I Sold Their Home For My Birthday

It was New Years Evemy thirtieth birthday, actuallyand I was struck three times by my own brother, Brad Davis.

He stood over me, chest puffed out, spitting the words like venom. This is my house, Jen. You dont get to come in here and run your mouth like some outsider.

You toxic waste of space. Get out, or Ill hit you again!

He seemed to forget that this apartment was the one Id bought for our mothers retirement.

He forgot his wife, Tiffany, was still wearing the gold bracelet I'd bought for Mom just last month.

And he forgot his kids, Tyler and Jake, were still clutching the generous cash gifts Id just handed them.

I felt the burning sting on my face and looked around.

Tiffanys smile was a sneer, a cold, mocking noise escaping her lips.

The two boys stared at me, eyes wide with antagonism.

Carol, my mother, who had called me here tonight for my birthday, stood silently in the corner, her eyes red and averted, just as they always were.

And I realized, with a sudden, bone-deep weariness, that I was done.

New Years Eve. My birthday.

Mom had called me first thing that morning.

Jen, honey, its your birthday. Why dont you stop by the nice bakery on Fifth and pick up a cake? Well have a lovely holiday dinner and celebrate you.

Tiffanys brassy voice immediately chimed in on speaker. Make sure you get one of those fancy gourmet cakes, the kids love the organic whipped cream! And make it a big one!

Mom quickly agreed. Yes, yes, Jen, you heard Tiffany. A big, expensive one. And hurry up, dont keep your brother waiting.

Then she hung up.

I stared at the call recordless than a minuteand took a moment to just breathe before grabbing my coat and heading out.

When I arrived with the cake, Brad answered the door.

He glanced at the box in my hands and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Thats it? Just a cake? Coming over to someone elses house for a holiday dinner, youd think youd bring something decent.

I didnt bother arguing. It was New Year's Eve; Id had to pull strings and pay a premium just to get this one.

Tiffany backed him up. Seriously. If not for us, at least think of your mother and your nephews. So cheap.

I noticed the thick gold bangle on her wrist. Id bought it for Moms last birthday. Now it was Tiffanys. A few years ago, I would have been furious, demanding an explanation. Now, there was just an unnerving calm. This was hardly the first time.

Mom poked her head out from the kitchen, trying to smooth things over. Its fine, its fine. Jen can make it up next time.

Tiffany shot her an impatient look. Keep an eye on that chicken stock, will you? You ruined it last time. Pay attention.

My mother flinched, mumbled a couple of yes, dears, and disappeared.

I watched, a cold, sharp blade of mockery twisting in my gut.

At the dinner table, the cake meant for my birthday celebration was devoured by Tyler and Jake before a single candle could be lit.

Mom placed a spoonful of broccoli on my plate. Tyler and Jake start private school next year, Jen. We thought, as their favorite aunt, maybe youd like to pitch in?

I pushed the broccoli aside. I gave them cash earlier. That was their holiday gift.

Tiffany shrieked. That was a New Years bonus! You cant use that as school tuition! Dont try to redefine the terms!

I finally looked up, meeting their eyes. So, now you want me to pay for their entire private school education, too?

The table fell silent. All three of them stopped chewing.

I paused, letting the quiet settle before delivering the final line. I dont have it. If you need money, maybe Brad could, you know, find a job next year.

CRASH.

Brad kicked his chair back, sending it slamming into the wall, and his palm connected with my cheek. The force stunned me.

Tiffany continued eating, placidly picking up a piece of turkey for Tyler as if nothing had happened.

My mother started to rise, then froze.

Brads voice was grating, full of spite. Who the hell do you think you are, coming into my house and telling me what to do?

SMACK.

Another stinging blow. He paused, glaring at me, the fury in his eyes raw.

Unsatisfied, he raised his hand one last time and delivered the third slap.

Im the one who takes care of Mom! Asking you for money is a favor! You think youre some kind of saint? Ha! Youre toxic waste. Consider those three slaps your lesson.

Tiffany chimed in with her usual condescending tone. Hes right, Jen. Were doing this for your own good. Youre not married, you dont have a family. When youre old, youll rely on Tyler and Jake for care. You need to contribute now so theyll feel like honoring you later.

Their voices were a duet of smug, superior condemnation.

The brutal pain spread across my face. I could see my reflection in the polished wood of the dining table: red, swollen, ugly. Like a tomato left in the sun too long.

I lifted my eyes and looked at my mother.

She avoided my gaze. After a long moment, she looked back, a flicker of resentment in her expression. Jen, this is your brothers home. Why do you always have to be so difficult? You see what youve done, ruining the holiday for everyone. Are you happy now?

