They Gave Me a Burial Shroud for My Birthday

3: 3

The old man was thinking exactly what I was thinking.

He kept right on tearing into our son. "You'd have starved us both to death by now!"

"Dad, don't talk like that."

"You're not worth a slab of barbecue. Would a slab of barbecue sit around hoping its mother would die?"

"If you can't wait, we can be laid in the coffin right now and hauled off to the crematorium!"

"Dad..."

"Right, me too."

"Might as well plant us both up on the hill while you're at it!"

"Cash in our pensions all in one go."

I had never seen Walter this angry before. The words came out of him like a machine gun.

Our son opened his mouth and couldn't decide which line to argue with first.

Walter, still shaking with it, muttered under his breath, "Should've known he was an ungrateful stray you can never feed full. Never should've taken him in."

He said it low, but Curtis caught every word.

"Dad, Gabriella's the one you raised for nothing. On Mom's sixtieth birthday she brushed it off, said work was too busy. I didn't even stay late at the office that day, and you dump all your anger on me!"

"Do you have to play favorites this openly?"

Walter was about to fire back again, and I was afraid he'd work himself into a heart attack, so I grabbed his hand fast.

So our son thought we played favorites?

Fine. Then we'd tell him exactly why we favored her, and put an end to that pitiful little fantasy of his.

Mind made up, but it was Celeste who jumped in first.

"Mom, Dad, Curtis and I are more than willing to take care of you. Since we're all here today, I won't dance around it. Give us a straight answer. Does the estate go to us, or to Gabriella?"

The whole family's eyes turned to me.

I didn't answer right away.

"Walter, call Gabriella and see how far out she is."

The hope on our son's face and the smile on Celeste's both froze.

Curtis especially. He blurted out, baffled, "Mom, you're really going to side with an adopted daughter? Over your own son?"

I ignored him and steered Walter toward the door of the private room.

Curtis was no fool. He caught on to what I meant, and it lit him up instantly.

He rushed over and blocked his father in the doorway.

"Dad, even you're taking the adopted daughter's side?"

"Mom's lost her head, and now you're joining in the nonsense!"

I cleared my throat and said, cold, "You gave me such a generous gift. It's only right I give you one back."

With that I pushed Curtis aside and sent the old man off to call our daughter.

Watching Walter's back as he walked away, I said to my son, "One of you two really isn't ours by blood. You and Gabriella."

"Today I'm telling you both where you came from. She has to be here for it."

Once he heard that, Curtis finally let out a breath of relief.