Chapter 13 - The Person Who Fed the Fire.
Sarah did not call Aunt Rebecca that night.
She read Lauren's letter first.
It was three pages long, written by hand, with several words crossed out instead of rewritten neatly.
Lauren admitted she had arrived at Christmas already angry with Sarah.
She admitted she had treated Emma's fussing as an opportunity to prove that Sarah was overly protective.
She admitted she had ignored Sarah's first request to hand Emma back.
She admitted the grip on Emma's wrist was too hard and that her dismissive response afterward had made the situation worse.
Most importantly, she did not include the word "but."
Sarah read the letter twice.
James read it once.
"Better," he said.
"Better is not the same as fixed."
"I know."
Sarah folded the pages carefully.
The next morning, she called Rebecca.
Her aunt answered cheerfully.
"Sweetheart, I was hoping you would call."
Sarah did not waste time.
"Lauren said you spoke to her Christmas morning."
Rebecca's tone changed almost imperceptibly.
"We spoke for a minute."
"About me?"
A pause.
"Families talk."
"What did you say?"
Rebecca sighed.
"Sarah, I really think everyone needs to stop investigating Christmas like it was some major scandal."
Sarah felt her patience narrow.
"What did you say to Lauren?"
Another pause.
Rebecca finally answered.
"She told me your mother wanted you to host next year."
"And?"
"I told her I understood why she was upset."
Sarah closed her eyes.
"Why would that upset her?"
"Because she has always felt like you are the favorite when it counts."
Sarah almost laughed.
"Did you tell her that?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"I may have said your mother tends to trust you more."
"Anything else?"
Silence.
Sarah knew there was more.
"Rebecca."
Her aunt exhaled sharply.
"I told her not to let James turn every baby decision into a family rule."
Sarah's stomach dropped.
"You said that before dinner?"
"I was trying to encourage her not to feel pushed out."
Sarah stared through the kitchen window at the winter yard.
The pattern was suddenly larger than Margaret.
Different relatives had been soothing Lauren by validating every grievance she carried.
Then those same people called for peace when the grievance produced consequences.
"You told her I was the problem before she even arrived," Sarah said.
"That is not what I said."
"It is what she heard."
Rebecca became defensive.
"Lauren is responsible for her own behavior."
"Yes. She is."
Sarah's voice remained calm.
"And you are responsible for yours."
Rebecca went silent.
Sarah continued.
"You told everyone in the group chat that family conflict should be forgiven, but you helped build the conflict and never mentioned that."
"Sarah, this is becoming cruel."
"No. This is becoming specific."
Rebecca did not answer.
Sarah ended the call without shouting.
Ten minutes later, Margaret called.
"Rebecca just called me."
Sarah waited.
"She is furious."
"I know."
"She said you accused her of causing Christmas."
"I told her she encouraged Lauren's resentment."
Margaret surprised Sarah again.
"You are right."
Sarah sat down slowly.
Margaret continued.
"Rebecca called me Christmas morning too. She told me Lauren was feeling excluded and that I should make sure she got time with Emma."
Sarah's eyes closed.
"That is why you asked me to let Lauren hold her."
"Partly."
Margaret sounded ashamed.
"I should have trusted you instead of managing everyone else's feelings."
Sarah looked at Lauren's letter on the counter.
"Mom, Lauren came here last night."
Margaret went silent.
"She apologized?"
"She wrote a real apology."
Margaret exhaled with relief.
Sarah stopped her before the old pattern returned.
"That does not mean everything is normal."
"I know."
"I am serious."
"So am I."
Margaret paused.
"I am not going to call her and tell her how proud I am. I am going to let her do the work without turning it into another family celebration."
Sarah almost smiled.
"Thank you."
Then a text arrived from Rebecca.
"Since you want the truth so badly, maybe ask your mother why she never told you what Lauren said after Emma was born."
May you like
Sarah's brief relief vanished.
The family still had one more buried conversation.
