The Fallout: The Carter Family Christmas Special: Dec 23rd - THE AFTERMATH
No one’s yelling anymore. No explosions. Just the quiet kind of fallout that rearranges entire lives.
THE AFTERMATH December 23, 2024
Wallace woke up to his twin sister asleep on his couch, her face still swollen from crying, the mark on her cheek from where Chloe had slapped her now a dull purple bruise. He'd given Wanda his bed around 2 AM after she finally stopped talking about pressing charges and just curled up under his blanket like they used to when they were kids and the world got scary.
He made coffee. Strong. The kind their mother used to make on Sunday mornings before church.
The knock came at 8:47 AM.
Three sharp raps. Official.
Wallace opened the door to find a guy in a hoodie, sweatpants, and a Phoenix Suns hat holding a manila envelope. Process server. Wallace knew the look.
"Wallace Carter?" the guy asked.
"Yeah."
The server handed him an envelope. "You've been served. Divorce petition from Wynona Carter."
Wallace took it. Stared at it.
But the server was already walking away, down the stairs, gone.
Wallace stood in the doorway holding the envelope. Divorce papers. From Wynona. He'd known they were coming ever since she found out about Julian and threw that vase at his head three weeks ago. But serving him two days after burying his parents? That was cold even for her.
He closed the door. Opened the envelope. Irreconcilable differences. No kids. Simple division of assets. It was clinical. Cold.
Another knock.
Wallace opened the door again. Different guy. This one in a cheap suit, holding another envelope.
"Is there a Wanda Carter here?"
Wallace's stomach dropped. "Yeah. Hold on."
He turned. Wanda was standing behind him in yesterday's clothes, eyes puffy from sleep. "What's going on?"
"Papers for you too."
The second server held out the envelope. "You've been served. Divorce petition from William Carter."
Wanda took it like it might burn her. Stared at it. Didn't open it.
The server left.
The twins stood in the doorway. Both holding envelopes. Both getting divorced on the same morning.
"He actually did it," Wanda said quietly.
"Yeah."
"I defended him yesterday. At the funeral. When Chloe was talking shit about him being soft, I told her to shut up. I stood up for him."
"I know."
"And he was already planning this. Already had his lawyer draw up the papers. Already decided I wasn't worth fighting for."
Wallace looked at his own envelope. "Wynona too. Two days after Mom and Dad died, she decides now's the time."
They stood there. Two twins. Two divorces. Two lives falling apart in matching rhythm.
"We should get ready," Wallace said. "Marcus wants us at the house by 11."
"Yeah."
Neither of them moved.
Bobby, Bella, Wallace, and Wanda all arrived at their parents' house within ten minutes of each other.
Bobby pulled up first. He looked like shit. Hadn't showered. Hadn't shaved. Just threw on jeans and a t-shirt and came.
Bella arrived next with Billy. The kid looked tired. Quiet.
Wallace and Wanda pulled up together. Wanda was wearing sunglasses even though it was overcast and cold. Hiding the bruise.
They stood in the driveway for a moment. Four siblings.
"This is fucked," Wallace said.
Nobody disagreed.
They went inside.
Uncle Marcus was in the living room going through boxes. Aunt Denise was in the kitchen making coffee even though nobody had asked her to. Brandon and Billy were already there, sitting on the stairs, watching everything with those too-old eyes kids get when they've seen too much.
"Morning," Marcus said. He didn't smile. Didn't hug anyone. Just looked at them like a doctor about to deliver bad news. "We need to talk."
They all sat. Bobby on the couch. Bella in the armchair. Wallace and Wanda on the loveseat near the window.
Another knock at the door.
Everyone looked up.
Bobby stood. "I'll get it."
He opened the door to find a woman in her late fifties holding a manila envelope.
"Bobby Carter?"
"Yeah."
"You've been served. Divorce petition from Barbara Carter."
Bobby took it. Closed the door. Walked back into the living room holding the envelope.
Looked at Wallace and Wanda.
They held up their envelopes.
"You too?" Bobby asked.
"This morning," Wallace said.
"Both of you?"
"Same time. Two different servers showed up at my door within five minutes of each other."
Bobby sat down. Opened his envelope. Read the first page. Looked at his siblings. "Barbara wants full custody of Brandon."
"Wynona wants the condo," Wallace said.
"William wants half of everything even though I left with nothing," Wanda added.
They sat there. Three siblings. Three divorce petitions. Three marriages ending on the same day their parents' secrets were about to be revealed.
Bella started laughing.
Everyone looked at her.
"What's funny?" Bobby asked.
"This. All of this. We really fucked things up, huh? Mom and Dad would be so proud."
Wallace snorted. Actually snorted. "What would Mom say?"
Bella did the voice. Their mother's voice. High pitched. Disapproving. "Lord Jesus, what did I raise? Y'all can't keep NOTHING together. Not a marriage. Not a family. NOTHING."
Wanda laughed despite herself. "And Dad would just shake his head and say..."
Bobby did the voice. Deep. Gruff. Resigned. "Well. Y'all made your bed. Now you gotta lie in it."
All four of them laughed. Dark. Bitter. The kind of laughter that comes when you're so destroyed there's nothing left to do but acknowledge the absurdity.
"That's it," Bella said. "That's exactly what he'd say. 'Y'all made your bed.'"
"And Mom would add something about prayer," Wanda said.
Marcus cleared his throat. "When you're done..."
They stopped laughing. Remembered why they were there.
