Two Million and Fifty Cents

My mother won two million dollars on a scratchoff, and she sealed a card into an envelope for each of her three kids. We opened them.

My brother's card had a check for a million dollars. So did my sister's. Out of my card fell two quarters.

She saw me go blank, and something nervous went across her face. "Derek, your brother and sister had it hard, losing your dad so young. So I gave them a million apiece.

To make up for it." "Your dad's gone. The oldest steps up, the oldest gives way.

Don't fight them on this, all right?" I looked down at the old winter coat I had on, the color washed out of it. Then at Troy, in his limitededition sneakers.

Then at Marissa, with her designer bag. My mother seemed to have forgotten that when my father died, I was only eight myself. I gave a small laugh. "Okay.

I won't fight for it." She let out a breath.

Then my voice went cold. "And the job of taking care of you from here on — I won't fight anybody for that either." Chapter 1 "Derek, what is that supposed to mean?

Two million dollars, and you're cutting me out of your life?" Her eyes were rimmed red, her voice unsteady. "Mom, I'm not cutting you off.

It's just that from now on, your living expenses, your doctors, your medicine, all of it gets split three ways." "And the three of us take turns having you stay with us.

People say having a parent in the house is a blessing. A blessing like that, I shouldn't be hogging it all to myself." I said it calmly.

Down on the floor the coins caught the light, and the glare made my eyes ache. My mother got flustered fast. "That won't work!

Do you have any idea how worn out your brother and sister would be?" "Worn out from what? I'll have your bags sent over tomorrow. Four months at each house.

That makes exactly a year." She could see I wasn't joking, and it made her worse. "They're young. What do they know about taking care of anybody?" Troy was thirty.

Marissa was twentyeight. In my mother's eyes they were still children. But the year my father died, I got treated like a grown man. She kept going. "My stomach's bad.

I have to have that special soup somebody makes for me every morning. Your sister has a husband and kids to look after.

Where would she find the time to cook it?" "I've got the brace on my leg. Every Monday I have to go in and have it checked.

What if it makes your brother miss work?" "And my diabetes. I need my insulin every single day.

What would those two know about that?" "Besides, the medicine, the appointments, none of it's free. They don't make what you make.

How are they supposed to carry it?" … It pulled a mocking little smile out of me. So she had known the whole time. Everything my wife and I did for her.

She just hadn't cared, because it was us doing it. "If they don't know how, they'll learn." "And they've each got a million dollars now.

What it costs isn't going to bother them." Troy wasn't having it. He slapped the table and started yelling. "Why should we, Derek? Mom's doing just fine at your place.

What gives you the right to make the two of us take her?" I looked at him, cold. "The fact that she's your mother too." Troy's face went red.

He wouldn't let it go. "That's different! Dad's gone. The oldest carries more." "You're jealous, Derek, that's all this is. Jealous that Mom gave the money to us." "It's her money.

She can give it to whoever she wants.

It's none of your business." I gave a cold laugh. "Where did the money for her lottery tickets come from?" My mother had no pension and no savings.

From the day I started working, I'd sent her three thousand dollars a month.

She took that money to the corner store every day and bought scratchoffs, and whatever was left she slipped to the two of them. Everybody knew it. "So — so what?

You gave it to her. Once you give it, it's her money.

She can spend it any way she likes!" Chapter 2 The two coins on the floor glared harder now, as if they were laughing at everything I'd ever put in.

It was never the money I cared about. It was the naked favoritism, and the humiliation of it. "Derek, you're being so cheap.

You make good money, you don't have to worry about it, not like Troy and me. We bring home a few thousand a month. You and your wife earn that million back in a year.

Why are you fighting us over it?" Marissa pouted at me, sour about all of it. "Besides, you've got money. What's wrong with spending a little more on Mom?

You're the oldest, aren't you?" That made me laugh out of pure anger. "I'm the oldest. I'm not the family ATM." "If that doesn't work for you, I'll see you in court." Crack.

The words were barely out of my mouth when the sound of a slap cut through the room. The whole room went still.

My mother's arm hung at her side, shaking a little, and the look she gave me was full of disappointment. "Derek, when did you get so selfish?" "When your father was dying he made a point of telling you to look after your brother and sister.

And here you are, ready to drag them into court over two million dollars. I think you're trying to put me in my grave." She was worked up.

Marissa hurried over and put a glass of water in her hand. The right side of my face was burning. I looked at her, unwilling to let it go. "Mom, I'm your child too.

All I want is for this to be fair." My eyes went hot as I said it, all the hurt I'd been swallowing for years coming out in it. Troy snorted. "How old are you, Derek?

You're acting like a kid who didn't get any candy." "Fair? Mom gave you fifty cents, didn't she? What are you making a scene about?" Marissa jumped in behind him. "Exactly.

Derek, why can't you act like an adult about this?" "I think you're sick of having Mom around and you're looking for an excuse to push her out." "Did you and your wife plan this out ahead of time?

You can't be that heartless." Troy picked it up, hot about it. "Right, Derek. You talk about how good you are to Mom.

Who knows what she's been putting up with in your house." "Otherwise why would she give the money to the two of us?" The anger came up through me.

I got the words out through my teeth. "Mom. Did you have to put up with anything in my house?" Her eyes slid away from mine. She turned her head. She didn't answer.

