The Inheritance Pt. 01-02

Leesa nodded. "We could stay on one of those islands for now, and then when Daddy comes home, we can all look for a house together like he wants. We got enough money now, don't we?"

Amber shook her head. "First of all, just because we got the inheritance, that doesn't mean you two are quitting school. We can't just go to some island. And second, we can't be throwing money away right now. Things are a little tight; that's why Tim's still working the two jobs. Don't worry, you'll get your swimming pool after your dad gets out."

Shanice sipped the last of her juice and wiggled the empty glass at me. I hopped up to get her more. When I returned to my chair, the very second after I sat down, my mother-in-law smirked and pointed at her cup. "Coffee's cold, Tim." With tight lips, I rose and served her a warmup, knowing in my heart that she'd deliberately waited until I'd sat down to issue the order.

Veronica took a slurp. "Anything new on the parole?"

"No, everything's still a go with that supervisor as far as I know." Amber sighed. "Five days till the hearing. I'm going crazy."

"Me too," Shanice whined. "I can't wait for Daddy to come home."

"I can't either, honey," Veronica said. "It's been a while since I've seen your father."

Amber nodded. "Ever since I came to live with you after twins were born, right before he got arrested. Seven years."

"Wow, has it been that long?" Veronica chuckled. "I still can't believe Dumbo had the balls to try to leave you."

My wife scoffed. "Yeah, that lasted what? Two days?"

"Barely." Veronica sneered at me. "You know how ridiculous you looked, begging on your knees in my living room, with your nose dripping blood all over my carpet?"

Shanice tugged her grandmother's sleeve. "Ooh, Na-Na, tell us again how Daddy kicked Dumbo's butt."

Veronica leaned back in her chair. "Well, after you two were born, shit-for-brains here decides he wants a divorce and kicks your mom out of the mansion. So, for the first few days after you guys came home from the hospital, you all lived with me."

My mother-in-law shot me a dirty look and continued. "Dumbo's family are a bunch of racists, and after you were born, this idiot took their side at first. Then, he shows up a few days later banging on my door, begging your mom to take him back. The dumbass didn't know your father was there, too."

"And Daddy kicked his butt?" Leesa's eyes glowed.

"All over my living room," Veronica said. "He was begging him: 'please, please.' It was pathetic. When your dad gets done thrashing him, the idiot drops to his knees and begs your mother to stay with him anyway."

Shanice nodded. "And Mama said no, huh?"

"I didn't want to be married to Dumbo, I wanted your dad," Amber said, continuing the humiliating story that had become part of family lore. "But then, after your father got arrested, I decided if the loser wanted to stick around, I'd go ahead and let him."

Leesa scowled at me. "I can't believe you kicked Mama out."

I squirmed in my chair. "Well, Leese, it was ... it was a confusing time. I still feel bad about it."

My stepdaughter glared. "You should feel bad."

Bowing my head, I said nothing. Everyone went back to eating and I relaxed a bit, relieved that the focus was off me.

Veronica cut a piece of ham. "So, you guys have any idea where you're gonna be looking for houses?"

"Well, it has to be in Illinois, obviously, because of the parole," Amber said. "He says he wants a place on the lake, but I told him it might get cold in the winter."

"So what?" Shanice shrugged. "We can just buy another house for the winter where it's warm."

Amber tittered. "We don't have a money tree, sweetie. Even though $5 million is in the account, we only get $30,000 a month."

"Yeah, 'only' thirty grand a month." Veronica scoffed. "That's still pretty good money from where I'm sitting. Dumbo, how the hell did a putz like you end up being born into a family like that?"

"Oh, he never belonged in that family; he was always an outsider," Amber said, turning to me. "Tell her how your dad would leave you at home."

I shuffled my feet. "I dunno ... they'd take vacation. Sometimes I went--"

Amber scoffed. "Yeah, and most of the time they left your ass at home. Why was that, Tim? Tell her."

I blinked at my wife. "Aw, come on, Amber."

"What's wrong, Tim? Don't you want everyone to know how you pissed your pants until you were 14 years old, and so your dad would leave you at home with the help when the family took vacations?"

The twins cracked up. "Ewwwww, Tim peed his pants until he was 14," Leesa crowed.

"I'm not surprised." Veronica sniffed. "He pissed his pants as a kid -- and he's full of shit as an adult."

Everyone laughed while I played with my food.

"The Inheritance," Chapter 8

by c.w. cobblestone

I had just dozed off with a book on my chest when Amber's voice joggled me upright.

"Tim! Come here."

