“It’s the result of standing on my own feet, not living off anyone like you.”
Vanessa went crimson.
“You think you’re better than me?”
“No.”
“You’ve always been jealous!”
I almost laughed.
“Jealous of what?”
“Everything! My school. My wedding. My life.”
“Vanessa, I spent most of my childhood trying to understand why your smallest accomplishment deserved a celebration while mine barely earned a nod.”
Mom flinched.
“Claire, that’s not fair.”
Aunt Diane actually laughed.
Everyone turned toward her.
“Oh, come on, Laura,” she said to Mom. “Don’t insult everyone’s intelligence.”
“We loved both girls.”
“Loving them and treating them equally are two different things.”
Dad stiffened.
“We had limited resources.”
Diane pointed toward Vanessa.
“You sent one child to private school, paid for an elite university, vacations, cars, businesses, a wedding, and now you’re planning to buy her an apartment.”
Then she nodded toward me.
“That one took buses to community college while working full-time.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough.”
Vanessa suddenly pointed at me.
“She still hasn’t proved any of this.”
I reached for my phone.
“Fine.”
“Claire,” Mom warned.
But for once, I wasn’t protecting anyone’s feelings.
I opened the closing documents.
I handed the phone to Grandma first.
She put on her reading glasses and scrolled.
Her expression changed.
“Executed purchase agreement,” she murmured.
Then she looked at me.
“This is real.”
Diane read next.
Then Dad.
He studied the screen for so long that the waiter approached and retreated without speaking.
Mom took the phone with both hands.
Finally it reached Vanessa.
Her fingers moved across the screen.
Address.
Unit.
Square footage.
Deposit.
Closing date.
The color drained from her face.
Then she dropped my phone onto the table.
“I need air.”
Her chair scraped backward.
She rushed toward the exit.
Mom followed immediately.
Of course she did.
Dad remained seated.
He stared at his plate.
Grandma reached across the table and covered my hand.
“I’m proud of you.”
Four ordinary words.
They hit me harder than Vanessa’s screaming.
I had spent my life pretending I didn’t need those words from anyone.
Apparently, I did.
Mom returned alone several minutes later.
“Vanessa says she feels betrayed.”
I stared at her.
“Betrayed?”
“You knew how hard her divorce has been.”
“And buying a home with my own money is an attack on her?”
“You didn’t have to announce it tonight.”
“I didn’t. Grandma asked what I did with my investment profit.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“You could have been more sensitive.”
There it was again.
My success was acceptable only if it stayed small enough not to hurt Vanessa.
I pushed my chair back.
Grandma squeezed my wrist.
“Stay for dessert.”
So I did.
Not for Mom.
Not for Dad.
Not for Vanessa.
For Grandma.
When the tiramisu arrived, Dad finally looked at me.
“How exactly did you afford this?”
“Ten years of work.”
He frowned.
“I mean financially.”
“So do I.”
And for the first time, I decided they were going to hear the entire answer.
### Part 6
I told them about my promotions.
My bonuses.