Page 88 of The Surprise
Dad’s face brightens and flushes. “You’re one to talk. You’ve never done a thing—had a single penny—that I didn’t give you.”
“I’d rather be poor and honest than lie so I can steal from Aunt Donna.” I shake my head. “But I will go and talk to her about the truth, just like you talked to me.”
“You think your aunt willjustgiveme the life insurance policy to repay the ranch debt?” Dad’s laugh is harsh. “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
“You’re acting like she’s like you, but she’s not.” My voice is flat. “Just because you’d never do that doesn’t mean she won’t.”
Dad’s jaw muscles work like crazy. “You’re the biggest disappointment of all.” He turns and walks into his room.
I should be gutted.
He meant that as an insult to wound me.
But it backfired. Because disappointing my dad may be the best thing I’ve ever truly done.
The next two hours are not high points. I sneak into the wedding I was supposed to attend as a guest, and then when I find a lull where I see Donna standing near the edge of the ballroom, I grab her and drag her outside.
I’m pretty sure my dad’s right. I mean, if I were her, I’d never hand over the inheritance Dad tried to steal. . .to Dad. But to my utter shock, my pathetic plea for clemency works. She agrees to give Dad the ranchandthe majority of the insurance money. And a few weeks later, she follows through on her promise.
But it turns out, the only real chump in this whole thing. . .is me. Getting the money back does win Mom over. Or maybe it’s the promise Aunt Donna wrangled out of him to attend anger management. I’m not sure which. Either way, Mom takes him back.
I didn’t think she would.
But then, Dad stabs his sister in the back again, and he betrays me in the process as well by listing the ranch—that he just got improperly and paid off out of the largesse of his sister’s heart—for sale. I feel so guilty about being a part of it that I can’t even bring myself to call Aunt Donna. I appealed to her goodness, and then Dad spat on her yet again.
“I don’t know why you’re sore about it,” Mom says. “Your parents are happy, our debts are paid with a nice pile of money to invest besides, and we’re headed to Seattle.Finally.”
“Where you can start your freshman year at a pretty darn good school.” Dad’s cheesy grin makes me think of the cartoon dads in almost every Disney movie ever.
“I don’t want to go to the University of Washington,” I say. “I only applied because you kept badgering me.”
“It’s a good thing we did,” Mom says. “I didn’t really think you’d get in.”
“Your grandparents are proud,” Dad says, as if he wasn’t badmouthing them a few weeks ago.
“How about this?” Mom asks. “Come out for the weekend with us. See how nice it will be when we move there.”
I still can’t believe Dad just agreed to Mom’s terms.
Actually, scratch that. My dad would probably agree to fur transplants and start making the transition to being a furry, if that’s what Mom wanted. What I can’t believe is that he did it without even putting up a fight. Without even a grace period.
That’s when I realize that’s preciselywhyhe agreed so fast.
He’s embarrassed every time he sees his sister, and he agreed to move to Seattleto run away.
The whole thing disgusts me. “I don’t want to go for the weekend, and I certainly don’t want to move there.”
“Well, too bad,” Mom says. “Because we won’t pay for your college if you don’t move.” She folds her arms like she’s played their trump card.
“Are you deaf?” I stomp. “I just said I don’t want to go to college there.”
“We won’t pay for it anywhere,” Dad says. “Even if you got into UCLA.”
“But if you come, I bet your grandparents will get involved enough that they’ll pay for it,” Mom says.
There it is. Their actual plan. If we move to Seattle and engage the sympathies of my mega-rich grandparents, they’ll probably pay for my school so they can brag about my successes. The exact trade Dad was boasting about sparing my mom earlier.
“Oh, I dearly hope so.”