Rubbing my eyes, I rolled off the couch and trudged upstairs to my wife's bedroom, where she was kicked back in bed gabbing on the phone. I stood there for probably two minutes while she relaxed and bullshitted.

She finally said, "hang on, Sheila," before turning to me. "Go find my high school yearbooks. I think they're in the basement; probably in one of those boxes on the back shelves."

"Uh, okay, let me see if I can dig 'em out."

Amber ignored me and returned to her conversation, so I headed to the basement. When I pulled a box from the shelf and opened the lid, I was thrilled to see the four Lakeview High School yearbooks amid a pile of magazines. I collected the school annuals and rushed upstairs to Amber's room.

Grinning, I held up the prizes. "Look, they were in the very first box I checked."

"Excuse me, one second, Sheila," Amber said to her old classmate before scowling at me. "Do you not see I'm on the phone, Tim?"

My shoulders slumped. "S-sorry, Amber." I held out the yearbooks. "Here, I ... I found 'em."

"So?" She sneered. "You waiting for a tip or something?"

I grinned self-consciously. "N-no."

"Well, bring 'em here, dumb-shit."

As I shuffled toward the bed, my wife said into the receiver, "he's such a moron sometimes."

Setting the yearbooks on the mattress next to Amber, I plodded out of her bedroom with my bottom lip drooping. I shrugged off my wife's ball-busting and reclaimed my spot on the couch.

Seconds after closing my eyes, I was again beckoned by that familiar bitchy tone: "Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmm!."

With a huff, I roused myself and retraced my steps. This time my wife addressed me immediately.

"What time are you picking up the twins from soccer?"

"Um, I was about to take a nap and was gonna go after that."

"Never mind a nap -- you need to go get a cheese tray ready, and make sure there's wine; Sheila will be over in about a half hour."

"Uh, sure. Anything in particular you want for snacks?"

"I said a cheese tray, dumbass. What do you think I want? Cheese." Amber snickered at something her friend said. "Yes, he's still a fucking idiot."

Trooping to the kitchen, I cut up a variety of cheeses and arranged the wedges on a serving plate before covering it with plastic wrap and putting it in the fridge. I then headed out to pick up the twins.

As soon as I pulled up in front of the school, the girls ran toward the car.

I frowned, "Hey, guys, is something wrong?"

Leesa rolled her eyes. "No, nothing's wrong, Tim, our new uniforms are here and you got to come sign for them."

"Well ... I ... uh ..."

Mr. McGowan, the soccer coach, walked up to the car carrying a box in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

"Good evening, Mr. Greene," he said, using Hakim's last name, which his daughters had kept instead of taking mine, even though I'd adopted them. "Sign for the girls' uniforms?" He offered the clipboard.

"Um, well, uh ... my wife usually signs stuff having to do with the kids."

Mr. McGowan knitted his brow. "Um ... okay, but it's just for uniforms, Mr. Greene. I suppose, uh, I can hold onto them until your wife comes and signs for them, but I do need someone to sign."

Shanice grimaced. "Come on, Tim, just sign it."

"Yeah, Tim, we got a game tomorrow and we need our new uniforms," Leesa whined.

"Uh, well, okay," I said with a gulp, taking the clipboard from the coach and signing the form in a wavering hand.

Mr. McGowan passed me the box. "Have a good evening, Mr. Greene." He walked away shaking his head.

From the backseat, the twins both snatched the box out of my hands and tore it open. As I drove homeward, they oohed and ah'ed over their shiny red uniforms.

Shanice announced out of the blue: "I want Dairy Queen."

"Ooh, yeah, Dairy Queen," Leesa concurred.

"Um, I don't know, guys. Your mom's friend from high school is over, and I think she wants us to get back."

"Call and ask her," Leesa said.

"Yeah, call and ask," her twin repeated.

I glanced at my stepdaughters in the rearview mirror. "Guys, I don't want to bother your mom when she's with her friend. There's ice cream in the freezer; if your ma says it's okay, I can make a couple nice sundaes when we get home. How's that?"

"I want Dairy Queen." Leesa folded her arms.

Shanice nodded. "Me too. Call Mom, Tim."

I didn't want to, but I phoned Amber.

She answered on the third ring. "What?"

"Um, sorry to bug you ... um, but the girls want Dairy Queen."

"So?"

"Well, I ... I was just calling to see if it's okay if we stop there."

"I don't care, Tim -- why are you bothering me with this shit? I'm trying have a damn conversation." She hung up.

I sucked in a breath and put on a happy face. "Good news, guys. Dairy Queen it is!"

"Yeah, thanks to Mom." Leesa smirked. "You're too scared to take a crap unless she says it's okay."

