Ellis spoke again.
“Lily, do you have the yellow envelope?”
I looked down at it.
“Yes.”
“There should be a sealed note addressed to Adam.
Ruth authorized you to open it if this situation arose.”
Adam immediately objected.
“What situation? Me standing on a porch?”
“A dispute over access to Lily’s home after you had been informed that the property belonged solely to her.”
“Nobody informed me I couldn’t use my key.”
Mr.
Ellis paused.
“Adam, why would you assume a key to someone else’s home remained valid forever?”
Again, there was no answer.
I slid my finger beneath the envelope flap.
The paper made a soft tearing sound.
Adam heard it through the call.
“Lily, don’t.”
Those were the first two words he had spoken all morning that sounded like a request.
I unfolded the page.
Grandma’s handwriting covered both sides.
I began reading.
“Adam, if Lily is reading this to you, then I was right to worry that giving her the house would not be enough.”
On the porch, Adam stopped moving.
I continued.
“You are my grandson and I love you.
Your children are precious to me.
That does not give you ownership of your sister’s time, labor, or home.”
Brooke looked away.
“You have always been confident that Lily will adjust.
When you need a favor, you often present the decision first and the request afterward, if you make a request at all.
The family has encouraged this because Lily usually gives in.
Her kindness has made all of you careless.”
My throat tightened.
I had expected Grandma to defend the house.
I had not expected her to defend me so precisely.
Adam interrupted.
“She wrote that?”
“Yes.”
“Read the whole thing.”
So I did.
Grandma described the afternoon Adam had brought the children over while I was preparing for a work presentation and announced that he would be back after dinner.
She remembered Mom telling me, “You’re home anyway,”
even though I had explained that I was working.
She remembered the weekend I canceled my coast trip because Brooke’s mother could no longer babysit.
Grandma had apparently asked Adam afterward whether he knew I had lost money on the reservation.
He had shrugged and said I could go another time.
I had never known she heard that.
The letter continued.
“The danger is not that Adam is cruel.
The danger is that everyone has made Lily’s sacrifice so ordinary that none of you recognize it as a sacrifice anymore.”
That line hurt more than the others.
Because it was true.
No villain had stormed into my life and stolen my time.
People I loved had simply learned that taking it was easy.
Grandma’s final paragraph was shorter.
