No one laughed.
Denver stood by the fireplace. Mom stayed near the kitchen. I sat by Grandma Elsie.
Dad’s smile faltered.
“Mom,” he said. “You came.”
Grandma Elsie held his gaze. “I wanted to see the pictures.”
My hands were cold, but I kept them still.
I pointed to the gift box on the coffee table.
“I wanted to see the pictures.”
“We made you something.”
Dad brightened too fast. “For me?”
“Open it.”
He tore the paper and lifted the album.
“The Trip Grandma Paid For,” he read, trying to laugh.
Denver crossed his arms. “Read it out loud.”
Dad looked at Mom. She didn’t help him.
“The Trip Grandma Paid For.”
“Read it,” she said.
He opened the first page.
His smile thinned. Then he slammed the album shut. “That’s enough.”
“No,” I said, picking up the remote. “Grandma sat alone in an airport. You can sit through the truth.”
I turned on the TV.
The slideshow started with their vacation photos, then switched to proof. Grandma’s withdrawal slip. My airport parking receipt. Then Dad’s texts filled the screen.
“That’s enough.”
“She gave it toward the trip.”
“She was slowing everyone down.”
“It was basically her gift to the family. Tell her we’re grateful.”
Dad’s face reddened. “You’re twisting this.”
Grandma Elsie spoke before I could.
“Then untwist it, Russell.”
“Tell her we’re grateful.”
He looked at her.
She held the blue scarf at her throat. “Where was my ticket?”
The room went silent.
Dad opened his mouth, but no answer came.
Mom stepped forward. “You told me she got scared.”
“I was trying to save the trip,” Dad said.
He looked at her.
“No,” Mom said. “You were trying to save your lie.”
Denver shook his head. “I took pictures in restaurants she paid for.”
Dad pointed at him. “You’re a kid. Stay out of it.”
Denver’s face hardened. “I’m old enough to know you left Grandma behind.”
Dad grabbed the album. “This is humiliating.”
Grandma Elsie stood.
“I was humiliated at the airport,” she said. “This is just everyone finding out why.”
“I’m old enough to know you left Grandma behind.”
Dad looked at Mom. “Are you letting them do this?”
Mom folded her arms. “I’m canceling that home theater system you ordered before we left.”
“What?”
“Your mother gets paid before this house gets another toy.”
“Tonight, you write a repayment plan,” Mom said. “If you don’t, I’ll help Elsie take every receipt and message to court.”
Grandma Elsie looked tired, but not small.
“Are you letting them do this?”