Shanice scoffed. "Wait till Dad moves in."

"OMG, Tim will be peeing his pants like he did when he was a teenager." Leesa giggled.

"I want to see Tim get his butt kicked by Dad." Shanice's eyes flashed. "He'll be all like, 'please, please, please don't hurt me.' Just like Na-Na said he did back when Dad kicked his butt the first time." She sneered at me through the mirror. "You was begging him not to hurt you, huh, Tim?"

I cleared my throat. "Now, come on, girls, that was a long time ago during a very difficult time. All that's over with now. We're all adults, and there's not gonna be any fighting. Everyone's gonna get along fine."

Leesa sniffed. "Yeah, as long as you do what my dad says. If you don't--"

"--he'll kick your butt," Shanice finished.

"Hey, Tim, are you scared of my dad?" Leesa asked.

I ignored the question and kept driving, feeling a rush of relief when the Dairy Queen sign came into view. "Okay, guys, here we are, what'll it be?"

I ordered two Blizzards in the drive-through, and for the rest of the trip the twins were too busy stuffing their faces to continue mocking me.

When we got home, Amber and Sheila were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the dining room table, the Lakeview yearbooks spread out before them.

Amber looked up. "Girls, you remember Sheila?"

Shanice smiled. "I remember. You gave us that big stuffed tiger. It was cute."

"That's right, honey, I'm glad you liked it," Sheila said. "You're both getting so big."

"We got our new soccer uniforms," Leesa said, opening the box and presenting the garment to her mom's friend.

"It's so pretty." Sheila rubbed her hand across the shiny material. "I like that color red."

"Mine's like that, too," Shanice offered.

"I bet you're both great soccer players." Sheila smiled at the twins, who shrugged.

"Why don't you two go play somewhere?" Amber said, and the girls exited the room.

Sheila turned to me and smirked. "Hey, Tim. I see you ain't missed too many meals since the last time I saw you, huh?"

I squirmed. "Heh, heh, yeah, I guess I have gained a few."

Amber scoffed. "If you call 50 pounds 'a few.'"

"Well, Tim never was what you'd call skinny," Sheila said.

"Or manly," Amber added, and the old friends cracked up.

Taking note of the almost-empty bottle of wine on the table, I gritted my teeth. "Um, you guys need anything?"

Amber shook her head. "We're good, Dumbo. Leave us alone."

I made a beeline for the living room and rested on the couch with my book. It was difficult to read, though, because I could hear the ladies' conversation.

"So, what's it like being a millionaire, Amber?" Sheila slurred her words, as she apparently was well on her way to being hammered.

"I don't really feel like a millionaire, to be honest," my wife said. "I know thirty grand a month is nice money, but it's not the same as having access to the whole $5 million. Does that make sense?"

"Sure, you can't go dropping $1 million on a new yacht if you want to. But that Escalade out there sure is sharp."

"Thanks. I'm gonna have Dumbo take it tomorrow to have the windows tinted."

Sheila chuckled. "Damn, girlfriend, I guess it finally paid off letting that fat motherfucker stick around, huh?"

"Yeah, I was planning on divorcing his ass after Hakim got out, but now with this inheritance, the whole picture changed. The will says I can't get any of the money in a divorce, so I had to rethink things. The idiot still wants to stay with me after Hakim comes home, so fuck it -- if he wants to be a fucking sap and let me keep using him, I say let him."

"Shit, just have him bumped off." Sheila giggled. "I'm sure Hakim knows someone."

"Nope. If the loser dies, the will says his brother gets his share of the estate. So, I'm fucked. I can either let the idiot stick around or kick his ass out, but then I won't get any of the money."

I lay on the couch fuming, not sure whether they were unaware that I could hear every word they were saying, or if they knew and just didn't give a shit.

A rattle at the front door startled me, but when I peeked out the curtains, I saw the Amazon man walking away and a package on the doorstep. Inside the box were the two Kindle Fires I had seen on sale a few days earlier and ordered for the twins.

"What's that?" Amber asked from the dining room, where she could see me fumbling with the box.

I carried the two devices into the next room and showed them to my wife. "They had Kindle Fires on sale, and I thought I'd surprise the girls," I said.

Amber scoffed. "That was a dumb-fuck thing to do."

Sheila giggled.

I shifted from foot to foot. "Um, why, Amber? They're the top-of-the line Fires, and it was a really good price, I thought."

"First of all, aren't we still supposed to be saving money?"

