Chapter 9 - The New Normal
By February, the shifting dynamics within the Ellis family had begun to ripple outward, creating unexpected waves among the relatives who had long taken my compliance for granted.
Word had apparently traveled through the family grapevine about how Cedar Pines Lodge had turned into a disaster and how I had politely declined to rescue them. According to a stray text message from Aunt Jenna—who had privately reached out to apologize, noting that she was "impressed by my spine"—Mark and my parents had spent most of January arguing over who was responsible for the ruined holiday.
Mark had tried to pin the blame on my parents for alienating me, while my father blamed Mark for being arrogant in front of his boss. Jenna, meanwhile, had told them both to grow up.
One Saturday afternoon, while Noah and Sophie were building an elaborate Lego city on the living room floor, someone knocked on our apartment door.
I peeked through the peephole and was surprised to see my brother Mark standing in the hallway. He wasn't wearing his usual tailored business suit or expensive wool overcoat; he wore a simple zip-up hoodie and jeans, looking uncharacteristically tired.
I opened the door a few inches, resting my hand against the frame. "Mark. What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Becca," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He looked down at the welcome mat, then back up at me. "Can I come in for a minute? I promise I’m not here to start anything."
I studied his face for a second, sensing that the usual arrogance had been stripped away by weeks of family tension. I stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come on in. Keep it brief, though. The kids are in the middle of a city-planning meeting."
Mark walked into the living room, his eyes scanning our cozy, warm apartment. He looked down at Noah and Sophie, who paused their Lego construction to eye their uncle with cautious curiosity.
"Hey, kids," Mark said softly, offering a small, awkward wave.
"Hi, Uncle Mark," Noah replied cautiously, before going back to his building blocks.
Mark followed me into the kitchen, where I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. "Well? What brings you all the way out here on a Saturday?"
Mark let out a long, heavy sigh and leaned against the opposite counter. "Mom and Dad are a mess, Becca. House feels like a funeral home on Sundays. Dad keeps wandering into the kitchen looking for you to fix things, and Mom won't stop talking about how she regrets what she said on Christmas morning."
"I’m sorry to hear that, Mark," I said evenly. "But their emotional state isn't my responsibility anymore."
"I know," Mark admitted, dropping his gaze. "That's... that's actually why I'm here. I wanted to apologize. Not just for Christmas, but for... well, for a lot of things. For letting Mom and Dad treat you like an unpaid assistant for twenty years. For making fun of your freelance work while you were paying for our family dinners and organizing our lives."
I blinked, genuinely stunned. In my entire life, I had never heard my brother offer an unprompted, genuine apology.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mark gave a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. "Turns out, when you don't have someone managing every single detail of your life, adulting is a lot harder than it looks. Jenna tried to plan a family birthday dinner last week and it was an absolute logistical nightmare. We missed reservations, forgot my dad's dietary restrictions, and ended up fighting in the parking lot of a steakhouse." He looked up, meeting my eyes directly. "We took you for granted, Becca. Every single one of us. And I’m sorry."
I looked at my brother, seeing the exhaustion etched around his eyes. The resentment I had carried for years didn't magically evaporate in a single conversation, but a heavy knot in my chest began to loosen.
"Apology accepted, Mark," I said quietly. "I appreciate you saying that. But things are different now. I’m not going back to the way things were."
May you like
"I don't expect you to," Mark said, nodding slowly. "Just... if you ever want to grab coffee, or let the kids see their grandparents on your own terms, let me know. We want you around, Becca. Not because you're useful, but because you're our sister."
He turned and walked toward the door, pausing to wave at Noah and Sophie, who gave him small, cautious waves back. When the door clicked shut behind him, the apartment felt lighter than it had in a decade.
