“Fuck you, Peter. Fuck you!” Paige said. Even from the far end of the hallway, there were tears in her eyes.
Peter smirked. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“You don’t know anything, you asshole. Fuck you! I needed this.”
“Ellie needs it more.”
“Ellie needs it because she’s a fuckup that hasn’t worked a day in her life. I’m trying to go to school, Peter! You make up lies, to sink me? You’re supposed to be my twin!”
Her voice went a little shrill at the end there.
“What? You thought I’d be on your side? You only need money because Paul had too many kids to take care of any of them. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
“I think you and Ellie have demonstrated you aren’t worth the effort,” Uncle Paul said, his voice low. He’d approached Paige, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.
She stepped away, instead. She was crying, now. “I thought you’d at least play fair, Peter. Maybe you have to be loyal to Ellie because you grew up with her, but I thought you’d be fair, with me. We’re supposed to have a connection.”
“You hear about twins eating one another in the womb,” Peter said. “Maybe I got some of your brains, huh? Because that’s fucking stupid.”
Paige stared at him, incredulous. Then she slapped him, hard.
It was the catalyst for this entire thing to become a full-on fight. Not sniping one another, not lacing casual statements with words meant to cut. Shouting, Aunt Steph trying to grab Paige, and Paige ducking out of reach, running instead.
I was already running, myself, trying to catch up.
The man in scrubs, the bystander, stepped in, getting in my way. He bellowed a single word. “Stop!”
All fell momentarily silent. There was only the sound of Paige’s feet hitting the stairs as she made her way down.
I made my way through the group, and Molly did too.
“Molly,” the man at the door said. “She’s asking for you next.”
Molly and I both stopped. She looked paler than before.
Paige was emotionally wounded, Molly deathly afraid.
All of the rest of them, too, bristling, on edge.
“It’s my turn,” I said. “I’m Blake Thorburn. Go after Paige, Molly. I don’t think I’ll be long.”
“Cutting in, Blake?” Callan asked. “I think you were lying, about not wanting any of this.”
I gave him the finger. When I looked, Molly gave me a nod, before breaking into a run to chase Paige.
The man in scrubs ducked behind the door to say something, then reappeared. “She says it’s fine, Blake.”
I made my way into the bedroom, and the door slammed shut behind me, more because of the weight of the solid wood than any intention on my part.
Grandmother doesn’t look like someone who’s about to die. The room smelled of flowers and fresh air, from the windows that opened just above the garden.
She had been propped up in a sitting position in her bed, leaning against an arrangement of pillows. She was dressed in an old fashioned nightgown that extended to her broomstick-thin wrists, her hair tied back in a tight bun. Her eyes were sharp as they studied me, and her hands were steady as they raised a teacup to her lips. Her nurse stood to her left in his scrubs, her lawyer to her right was an Indian man in an immaculate suit. Her cat, maybe the largest housecat I’d ever seen, gray and well groomed, lay with its head in her lap.
She studied me, judging me, with a cool, calculating gaze.
“Well, this is refreshing,” she finally said. Her voice was clear. Not an old person’s voice. Certainly not a ninety-year old’s. “It feels like all the rest of them are dressed like they can’t wait for my funeral. Or maybe they’re too cheap to buy two outfits for the occasion.”
“With all due respect,” I said, picking my words carefully, “I don’t give a flying fuck, you disgusting, evil, rancid cunt.”
I could see the nurse tense, though the lawyer didn’t react. The feigned politeness disappeared from my grandmother’s face. Again, she raised the teacup to her mouth to sip from it. She handed it to the nurse, who turned away very reluctantly, to prepare another cup on the trolley beneath the window.
“Are you done?” she asked.
“I’m thinking both of us are very lucky you have these two men here,” I said. I put one of my feet up on the wooden chest at the foot of the bed, pointing at the trolley. “Because I’m angry enough I wouldn’t be above throwing that pitcher of water in your face.”
“I think that’s crude,” she said. “A more civilized person would use words to attack me.”
“What words are going to matter? What am I going to say that’s going to make an impact on you? Honestly, what am I going to do that’s going to make you recognize even an iota of the pain you’ve caused everyone out there?”
“And the pain I’ve caused you?” she asked. “You’re most likely right, I suppose. There’s very little that someone could say that would shake me.”
“You don’t deserve to die with dignity, you bitch,” I said. “And none of them are going to say it, because you’re playing them. Since I’m the only one that doesn’t give a fuck about the money, I figure I’m the only one that can come here and say it how it is. You’re scum, and you’re the one thing at the root of everything that’s going on out there.”
I pointed at the door. I could almost hear the shouting on the other side.
“I would argue they are at the roots of their individual problems. I didn’t make them petty, I didn’t make them greedy,” she said. She sighed a little. “This ridiculous money business.”
“You took advantage of those things, making all of this one big fucked up game. Laying down the rule, that only one person gets the property and the millions from selling it. Then you say it has to be a grandchild-“
“My children are useless,” she said. She was so dismissive and casual about it.
“-And then you drop the bomb that it has to be a girl. You broke up this family, you did it strategically. You set us tooth and nail against one another, and now you’re enjoying tearing the others down, ruining their hopes.”
She sniffed, but she smiled. I almost wanted to hit her. I wouldn’t, but I wanted to.
The nurse handed her the cup of tea. She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Rich.”
‘Rich’ turned my way. “I can offer you a cup as well, if you promise not to throw it at her.”
“Don’t offer me anything, then, thank you,” I said. I looked at my grandmother. “I don’t want anything she has to offer. Not tea, not the inheritance-“
“To clarify,” she said, “I’ve stressed repeatedly that it’s a female grandchild that will get the inheritance.”
“I’m not about to rule out the fact that you’re messing with us, grandmother. I could see you handing something over to Callan just to see our reactions. Not to mention the trouble I’m having with the ‘I’m dying’ bit, which you’re doing a really bad job of selling.”