Troy took that for proof he had me, and he was pleased with himself. "Let me tell you how this goes, Derek. Mom is staying at my place tonight.

Tomorrow you bring your wife over here, you apologize to Mom, and you take her home yourself.

Otherwise I'm calling the police, and then I'm reporting the two of you for elder abuse." Whatever was left in me for them died right there. I answered coldly. "Good.

I'll be waiting." Then I turned and walked out. On the drive home the tears blurred everything in front of me.

The humiliation of fifty cents, the sting of the slap, none of it broke me the way my mother's silence did while those two turned everything upside down. I finally saw it clearly.

From the day my father died, my mother had only two children, and they were Troy and Marissa. When I got home I went into my mother's room without a word.

I pulled out a suitcase and started packing her things. My wife saw it and didn't understand what she was looking at. "Why are you back by yourself?

Where's Mom?" My hands stopped on the clothes for a second. I kept my face flat. "Mom's going to stay at Troy's for a while.

She wants me to bring her clothes over." A flicker of worry crossed my wife's face. "Mom needs her insulin every day, and somebody has to cook her meals separately for the diabetes.

Does Troy have the patience for that?" "And Mondays, somebody has to take her in for the leg.

Is he going to have time for that?" … Chapter 3 She kept on, one thing after another, and every bit of it was worry for my mother. My eyes stung.

If she knew that after all that careful looking after, she was being accused of abusing her motherinlaw, I couldn't imagine how much it would hurt her. "Honey, don't worry about any of that.

I told Troy everything. From now on the three of us take turns with her." She stopped where she stood.

My mother had lived with us for seven years, and in all that time neither Troy nor Marissa had ever once offered to take her. "Derek. What happened?

Tell me." She knew something was wrong now, and she kept asking. There was no keeping it from her. I told her all of it, start to finish.

When I was done she was quiet for a long time. Then she came over and packed alongside me.

When the bags were closed she brought out a stack of medical bills. "He wants to call the police on us?

These are the records from every appointment I took Mom to." "And these are the transfers we've sent her all these years." She was calm in a way that frightened me.

I took them and sat up that night building a spreadsheet, then printed it out.

First thing in the morning I called a sameday courier and sent my mother's luggage and the printouts over to Troy's. I thought seeing the proof would shame them at least a little.

Instead, the next day the family group chat blew up. Troy tagged me and my wife straight off. [What is this, you two?

Why did you throw Mom out of your house?] Then he posted a photo of the luggage. [So because my mom won two million dollars on a lottery ticket, and gave me and my sister a million apiece, and only gave you fifty cents, you got sore and put her out on the street?] [Do the two of you have any conscience at all?] After that the whole chat put me on trial. [Derek, you two have gone too far.

How can you treat your own mother like that?] [Your dad's gone. The oldest steps up for his brother and sister, isn't that how it works?

Why are you being so cheap about it?] [Right. And anyway, your mother did give you fifty cents. It's the thought that counts.

Why do the two of you have to count every penny?] Marissa came in right behind. [Derek, I know what this is.

You're mad that Troy and I haven't been taking care of Mom.] [Sure, Mom lived with you for seven years, and for seven years her health has been bad.

Probably from the two of you upsetting her.] [If you caused it, shouldn't you be the ones to see it through?] I watched the two of them turn the truth inside out, and I was shaking with anger.

I was about to post the evidence and hit back. A second later my wife and I were both removed from the family chat.

Then my phone rang. "Honey, are you okay?" Her voice was the same as always, as if none of it had touched her. I felt myself settle. "I'm fine.

Don't take what they said to heart." "I know. It's just…" She paused. "I already had a locksmith come and change the locks." Right. My mother had a key to our house.

Troy and Marissa were sure to send her right back. "I'm sorry. I can't face them calmly right now." I knew how hard she was holding herself together. "You did the right thing.

Let's stay somewhere else for a few days." Not long after we hung up, my phone went off again, insistent. It was my mother. I took a breath and answered. "Derek, what is going on?

Why won't your door open?" Her voice came through sharp, and I felt my face tighten.

Chapter 4 "Mom, since my house is where you've been suffering, from now on you live with Troy and Marissa." "I don't care about the two million anymore.

And I don't want you either." I said it coldly, and on the other end of the line Troy blew up. "Are you out of your mind, Derek?

She broke her back raising you, and you're cutting her off?" Inside, I gave a cold laugh. "Not just her.

From here on, the two of you are nothing to me either." Then Marissa's voice came through, shrill. "You want to dump Mom on us so the two of you can have an easy life, is that it?" "Let me tell you, that is not happening.

Not a chance." "If you're set on wrecking our lives, we won't let you have a good one either." At the threat, my hand closed into a fist.

So they knew perfectly well how much it takes out of you to care for an old woman. They had always known.

And not only was there never a thankyou, they stood there with clear consciences and pinned things on my wife and me that we never did. "Fine.

Then nobody has a good life." I hung up. I'd seen all three of them for exactly what they were, and I was done swallowing it. I got myself under control and went back to work.

I wanted the work to numb me. It wasn't long before the receptionist came running back, flustered. "Mr. Kessler, there's a problem out front.

Your brother and your sister have your mother out there in a wheelchair, making a scene." "They're saying you're selfish, that you throw your weight around, that you bully your brother and sister, that you abuse your own mother." "They're shouting for you to come out and answer for it." "What