PART 17 – My Sister Finally Wanted to Talk, but She Still Believed I Was the One Who Needed to Make Things Right

Summer passed slowly.

Eli enjoyed being out of school.

He spent afternoons playing with neighborhood children and evenings building things on the living room floor.

The red game piece remained on the kitchen table for several days.

I eventually put it in the little box where we kept his games.

I didn't throw it away.

It reminded me of Lucy.

Mom continued calling occasionally.

Sometimes she asked about my work.

Sometimes she wanted to know whether Eli was enjoying his summer.

I answered.

We didn't discuss Danielle every time.

That was an improvement.

Then, one Thursday evening, Mom called with something different.

She said Danielle wanted to speak to me.

I stopped folding laundry.

"About what?"

"She wants to clear the air."

I waited.

Mom said Danielle thought too much time had passed.

I asked whether she had apologized.

Mom sighed.

"Jenna, she wants to talk."

"That's not what I asked."

There was a pause.

Then Mom admitted Danielle hadn't apologized.

I put a folded shirt on the sofa.

"Then what does she want to discuss?"

Mom said Danielle felt I had turned the family against her.

I closed my eyes.

That was not what had happened.

I hadn't called relatives.

I hadn't sent messages explaining my side.

I hadn't asked anyone to stop speaking to her.

I had simply stopped bringing Eli into situations where he was being insulted.

Somehow, that had become an attack on Danielle.

I told Mom I would consider a conversation if Danielle was willing to discuss what she had said about Eli.

Mom said she would tell her.

The following afternoon, Danielle sent me a message.

It was short.

She said she thought we should talk like adults.

I read it twice.

There was no mention of Thanksgiving.

No mention of Eli.

No acknowledgment of the years before it.

I didn't answer immediately.

Later, I wrote that I was willing to have a conversation, but I wasn't interested in pretending nothing had happened.

She replied that I always had to make things difficult.

I put the phone down.

I didn't answer again.

That evening, Eli asked whether Aunt Danielle had contacted me.

I looked at him.

"Who told you?"

"Grandma said she might talk to you."

I nodded.

"She sent me a message."

He looked thoughtful.

"Is she still mad?"

I sat beside him.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

He looked down at his hands.

"Did I make her mad?"

My stomach tightened.

"No."

I answered firmly.

"You didn't do anything to make her behave that way."

He nodded.

Then he returned to his game.

I watched him for a moment.

I wished Danielle understood how much damage could come from a few careless words repeated over several years.

But she didn't seem interested in understanding.

She wanted the discomfort to end.

And she wanted it to end without admitting why it had started.

Click here to continue reading: PART 18: I Agreed to One Conversation With My Sister, but I Refused to Let Her Rewrite What Had Happened at Thanksgiving