How dare you come here asking for Kevin’s money? How dare you blame him for dying? He was worth a hundred of you, and you couldn’t even be bothered to comfort your own daughter when she was breaking apart. My parents looked genuinely shocked at my outburst. They had never seen me truly angry before, having raised me to be accommodating, to avoid conflict, to be the good daughter while Sophia got to be the demanding one.
We’re only asking for what’s fair. My father said stiffly, standing up. We’re your parents, Rachel.
We deserve respect. Respect is earned. I replied, my voice shaking, and you’ve earned none.
Now get out before Lily comes home and hears what kind of people her grandparents really are. They left in a huff. My mother making noises about me being ungrateful and my father muttering about reconsidering our relationship.
I closed the door behind them and sank to the floor, trembling with rage and hurt. Later that afternoon, when I picked Lily up from school, she seemed more withdrawn than usual. In the car, she finally spoke up.
Mommy, why were grandma and grandpa at our house today? My heart sank. Did you see them? She nodded. Mrs. Wilson let me go to the bathroom during math, and I saw their car from the school window.
Did they bring something for us? The innocent question broke my heart anew. No, sweetie, they just came to talk to me about some grown-up things. Did they ask about daddy’s money? She asked, surprising me with her perception.
What makes you say that? Lily looked down at her hands. I heard grandpa at the funeral telling Uncle James that we would get lots of money because daddy died. Is that true? That my eight-year-old daughter had overheard such a conversation made me physically ill.
Lily, your daddy made sure we would be taken care of, yes, but money doesn’t make up for not having him here with us. She nodded sagely. I would give all the money in the world to have daddy back.
Me too, baby, I whispered. Me too. That night, I called Marcus, who had returned to Japan but was planning to come back for an extended stay during his summer break to help us adjust.
I told him about my parents’ visit and their demand. Are you kidding me? He exploded. They… want half of Kevin’s life insurance? That’s insane, Rachel.
I know. I still can’t believe they actually asked, but I’m worried they might not let it go. My father can be very stubborn when he thinks he deserves something.
Marcus was quiet for a moment. Kevin talked to me about his financial planning, you know. He was very thorough, wanted to make sure Lily would be taken care of through college and beyond if anything happened to him.
He would be furious about… your parents trying to take that security away from her. I know, I said softly, the familiar ache of missing Kevin intensifying. I think I need to talk to Thomas about the legal situation just to be prepared.
That’s a good idea, Marcus agreed. And Rachel? Don’t let them manipulate you. Kevin protected you and Lily for a reason.
The next day, I met with Thomas at his I… office. He was sympathetic, but not surprised by my parents’ behavior. Unfortunately, I see this kind of thing more often than you’d think, he said, reviewing Kevin’s will and insurance documents.
But I can assure you, everything is airtight. Kevin designated you as the sole beneficiary of his life insurance and retirement accounts. Your parents have absolutely no legal claim to any of it.
Could they contest the will? I asked, worried. Thomas shook his head. The will is clear and properly executed, and even if they tried, they have no grounds.
Kevin was of sound mind, and parents have no automatic right to inherit from adult children, especially when there’s a spouse and child. That reassurance should have made me feel better. But as I left Thomas’ office, my phone buzzed with a string of text messages from my parents and, surprisingly, from Sophia.
From my father. We need to discuss this situation like adults. Call.
Me. From my mother. I raised you better than this, Rachel.
Family comes first. From Sophia. You’ve always been selfish, but this is low even for you.
Mom and dad deserve better. The hypocrisy of Sophia, who had barely looked up from her phone. During Kevin’s funeral, accusing me of being selfish was almost laughable.
Almost, if it weren’t so painful. That evening, as Lily and I were eating dinner, my father called. When I didn’t answer, he left a voicemail demanding a family meeting at their house on Sunday afternoon.
This concerns all of us, Rachel. Be there. At two o’clock.
Bring Lily. I set the phone down, my appetite gone. Involving Lily in this ugly situation was the last thing I wanted, but maybe it was time to have everything out in the open to make a final break if necessary.
With Thomas’ reassurance about the legal aspects, I felt more confident in standing my ground. Was that grandpa? Lily asked, pushing her peas around her plate. Yes, I admitted.
He wants us to come over on Sunday. Lily was quiet for a moment, then asked, do we have to go? The fact that my daughter, who had once loved visiting her grandparents, now seemed reluctant, spoke volumes. I think we should, I said carefully.
Sometimes it’s important to face difficult situations directly. She nodded, a look of determination crossing her face that reminded me painfully of Kevin. Okay, but can I bring something with me? I have an idea.
What kind of idea? I asked, curious about her sudden intensity. Just something daddy taught me about standing up for yourself, she said cryptically. Can I the computer after dinner? Agreed, wondering what my eight-year-old was planning, but trusting that whatever it was, it came from the good heart and strong values her father had helped instill in her.
The days following my parents’ visit were filled with conflicting emotions. Grief for Kevin remained a constant heavy weight, but now it was complicated by anger and betrayal toward my family. In quiet moments, when Lily was asleep, I found myself revisiting memories from childhood, seeing them in a new harsh light.
There were the dance recitals where my parents left early to make it to Sophia’s softball games, but never the other way around. The Christmas when I received practical clothes while Sophia got the expensive art supplies we both had asked for. The way my academic achievements were expected, while Sophia’s C grades were celebrated as trying her best.
Small inequities. That seemed insignificant individually, but formed a pattern when viewed collectively. I called Amanda, Kevin’s assistant, who had become a friend in the weeks since his death.
Am I overreacting? I asked her after explaining my parents’ demand. Is it normal to feel this angry? Or is it just grief making everything worse? Rachel, she said firmly, if my parents had done that to me, they’d be dead to me. What they did is beyond inappropriate.
It’s cruel. Her validation helped, as did a long conversation with Marcus that evening. He was planning to take a leave of absence from his teaching position to come stay with us for a few months, a kindness that brought me to tears.
Kevin made me promise, he explained. Years ago, when you were pregnant with Lily, he made me swear that if anything ever happened to him, I would be there for you both. I intend to keep that promise.
The contrast between Marcus’s loyalty to his brother’s wishes and my own parents’ behavior couldn’t have been starker. Meanwhile, Lily had been unusually focused on some project she was working on in her room, hunched over her desk with colored pencils and paper. When I asked what she was doing, she just smiled secretively and said, something important for Sunday.
On Saturday, I decided to review Kevin’s financial documents more thoroughly, wanting to be fully informed before the confrontation with my family. Kevin had been meticulous about our finances, keeping everything organized in a home office filing, cabinet. As I went through the folders, I found a sealed envelope with my name on it, in Kevin’s handwriting.
With trembling hands, I opened it to find a letter dated just three months earlier, around the time of his last physical. My dearest. Rachel, it began.
If you’re reading this, it means the doctor’s concerns about my heart were more serious than I let on. I didn’t want to worry you, but I’ve updated our will and insurance policies just in case. Everything goes to you, with provisions for Lily’s education and future.