“Why wasn’t my name on the room list, Shawn?” I asked. “I found it in the kitchen trash.” The line went silent. Even Delia stopped shouting. Then I heard my son’s breath catch. “What room list?” he said slowly. “Mom, Delia told me you didn’t want to come. She said you told her you’d rather have a quiet Christmas alone.”

“I never said that,” I replied. “I booked six nights for all of us. Including me.” Another long silence. Then Shawn’s voice changed. “She also told me you’d agreed to sell the house to her parents in the spring,” he said. “She said you wanted something smaller. She has them looking at contractors.” My teacup stopped halfway to my mouth. “Shawn,” I said quietly, “put Delia on the phone.”