They Gave Me a Burial Shroud for My Birthday

4: 4

While we waited for my daughter to arrive, my son and Celeste could hardly sit still. They'd convinced themselves that once the adoption business was out in the open, my and Walter's estate would drop neatly into their pockets.

"Mom, is Gabriella Lambert really coming?"

"Of course she is."

I looked hard at the son I'd raised for thirty years. "All these years, someone always had to take the short end. That can't go on forever."

"It's time somebody got to enjoy a little comfort!"

Curtis let out a breath, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Ten minutes later, my daughter hurried into the restaurant, out of breath.

She had her arms full of gift boxes. Before I could scold her for spending, she was already laughing and pressing a pair of high-end sneakers into Walter's hands.

Walter grumbled, but the smile had already softened his whole face.

"Silly girl, you didn't have to waste money. Your mother and I don't need for anything."

"They're just walking shoes for you two. They didn't cost much."

Then she held out a thick gold bracelet to me.

When I didn't take it, she tucked the bracelet into my hand herself, then carried a boxed set of nice cosmetics over to Celeste.

"Gabriella, what am I, some beggar you're tossing scraps to?"

"You cry poor to my face all day long, then don't blink at a gold bracelet worth tens of thousands. And you fob me off with a few hundred dollars of makeup?"

Celeste finished cursing, snatched the box out of my daughter's hands, and slammed it hard on the floor. The bottles cracked, lotion running everywhere.

Curtis grabbed the belt my daughter hadn't even handed over yet and threw it down too.

"Nothing I hate more than people with hidden agendas."

"A few hundred dollars in little handouts, and you think you can buy Mom and Dad's car and house?"

Seeing that from my son, even my last shred of hope went out.

Thirty years. Was this the kind of person I'd raised?

I couldn't hold it in. "I'm not a fool either. You don't trade away a watermelon for a sesame seed!"

Curtis smiled and shot my daughter a smug look.

"You hear that? Put away your little schemes."

When my daughter didn't bother answering him, he pushed further, laying into her.

"You married out, so stay out of your parents' affairs! Keep stirring the pot all you want. An outsider can't steal away flesh-and-blood family."

My daughter stood there, bewildered by the whole thing.

I stepped forward, stunned, and put her behind me.

"What's yours, no one can take from you. What isn't yours, you'll have to give back too!"

Celeste, seeing me shield my daughter, was the first to catch on.

"You old thing, a little handout and it blinds your dog eyes! You're just old. You're not blind. One bracelet and she thinks she's buying your mountain of gold. Can't you even tell your own kin from a stranger?"

Spit flew from Celeste's mouth, the whole private room reeking with her.

I drew my brows tight, raised my hand, and slapped her across the face.

"Can't tell my own from a stranger? Fine. Let me tell you right now who's my own and who's the stranger!"

Walter had never seen me lose my composure like this. He started, then kept saying, good, good.

"Shut that filthy mouth of yours!"

Seeing both her father and me angry, my daughter didn't understand what was happening. She tugged at my arm, trying to calm me down.

I said, "Curtis Lambert, you're the one we adopted. Gabriella is our own flesh and blood!"

Curtis's mouth fell open. He stared at me, disbelieving.

"Mom, you can be angry, but you can't just say things like that. It hurts people, talk like that!"

"I'm not just saying it. The adoption papers are back at the house."

It took Curtis only a few seconds to go from shock to something calm and easy.

I had no time for him. I kept going. "From today on, whether your father and I get sick or die, it has nothing to do with you."

Curtis listened quietly and didn't argue.

Celeste's eyes went wide, her mouth still foul. "You old wretch, who do you think you're fooling!"

A loud crack of a slap rang out.

Celeste had been hit hard across the face.

"You keep your mouth clean around my mother!"

Celeste was stunned that Curtis had struck her.

It took her a few minutes to register that it was Curtis who'd done it.

Out of habit, her eyes swung to me.

This time I folded my arms and watched, cold-eyed, with no intention of stepping in again. If these two wanted to put on a show for me, then I'd watch. Let's see how far they could carry this little double act.