Chapter 2: The Agreement That Never Existed
"Let's not turn Christmas into a legal dispute," my mother said.
She said it as if I were the one who had brought a lawsuit to dinner.
I was standing beside the kitchen island, still wearing my winter coat. Olivia had positioned herself between me and the fireplace, as though standing there gave her some kind of authority.
Two guests had quietly moved toward the front door.
Aunt Carol remained frozen beside the dining table.
"Mom," I said, "what agreement is Olivia talking about?""
My mother twisted her wineglass.
"Your sister has been explaining everything.""
"That's not an answer.""
Olivia gave a small laugh.
"Honestly, Becca, you always do this. You make everything sound so hostile.""
"Then explain it.""
She glanced at the guests.
"Jason and I have been helping Mom with the family finances. We knew you were struggling with the property.""
I almost laughed.
"Struggling?""
"You told Mom the maintenance was expensive.""
"It is expensive. I own a house in the mountains.""
"Exactly.""
Jason stepped beside her.
"Look, Rebecca. We made an arrangement with Diane. Your mother was concerned about you carrying all that debt. We agreed to take over the property expenses.""
I stared at him.
"Which expenses?""
"Utilities. Maintenance. Insurance.""
"Really?""
He nodded.
"Of course.""
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
"That's interesting. Because I paid the electricity bill last week. The insurance premium cleared on Monday. And the snow-removal company charged my card yesterday.""
Jason's jaw shifted.
Olivia crossed her arms.
"You're being deliberately difficult.""
"No. I'm being specific.""
I turned to the guests.
"I'm sorry everyone. Apparently there's been a misunderstanding about property ownership.""
Aunt Carol stepped forward.
"Rebecca, sweetheart, Olivia said you were giving them the place.""
I looked at her.
"Giving them the place?""
"She said you couldn't afford to keep it and wanted Jason and her to take over.""
My chest tightened.
"Did she?""
Carol nodded.
"She said you'd agreed months ago.""
I turned toward Olivia.
"When?""
"Last summer.""
"Which day?""
She rolled her eyes.
"I don't remember the exact date.""
"Of course you don't.""
"Becca!""
"Because it didn't happen.""
My mother put her glass down so hard that red wine splashed over the counter.
"Enough!""
Everyone went silent.
Diane looked at me with the exhausted expression she always wore whenever Olivia and I disagreed.
"Your sister has two children. They deserve somewhere to make memories. You live in Denver. You're barely here.""
I stared at her.
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Not because it was true.
Because it was the exact reason I'd worked so hard to buy the property.
I wanted somewhere to come when life became too loud.
I wanted somewhere my nieces could visit.
I had even planned to build a little sledding hill behind the house.
But I had never promised Olivia anything.
"Mom," I said, "you know how much I sacrificed for this place.""
She looked away.
"Your sister needs it more.""
I swallowed.
There it was.
The old family mathematics.
Olivia needed something, so Rebecca should provide it.
When we were children, Olivia got the bigger bedroom because she was older.
When she wanted a car, my father helped her buy one because she had a longer commute.
When she quit college after two semesters, my parents called it finding herself.
When I worked two jobs through university, they called it being independent.
Olivia had always been the emergency.
I had always been the solution.
"Did you give her my key?"" I asked.
My mother stiffened.
"I thought it would be fine.""
"You thought it would be fine to give my sister access to a house I never invited her into?""
"She's family!""
"That doesn't make her the owner.""
Olivia picked up her champagne.
"Can we please stop pretending you're some victim? You've had this place all to yourself for three years.""
"Yes," I said.
"Because I bought it.""
Jason gave an impatient sigh.
"Look, the arrangement was that we'd handle the property going forward. We already told the family. We even made plans for Christmas.""
"Who signed the paperwork?""
He paused.
Olivia answered for him.
"Mom handled it.""
I slowly turned toward Diane.
"What paperwork did you sign, Mom?""
Her face lost its color.
"I didn't sign anything important.""
"Then why did Jason say there was an agreement?""
"He was speaking generally.""
I looked at Jason.
He was now studying the floor.
That was when I noticed something else.
A large cardboard box sat beside the staircase. The kind used by moving companies.
My name was written on it in black marker.
REBECCA — PERSONAL ITEMS.
I walked over and opened it.
Inside were three framed photographs, a stack of books, my father's old measuring tape, and the wool blanket I'd kept folded over the back of my bedroom chair.
My belongings.
Packed.
I lifted the measuring tape.
"Who packed this?""
Olivia sighed.
"We did. We thought you'd want your things.""
"You packed my father's belongings?""
"It was just sitting around.""
"That measuring tape was his.""
She shrugged.
"Then maybe you should have taken it home.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I remembered my father standing on a ladder beside the fireplace, holding that same tape while I argued about the height of the mantle.
He had laughed when I got the measurements wrong.
"Measure twice, Becca. You only get one chance to build something right.""
I placed the tape carefully on the kitchen counter.
Then I looked at Olivia.
"How long have you been planning this?""
She raised her chin.
"Long enough.""
"Who told you that you could move into my house?""
She glanced at Mom.
"Mom said it was the right thing to do.""
I turned to my mother.
"Did you tell Olivia she could take my house?""
Diane's lips trembled.
"I told her we needed to find a solution.""
"What solution?""
"You're single, Rebecca. You don't have children. Olivia has a family.""
I stared at her.
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
"So my work doesn't count because I don't have children?""
"That's not what I said.""
"It's exactly what you said.""
Olivia walked toward the fireplace.
"Honestly, Becca, you're making this sound like some terrible betrayal. We're trying to keep the property in the family.""
I looked at the family photographs on my mantle.
"Then why did you remove mine?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she picked up a small envelope from the kitchen counter.
It was addressed to her.
The return address was a local real estate office.
I recognized the logo.
Mountain West Property Group.
I reached for it.
Olivia snatched it away.
"That's private.""
"Why is my property paperwork being sent to you?""
"Because we're handling things.""
"Handling what?""
Jason moved between us.
"Okay. That's enough.""
I looked at him.
"Move.""
He didn't.
Then my cousin Michael spoke from beside the dining table.
"Jason, maybe you should just let her see the deed.""
The room went completely still.
Jason turned toward him.
"What did you just say?""
Michael shifted awkwardly.
"I thought Rebecca had already seen it.""
I looked at Michael.
"What deed?""
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Olivia said the title had been transferred.""
My heart started beating harder.
"Transferred to whom?""
He looked at Olivia.
She didn't move.
"To her," he said.
For several seconds, I heard nothing except the wind hitting the windows.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
I pulled the leather folder closer.
"Okay," I said.
"Now we're getting somewhere.""
I removed the official county-recorded deed and placed it on the island.
My name was printed clearly beneath the property description.
Rebecca Hart.
Sole owner.
No co-owner.
No transfer.
No family agreement.
Olivia stared at the document.
Jason's face changed.
My mother closed her eyes.
And just as I was about to explain exactly what that paper meant, my phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.
*Rebecca, this is Mark Ellis from Mountain West Property Group. I need to speak with you immediately about a transfer request submitted using your personal information. Please don't sign anything until we talk.*
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Olivia.
May you like
"What's a transfer request?""
For the first time that morning, my sister had nothing to say.
