Her Ticket to Prison

After I agreed, Aunt Brenda swaggered away with Kayla.

My father looked guilty and eager to please. "Mason, don't stay angry with your aunt. She's running a big company now and always busy. When family needs help, we should do what we can."

My mother couldn't take another word. She pointed at him and shouted, "Mason prepared for this exam for an entire year. Didn't you ever notice him studying until two or three in the morning?

"The registration fee alone was more than four hundred dollars, and he earned it by delivering food after class.

"Now your wonderful cousin erased all that work with a few taps. Why didn't you make her reimburse him?"

Dad sat on the couch with his head lowered, sighing repeatedly.

Faced with Mom's shouting, he frowned and struggled for a long time before muttering, "It's only an exam. He can take it next year. If relatives destroy their relationship over one disagreement, how are we supposed to face each other later?"

"Face each other? To hell with that."

Mom shook with anger. She grabbed the gift basket Aunt Brenda had brought and shoved it in front of Dad.

"This is the gratitude your wonderful relative brought us.

"It was produced last year and expires in three days.

"She drives a luxury SUV and lives in a mansion, yet this is what she gives the man who saved her business?"

Dad's expression stiffened, but he still raised his chin defensively.

"She may have been too busy to notice. Owners of large companies don't study expiration dates. The intention matters. Stop assuming the worst about everyone.

"Mason is her own nephew. Taking Kayla to Bellhaven is nothing. He was going that way anyway."

My heart sank.

I looked at my father.

He was an honest, timid man who treated every scrap someone gave him as a blessing, yet somehow never saw what his own wife and son were swallowing.

Brenda Sawyer was my father's distant cousin.

Ten years earlier, her business collapsed, her husband threatened divorce, and creditors crowded her front door.

Dad emptied our savings and borrowed from everyone he knew to cover her losses and help her start again.

Later, Aunt Brenda caught the right market and built Sawyer Building Supply into a real company.

She visited our apartment often, speaking loudly enough for the entire building to hear.

Then she'd leave behind whatever warehouse stock was about to expire or too damaged to sell.

Dad insisted relatives shouldn't keep score. He accepted everything cheerfully and still prepared an expensive dinner whenever she visited.

"Dad."

My voice came out calm. Unnervingly calm.

"Since you think it's on the way, and since you think we owe her more than we owe ourselves—fine. I'll take her."

Mom's eyes were red when she grabbed my hand. "Mason, we don't have to accept this humiliation."

I patted her shoulder gently.

"Aunt Brenda trusts me enough to place her precious daughter in my care.

"How could I repay the kindness of that flight change without giving her something special in return?"