“Double cheese, pepperoni, and tomato slices?”
“I’ll make the call.” Caroline scrambled to her feet and headed for the kitchen, forcing all troubling thoughts from her head. “You keep decorating the tree.”
—
“Wow,” Caroline said, taking a few steps back to admire the tree that was now dripping with ornaments, and almost stepping into the large pizza box containing two leftover slices. “It’s gorgeous. You did an amazing job.”
“The pinecones came in really handy for filling in the empty spaces.”
“And I love these little glass slippers and ballerinas. I’d forgotten we had those.”
“We just need an angel for the top.”
Caroline began riffling through the remaining bags with one hand while balancing a half-eaten piece of pizza in the other. “One angel coming up.” She located a glittery gold-and-silver cardboard angel that Michelle had made in grade school and held it up to the tree. “I think we’re going to need a stepladder.”
“Do you have one?”
“In the kitchen.”
“I’ll get it.” Lili was halfway down the hall when Caroline heard a key turn in the lock and the front door open. She checked her watch. It was eight-thirty, which meant that Michelle was home from the hospice.
“What’s going on?” Michelle asked from the entrance to the living room, her eyes sweeping across the room, registering the Christmas tree and the various bags and boxes littering the floor.
“I thought it would be nice if we had a tree this year,” Caroline said. “You want some pizza? There are a few slices left.”
Michelle said nothing, the roll of her eyes answer enough. She approached the tree, her fingers reaching for one of the silver balls. “A little premature to be celebrating, don’t you think?”
“I just thought it would be nice,” Caroline said again.
Michelle nodded. “And it never crossed your mind that I might like to participate?”
Caroline fell silent. One step forward. Two steps back.
“You can put up the angel,” Lili said brightly, returning to the living room with the small stepladder.
“Oh, thank you,” Michelle said. “That’s so considerate of you.”
“Michelle…”
“There’s some pizza left,” Lili said. “I can heat it up for you.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest, most thoughtful little sister in the whole universe?”
“Please don’t take your anger at me out on Lili,” Caroline implored. “It was my idea to put up the tree. My idea to decorate it. Lili said we should wait till you got home. I’m the one who said you wouldn’t be interested.”
“Because you think I enjoy being left out?”
“Because you’ve never shown any interest before.”
“Because you always made it seem like it was such a chore,” Michelle shot back, her anger escalating with each pronouncement. “Because it was so obvious your heart wasn’t in it, that there was no reason to decorate a stupid tree and pretend to be happy, when how could we be happy if Samantha wasn’t here to celebrate with us? God knows I wasn’t reason enough. God knows I never made you happy.” She tore the angel from Lili’s hand and ripped it apart, tossing what was left to the floor. “And by the way, Lili, or Samantha, or whatever the hell your real name is, just so you know, there are no such things as angels. Because there is no such thing as heaven.” She spun toward the hallway. “It’s all one big crock. A scam—just like you.”
“Micki, wait.”
“What exactly am I waiting for?” Michelle said, turning back. “For you to acknowledge that I matter as much as my sainted sister, that my actual presence is as important to you as her memory?”
“That is so unfair.”
“Is it? What’s it going to take, Mother? Do I have to disappear for you to love me?”
Caroline sank to the floor, crushing what was left of the cardboard angel beneath her weight, as Michelle ran from the room.
“It’s me…Lili. Can I come in?”
“Can I stop you?”
Caroline overheard the exchange from the doorway of her bedroom. She’d been on her way to apologize to Michelle yet again—how many of their conversations over the years had consisted of futile attempts to explain and atone?—when she heard the sound of footsteps in the hall and peeked out of her room to see Lili tapping gently on Michelle’s bedroom door.
She watched Lili disappear inside Michelle’s room before tiptoeing down the hallway, then stood with her back pressed tightly against the wall, knowing she shouldn’t be eavesdropping but unable to tear herself away.
“Are you okay?” she heard Lili ask.
“Sure,” Michelle responded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seemed really upset.”
“I overreacted. Not that unusual. Sorry if it worried you.”
“No, please. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”
“What do you have to be sorry about?”
“We should have waited till you got home to decorate the tree.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”