Page 75 of The Surprise

“Then what’s Dad’s excuse?” The second I say the words, I wish I could take them back.

But I can’t.

It’s too late.

Dad slams his wine glass down, the red liquid sloshing over the side. “Here.” He stands up and yanks out his wallet. “Here’s what you really want from me.” He throws a wad of bills down on the table and storms off.

My family has never been like the Brooks. I don’t expect it. But that feels like a slap in the face.

“He’s had a rough week,” Mom says. “Don’t be too mad at him.”

“He has?” Maybe I’m as guilty as they are, if I don’t pay enough attention to know he’s struggling.

“Your aunt is being. . .difficult,” Mom says.

“Wait, Aunt Donna is?” That’s a surprise. She’s really, really awesome. Probably my best family member, now that Grandma’s dead. “What’s she doing?”

“Well, you know she made a deal when she went off to school. She told your grandpa that if he paid for her school, she didn’t want an inheritance. She lived like a queen up there, and thanks to your grandpa sending her copious amounts of money, she caught a husband at Stanford from a rich family.”

I can’t help quirking a brow. “You mean the guy she just divorced?”

Mom sighs. “Well, now she’s trying to say that she should get some of your father’s parents’ estate.”

“She’s trying to take the ranch?” That surprises me.

“Not the ranch, no,” Mom says, “but the life insurance proceeds.”

“Wait, you think Dad should get the ranch, the money from it, and all the life insurance? Shouldn’t she getanything?”

“I told you.” Mom sounds annoyed. “She made a deal.”

“Still, she made that deal when she was, what? Eighteen?” It hits me then. She made some kind of deal with her dad when she wasmy ageand my parents want to hold her to it?

I stand up. “I think Dad’s probably being the jerk.” I wipe my mouth and throw my napkin on the counter, ignoring the wad of money Dad threw at me.

If he treats his own daughter like that on her birthday, how can I trust that he’s being fair to Aunt Donna?

“You owe him an apology.”

“I do not,” I say. “You guys didn’t tell me to be here at any particular time.” A red-hot flash of indignance shoots through me, out of nowhere. “It was my birthday, but Dad just grunted this morning when I left. I didn’t think he even knew.”

“You’re his only daughter,” Mom says.

“I used to wish for a brother or sister, but now that I’m older, I’m glad you didn’t have any more. I’d have to feel even sorrier for them than I do for myself.”

Mom looks like I smacked her, and I feel a little bad. I probably went a little too far.

“How dare you,” my dad says from the doorway into his room. “Howdare youspeak to your mother like that?”

Something slams into the wall behind my head and shatters.

It reminds me of the last time, and I shudder.

“Patrick,” Mom says, “that’s too much.”

“She never said where she was.” Dad’s scowling. “I think she should tell us why we had to wait.”

I shouldn’t say it. I should keep my mouth shut. But I’m tired of being the only one who does what she should do while my parents behave like spoiled children. Even Maren’s not as bad as they are. “I was at Abigail Brooks’ house, where the parents like the children and they never throw things at their head.” I set my jaw.

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