I Raised Him for 12 Years; He Sends Me His Wedding Bill

I stared at my wife, Evelyn Larson, eyes wide with disbelief.

On the table lay an agreement. In black and white, it read, "I, Lawrence Zimmerman, am giving 700 thousand dollars to Maxwell Larson, and I will never take it back."

Maxwell's signature was already scrawled at the bottom. Mine was the only one missing.

"You had this ready all along?" I questioned, staring at Evelyn.

She avoided my gaze and said, "Max is my sister's only son. His wedding is a huge deal. We have to help."

Maxwell grinned from ear to ear as he slid the paper toward me. "Uncle Lawrence, just sign it. We'll still be family."

I looked at the agreement, then at the relatives around the table. Evelyn's siblings and cousins kept their heads down, eating in silence.

The steam from the simmering stew stung my eyes.

Maxwell had come to live with us at ten, after his mother died and his father vanished. I had raised him for 12 years, never skimping on tuition or living expenses.

When he failed college courses, I pulled strings to keep him afloat. When he needed a job, I made the calls. I even paid 40 thousand dollars toward the down payment on his house.

I never expected him to be grateful, but I hadn't imagined this either.

"I'm not signing this," I said in a low voice.

All at once, the air turned thick with tension.

My mother-in-law, Lucy Jones, set down her fork, and her expression darkened. "Lawrence, what do you mean? Max is the only grandson in the Larson family! His wedding is a huge deal! You're his uncle, and you won't even chip in?"

"Mom, it's not that I don't want to help," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. "Three months ago, I covered the down payment for his house. And now, he wants another 700 thousand dollars as a gift?

"I'm strapped for cash. Besides, Tiffany is getting married next spring. Her in-laws are—"

"Tiffany, Tiffany! All you ever care about is your daughter!"

Maxwell shot to his feet, jabbing a finger in my face. "Lawrence, you've raised me for years! Now that I'm getting married, you won't give me a cent? You're playing favorites! I want that money today, got it?"

Beside me, Evelyn tugged at my sleeve. Her voice was low, but each word cut deep.

"Lawrence, don't be foolish. Once Tiffany is married, she'll belong to another family. That money would just benefit them. Max is the one who keeps the family line alive. You have to listen to him."

At that, I turned to her. Decades of marriage, yet she seemed like a stranger now.

"Evelyn, Tiffany is your daughter!" I snapped.

She avoided my gaze, her tone unapologetically firm as she shot back, "I know she is, but one day, she'll be part of another family. Max is the one who carries on our name."

Maxwell waved the agreement in triumph. "Hear that? Aunt Evely said it! Sign it now, and we're still family.

"When you're old, I might still put food in front of you because of this money. Otherwise, don't expect me to take care of you!"