The Week At The Gulf

Rick calls back

Rick called that Thursday. I had been waiting for it.

“Have you and Dad talked it through?” he said. Brisk. Already sure.

“We have,” I said.

“And?”

“We’re not going to cash in the CD, honey.”

The silence on the line had a temperature to it.

“You’re not,” he said.

“No.”

“Mom. It’s my inheritance. I’m asking for a bridge loan against my own money and you’re telling me no.”

“It’s not your money yet,” I said. “It’s ours. And the answer is no.”

“I can’t believe this.” His voice was climbing. “Do you know how this looks? My own parents won’t float me when I’m this close? You’ve got three hundred grand sitting in a CD earning nothing and you’d rather watch it rot than help your son.”

Here it came. The part where I was supposed to feel small.

“We’re not watching it rot,” I said. “We’re going to spend a little of it.”

“On what?”

“On the grandkids,” I said. “We’re taking all seven of them to the Gulf in June. A week. Our treat.”

There was a pause.

“You’re spending my inheritance on a beach trip,” Rick said.

“We’re spending a little of our money on your children, and your sister’s, and your brother’s,” I said. “Nine thousand dollars of it. You can keep the rest in the math for your timeline.”

“This is unbelievable,” he said. “This is you being passive-aggressive because I asked for a loan.”

“No,” I said, as gently as I knew how. “This is your father and me deciding what to do with our own money. You taught me something at my table on Tuesday, Rick. You sat there forty minutes and never said one of their names. Not one. So your dad and I are going to go learn their names all over again. On the beach.”

I did not raise my voice once. I want that on the record. Ruth from my Bible study always says a grudge is poison you drink yourself, and she is right, and I was not drinking any.

“Are the boys invited?” Rick said, and for just a second there was something small and real under the anger. His boys. Our three grandsons on his side.

“Of course they are,” I said. “They’re half the reason. Donna too, if she wants the sun. You too, Rick. There’s a porch and plenty of room. Come be with your kids.”

He said he’d think about it. He did not come. I will get to that.