"Well, yeah, but I thought--"

"That's your problem right there: You thought. Don't think; you'll only hurt yourself." Amber jeered at the devices in my hand. "Those are shit, Tim. I'm planning on getting iPads for the girls; have they seen those pieces of shit yet?"

"N-no, Amber, the package just came."

"Well, get 'em the fuck out of here and send 'em back for a refund," Amber slurred, obviously just as drunk as her friend. "And the next time you feel like doing something stupid, check with me first, dumbass."

Sheila laughed. "Damn, girl, you are straight up cold. Why you put up with that shit, Tim?"

"Because he's a fucking loser, that's why," Amber answered for me.

I stood there trying not to cry. My wife scowled.

"Did you need something else?"

"N-no."

"Well, then you can go."

Head hung low, my soul in the shitter, I slogged out of sight.

"The Inheritance," Chapter 9

by c.w. cobblestone

The kitchen floor couldn't possibly have gotten any cleaner but I polished the linoleum again anyway. Everything had to be perfect for Hakim's homecoming or my ass would surely be grass.

The house was eerily quiet. Amber had taken the twins up to the prison so the whole family would be on hand when Hakim walked out. I had spent most of the day running around shopping for the soon-to-be man of the house's favorite liquor, beer, food and other sundries. When everything was done, the groceries purchased, the house spotless, the snacks chilling and the bedroom fixed up like a honeymoon suite, I wandered around re-polishing things just to stay busy.

Amber hadn't told me when she planned on returning, or what time Hakim was scheduled to be released. They had left at seven in the morning, and it was a two-hour drive to the prison. I figured if he was released by noon and they stopped for lunch, even allowing for an additional hour or two they would be coming home no later than 5 or so.

But 5 o'clock came and went ... and 6 ... and 7 ...

By 9 p.m. I was really starting to worry. I contemplated phoning Amber but decided it wasn't worth running the risk of annoying her and getting bitched out.

By midnight I was panicked. I actually started to call her but hung up before it rang.

By 3 a.m., I had resigned myself to two possible explanations: They'd either had an accident, or had decided to stay somewhere overnight without bothering to call and tell me. I wasn't sure which possibility made me feel worse.

There was no getting any sleep. I tossed and turned on the couch until well past dawn, crying my eyes out, lamenting my trainwreck of a marriage to the love of my life, a woman who just wouldn't stop hurting me. The pity-party hopped into full swing and the tears flowed faster when I contemplated how the household dynamic was about to undergo a drastic change. The man who had hovered in the background throughout my entire marriage would soon be a part of my everyday life. I had no idea exactly what that was going to entail, but I knew it was going to suck even worse than the situation I was already in -- and that was pretty damned shitty as it was.

With that cheery thought, I finally was able to drift off. I slept until past 11 a.m., and then sat on the couch for nearly an hour with my phone in my hand, wondering whether I should call Amber to see if everything was okay.

I finally went upstairs to pee and shower up. While I was washing my hair, I heard the front door slam. I ducked my head under the spray, shut off the water and scrambled around drying off before throwing on my lounging pants and hurrying downstairs.

Everyone had already made it to the living room; they all looked exhausted sprawled out on the furniture. I noticed that the girls had on new Chicago-themed t-shirts, and deduced the family had spent the night partying in the Windy City while I was home cleaning and crying.

"Timmy!" Hakim boomed as I crept down the stairwell. "I'm home! Where's the red carpet?"

"And why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Amber scowled at me from her spot on the couch tucked under her man's muscular arm. "Nobody wants to see that Dumbo white fish-belly."

I bowed my head while the twins chortled and Hakim kicked back with my wife in his embrace, regarding me with a smirk.

After a few seconds, Amber threw up her hands. "Well? Go put a shirt on, Tim, and then bring everything in from the car."

"I'm thirsty; can I have him get me some juice first, Mama?" Shanice asked.

My wife nodded. "Sure, thing, baby."

Hakim pulled Amber closer. "That's a good idea, Timmy -- why don't you bring everyone a drink first? I'll take a nice, cold beer if you got one."

"He better have your beer in there." Amber glowered at me. "I told him to pick some up."

I waved my hand. "Oh, yeah, there's plenty of beer -- and I got the Hennessey you wanted, too."

"Well, shit, ain't you a sweetheart?" Hakim chuckled. "Nah, just a beer for now, Timmy."

"I'll take a wine," Amber said.

Leesa started singing: "Orange juice, orange juice, orange juice, orange juice, orange juice, orange juice."

As I turned to fetch the beverages, Amber called after me, "put on a shirt first, Tim -- nobody wants to see your flab."

"Ewwwww," the twins squealed as I trotted up the steps.