The Christmas I Left

Snow had been falling since morning, and by evening it had piled up thick. I stood by the kitchen window, watching Eric shove the last suitcase into the back of the shuttle. The roof rack was packed tight, canvas straps pulled so hard they bit into the bags.

"Evelyn." Eric leaned halfway through the doorway, cold air and snow flurries rushing in with him. "It's the same deal as last year."

I still had the dishrag in my hand. I didn't say anything at first. I just looked at him. Then my eyes moved past his shoulder, to the row of people by the door.

His mom, Candace, stood up front, scarf wrapped to her chin. His dad, Harold, had two carry-ons. His sister, Brittany, was holding Mason's hand. Her husband, Derek, was dragging a big suitcase behind him.

Six people, all in matching off-white ski sweaters. Even Mason, their little boy, had a mini one.

Aspen. Third year in a row.

"Flights are insane right now, and honestly, you'd be bored out of your mind," Ethan said. "You hate skiing, remember?"

"Exactly," Candace cut in, head down, adjusting her gloves, not even glancing my way. "Someone has to stay with the house. Remember last winter? The pipes almost froze."

"Aunt Evelyn, I'll bring you a present!" Mason shouted, before Brittany tugged his arm.

"We'll be back before you know it," Brittany said, all smiles. "Some peace and quiet all to yourself. Isn't that nice?"

I set the dishrag down on the counter and straightened up.

"Okay."

Just that one word.

Eric's hand froze on the door handle. He looked at his mother, then back at me. He probably thought I'd do what I did the past two years. First year, red-eyed and silent. Second year, fighting with him until midnight.

"Uh. Okay." He cleared his throat. "Call if you need anything."

"Mm."

"Want me to leave you some cash?"

"No."

"Then we're off."

The door opened and shut. Footsteps faded down the hallway. The elevator dinged.

The house went quiet.

Candace's perfume still hung in the air, sickly sweet. A few half-finished glasses sat on the dining table, condensation sliding down the sides. Outside, the snow was coming down hard. The shuttle's taillights disappeared around the corner.

I didn't move.

About two minutes passed. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I'd saved a week ago.

"Jack, it's Evelyn."

"Hey! Evelyn!" Wind howled on his end. "You thought it over?"

"I have. List it. Today."

"No problem! I've got two buyers on hand, both cash—"

"Jack." I cut him off. "List it ten percent under market. Cash only. The faster the better."

A beat of silence.

"Ten percent under? You serious?"

"Dead serious. It goes up today."

I hung up, tossed the phone on the couch, and walked into the bedroom. I opened the closet door.

The red suitcase was in the back. Faded. Scuffed at the corners. Three years ago I'd dragged it through that door. Today it was leaving with me.

I folded one piece at a time. Not much to take. Most of the closet was Eric's shirts and suits. My clothes barely took up one narrow shelf.

When the folding was done, I crouched down and reached into the gap between the nightstand and the wall. I pulled out the brown leather folder.

The deed. My name only.

When my parents bought this house, they'd insisted it be in my name alone. Eric had sulked about it for a while. Looking back, that was probably the smartest thing my parents ever did.

I slid the folder into my coat's inner pocket, zipped the suitcase, and stood up. I took one slow look around.

I'd picked the curtains. I'd chosen the sofa covers. The wedding photo still hung on the wall. Eric smiling like he meant it. Me smiling like an idiot.

I walked over, lifted the frame off the wall, and let go.

Glass shattered across the floor.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out. I didn't look back.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Jack's message.

"Evelyn, I'm downstairs. Both buyers are here. Cash. We can sign today."