I managed a faint, bitter smile, stood, and walked toward the front door.

Behind me, Brad was still yelling, his voice laced with indignation. Let her run! That useless bitch! If she ever shows her face in my house again, Ill hit her harder!

I closed the door, and the ringing curses were instantly cut off.

His house?

I had bought this apartment for Moms retirement, and when they moved in, I hadnt raised a complaint. Theyd successfully squatted.

But what they didn't know was that the name on the deed, the original title to this day, was mine.

The cold air hit me, harsh and biting. I wrapped my coat tighter and began the long walk back to my own apartment.

It wasn't far.

Years ago, right after Brad got married, Mom had come to me, crying, saying Tiffany couldn't stand her and didn't want her living with them in their cramped rental.

I knew Brad was essentially unemployed, living off Mom's social security. I felt bad for her.

Why dont you just move in with me, Mom? Id offered. Ill give you three thousand a month, and all you have to do is cook for me occasionally. I had an extra bedroom already waiting.

But Brad had refused, yelling that I was only after Moms pension, forbidding her to live with me. I hadn't pushed it then, but now, after all this, I thought she might agree.

Instead, she hemmed and hawed before finally shaking her head.

Youre a young woman, Jen. It wouldnt be convenient for me to live with you. Why dont you buy me my own place? A nice two-bedroom. Then Ill be set for life, and my heart will be at peace.

I was stunned. Before I could respond, she started crying again.

Jen, youve always been the sensible one. Just help your mother one last time.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, checked my savings, and finally agreed.

I found a two-bedroom condo quickly. Mom was overjoyed when she moved in, her face beaming as she called me her perfect daughter.

But soon after, Tiffany got pregnant.

That very day, Brad moved his entire family into the fully paid-off condo Id bought. Mom was ecstatic, welcoming them in as if she hadnt complained about Tiffany a few months prior.

They had lived there for five years.

I exhaled a cloud of frost, not feeling the bone-deep cold recede until I was safe inside my own home.

I sat on my balcony without turning on the lights. In the darkness, I took out my phone and disabled the large-limit credit card linked to my account that I had given Mom.

She had cried that Brad had taken over her bank accounts, leaving her penniless. I had set up the card so she could make purchases. A quick glance at the history revealed the same pattern: small, inexpensive purchases were necessities for her. The expensive ones were frivolousgifts, electronics, or clothes, all clearly for Brad and his family.

I closed my eyes. Then, I pulled the dusty condo deed from my fireproof drawer and scrolled through my contacts for the realtor who had handled the purchase five years ago.

I need you to sell this unit. Immediately. The price doesnt matter. Get it done as fast as possible.

It was New Year's Eve, so the reply was slow, but it came.

Whoa, Jen! Didnt I sell you that place? Selling on the holiday? Youve got guts. The realtorMitchjoked, but he was serious about the work. Dont worry, Ill handle it. Its a great property, and if youre willing to take a slight discount, itll be a feeding frenzy.

I typed a brief "Thanks." Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a flash of light burst across the night sky.

A cascade of brilliant, glittering fireworks lit up my unlit living room. I glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. A new year.

I watched the show for a moment, a lightness I hadnt felt in years filling my chest.

The fireworks continued their relentless celebration, illuminating the path ahead. I smiled, went to my bedroom, and crawled into my warm, heavy duvet.

In the boundless landscape of my dreams, I saw my mother again, shielding a young Brad and me behind her from my fathers swinging fist. I saw her wake up in the middle of the night to gently tuck my blanket back around me.

But then, the dream shifted. I saw Brad steal my favorite candy and toys, hiding behind Mom as he smirked at me. I saw Mom burst into tears, staging a scene, all to guilt me into giving more of my lifeblood to nourish her preferred child.

She would look at me, and her words were always a mixture of blame and instruction.

Jen, hes your brother. You cant fight with him over things.

Jen, hes your brother. This is what youre supposed to do.

I woke with a jolt. The room was bright; the sun reflecting off a thick layer of snow was blinding.

My phone, resting on the nightstand, was vibrating maniacally. I looked at the screen and answered.

Moms panicked voice immediately hit my ear. Jen! That card you gave me, it was declined! Is it out of money? You need to put more on it right now. I need to buy things for your brother.

I spoke calmly. Its not out of money, Mom. I just cut you off.

That sliver of a memory, that one small piece of good from my childhood, had kept me tethered for years, justifying the expense. But those three slaps? They were the shock paddles that finally woke me up.