I bought my parents a $425,000 seaside mansion for their 50th anniversary, but when I arrived, my mother was crying and my father was shaking…
Then the shouting reached me.
I opened the front door without knocking.
My mother stood by the staircase, crying into a dish towel. My father stood near the entry table, shaking so hard that his glasses had slid down his nose. Craig was inches from him, broad-shouldered, red in the face, stabbing one finger through the air.
“This is my house now, old man,” Craig yelled. “You and Helen need to pack your things and get out.”
Vanessa leaned against the kitchen archway, drinking wine from one of Mom’s crystal glasses. She laughed as if the whole thing were entertainment.
“Dad, don’t be dramatic,” she said. “You and Mom don’t need all this space. Craig and I have kids. Ethan won’t care.”
Craig pushed a cardboard box toward my father’s feet.
“Door’s right there,” he snapped. “Use it.”
My father’s lips moved, but nothing came out.
That was when I walked in and shut the door behind me.
The music continued for half a second before someone in the living room switched it off.
Vanessa’s smile vanished.
Craig turned around slowly.
I looked at the box, at my father’s trembling hands, at my mother’s tear-streaked face, and then back at my sister.
“Interesting,” I said quietly. “Tell me again whose house this is.”
