenna's angry on my behalf."
"Jenna's good people," Evan said.
"She is."
He turned to look at me.
"And the rest?"
"He asked if there was any version where things could be different."
"What did you say?"
"I said I didn't know."
Evan nodded slowly.
He didn't push.
He reached over and squeezed my hand once, then got out to get Lily.
I sat in the cold car for an extra moment.
My phone buzzed again.
Not Mark this time.
Mom.
May you like
I stared at her name on the screen.
Then I put the phone in my pocket, got out, and went inside.
