Not one asked whether I was eating.
They only wanted to know what would happen to the money.
That night, I sat in Margaret’s chair and looked at an old photograph of us.
We were in our 20s, standing beside a borrowed car.
Margaret’s hair was blowing across her face, and I had one arm around her waist.
She had always laughed at my love of beautiful cars.
Whenever a classic luxury car passed us, I slowed down to admire it.
“One day, Harold,” she would say. “Maybe when we’re young and reckless again.”
We never became reckless.
There was always a bill to pay, a roof to fix, or a child who needed something.
So one Tuesday morning, I called my bank.
Then I called a dealership.
I had always admired classic luxury cars, but Margaret and I had never allowed ourselves to buy one.
I couldn’t make us young again.
But I could be reckless.
I bought the most beautiful car I had ever seen.
It was far more expensive than anything I had owned in my life.
I paid for it outright, added every feature I wanted, and used a large portion of the remaining money to book trips Margaret and I had always postponed.
For the first time in decades, I spent our savings on myself.
The news reached my children before the car had even been delivered.
That Saturday, all three of them stormed into my house.
Phoebe was crying.
Graham called the purchase irresponsible.
Julian demanded to know whether I was losing my mind.
“You spent our inheritance on a car?” Julian shouted.
I stared at him.
“Your inheritance?”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “That money was supposed to come to us. Mom would never have agreed to this.”
That was the moment I finally lost my patience.
They were standing in my house, speaking about my money as though I had already died.
I slowly stood from my chair and looked at each of them.
“Your mother would never have agreed to this?” I repeated.
The room went silent.
Then I walked to the cabinet where I had hidden the one thing I brought home from Margaret’s funeral.
I placed it on the table in front of them.
“If you cared so much about what your mother wanted,” I said, “then explain why the three of you did THIS beside her coffin.”