"About the estate," Marcus said. He pulled out a folder. Set it on the coffee table.
"The will," Bella said. "We know. We have to sell the house and split the money."
Marcus shook his head. "There is no will."
Silence.
"What do you mean there's no will?" Bobby asked.
"I mean your mother and father didn't have a will. They had a reverse mortgage."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
"A what?" Wanda asked.
"A reverse mortgage. They took it out five years ago. Used the equity in the house to pay off debts, cover expenses. Brenda's medical bills from that surgery in 2020. Willis's car accident. Things piled up and they needed cash."
Bobby's voice was flat. "How much do we get?"
Marcus looked at him. "Nothing. The house goes to the bank. There's no equity left. Maybe a few thousand in their checking account, but that'll barely cover the funeral costs you haven't paid yet."
Bella stood up. "That's not possible. This house has been in the family for thirty years. It has to be worth something."
"It was. And your parents borrowed against it. Now it belongs to First National Bank."
Wallace laughed again. But this time it wasn't funny. "So we get nothing."
"I'm sorry."
"We buried them two days ago and we get NOTHING?"
"Wallace," Wanda started.
"No, fuck this. Fuck ALL of this. Mom called me seventeen times the day she died. SEVENTEEN. And I didn't answer because I was too busy being ashamed of who I am. And now she's dead and I don't even get to keep the house she grew up in? The bank gets it?"
Nobody spoke.
"Some of us were counting on that money," Bobby said quietly. "I was going to use my share to... I don't know. Start over. Pay Barbara something so she'd let me see Brandon more than every other weekend."
"I was going to use mine for Billy's school," Bella said. "Private school. Get him away from... everything."
"And now we get nothing," Wanda repeated.
Marcus looked at them. All four siblings destroyed by divorce and loss and secrets. "There's something else."
Wallace's head snapped up. "What else could there possibly be?"
"Your mother asked me to give you something. If anything ever happened to her." He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope and two photographs. Handed them to Bobby. "She wanted the oldest to have these first."
Bobby took them. Opened the envelope. Inside were the photos. Old. Faded. Hospital blankets and tiny faces.
Two babies.
"Who are these?" Bobby asked.
Marcus took a breath. "Your brother and sister."
The room tilted.
Bobby stared at the photos. Passed them to Bella. She passed them to Wallace. Wallace passed them to Wanda.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Bobby asked.
"Your parents had another set of twins before they had you. A boy and a girl. Derek and Michelle. They were seventeen, still in high school. Brenda's mother tried to hide the pregnancy. Willis didn't even know until Brenda was six months along. When both families found out, there was a war. Screaming. Threats. Brenda's father wanted Willis arrested. Willis's mother wanted Brenda sent away to a home."
"They gave them up," Wanda said quietly.
"They were forced to. Both families made it impossible for them to keep the babies. So they gave them up for adoption. And the day after the adoption was finalized, Willis and Brenda packed a bag and ran. They got married at city hall. Moved here. Swore they'd never let anyone take their children from them again."
Bobby looked at the photos again. "We have a brother and sister we never knew about."
"Had. Maybe. I don't know if they're alive. Your parents tried to find them about fifteen years ago through the adoption agency. No luck. The records were sealed."
"How old would they be?" Bella asked.
"Thirty-nine. Forty. Born in 1984 or '85."
"So they're older than us," Bobby said. "Older than me and Bella. Older than Wallace and Wanda."
"Yeah. The first set of twins."
Marcus handed Bobby another piece of paper. "The adoptive parents sent this a month after the adoption. It's the only communication they ever had."
Bobby unfolded it. Read aloud:
Dear Brenda and Willis,
We want you to know that Derek and Michelle are healthy and happy. They are beautiful children and we promise to love them as our own. We understand how difficult this must be for you. We hope someday you'll find peace knowing they're in a good home.
The Johnsons
That was it. No address. No phone number. Just a promise from strangers forty years ago.
"Mom kept this all these years," Bobby said.
"She kept a lot of things," Marcus said.
Bella knelt down and opened one of the boxes Marcus had been going through. Inside were more papers. Birth certificates. School records. Letters.
She pulled out a folder. Opened it.
Inside were two birth certificates.
Baby Boy Carter. Born March 15, 1985.
Baby Girl Carter. Born March 15, 1985.
And underneath, adoption papers.
Derek Johnson. Michelle Johnson.
New names. New family. New lives.
"They tried to find them," Bobby said. "Fifteen years ago. That's when I was in college. I remember Mom being weird for a few months. Distracted. Dad too. I thought they were fighting."
"They were searching," Marcus said. "They hired a private investigator. Went through the adoption agency. Nothing. The records were sealed and the Johnsons had moved. No trail."
"But that was fifteen years ago," Wallace said. "Things are different now. DNA testing. Ancestry websites. Open records in some states."
"Maybe."
"So they could be out there. Alive. Not knowing Mom and Dad just died."
"Maybe."
The four siblings sat in their parents' living room surrounded by boxes of secrets and realized they didn't know their parents at all.
Brandon and Billy had been sitting on the stairs the whole time. Listening. Watching. Learning things about their grandparents that the adults were only just discovering.
Billy whispered to Brandon: "Do you think they know about us?"
"Who?"
"Derek and Michelle. Do you think they know Grandma and Grandpa had more kids?"
Brandon shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not."
"That's sad."
"Yeah."
The boys went quiet again. Kept watching. Kept listening.
And nobody noticed them slip out the back door.
END OF PART 12: THE AFTERMATH
