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\nDad did not.<\/p>\n
\nDad did not.<\/p>\n
Vanessa then informed me that she would box up whatever was left in my childhood bedroom and have Grant leave it near the garage.<\/p>\n
Grant took over again.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t make this difficult. Don\u2019t challenge the will or demand things that aren\u2019t yours. Vanessa stayed close to home. She deserves this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked through the kitchen window at frost whitening the backyard.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou made your choice years ago,\u201d Grant continued.<\/p>\n
Then he said the one thing that changed Dad\u2019s face completely.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father obviously knew who really loved him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad went perfectly still.<\/p>\n
I reached for the phone, ready to end the call.<\/p>\n
He raised one hand.<\/p>\n
Stop.<\/p>\n
Then he pointed toward himself.<\/p>\n
I hesitated.<\/p>\n
He pointed again.<\/p>\n
Vanessa\u2019s voice sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cNatalie? Are you still there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. Then understand this clearly. Dad made his decision. Everything belongs to Grant and me now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grant laughed again.<\/p>\n
\u201cFinally.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad stood.<\/p>\n
He tightened the belt of his robe and walked around the kitchen table.<\/p>\n
Vanessa was still talking about funeral arrangements, property, accounts, and everything she believed she had inherited from the man now standing beside me.<\/p>\n
Dad bent toward the speakerphone.<\/p>\n
Grant was still laughing when my father finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cInteresting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
Absolute silence.<\/p>\n
The car noise remained in the background, but Vanessa said nothing.<\/p>\n
Grant said nothing.<\/p>\n
Dad leaned a little closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me more about my funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a sharp sound from Vanessa\u2019s end.<\/p>\n
Maybe a hand hitting the dashboard.<\/p>\n
Maybe the phone slipping.<\/p>\n
Then she whispered, \u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
I had not seen that expression on his face since I was a teenager and had once backed his truck into the mailbox.<\/p>\n
Not rage.<\/p>\n
Worse.<\/p>\n
Disappointment sharpened into something very deliberate.<\/p>\n
\u201cMorning, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vanessa inhaled so hard the sound came through the speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re alive.\u201d<\/p>\n