2: 2
Hearing that, my grip on the hem of my shirt tightened.
Why was it that one offhand remark from Greg, that the tonic smelled like it cost less than fifty dollars, was enough for Grandma and my father to believe him completely?
Why was it always like this, for as long as I could remember?
A few careless words from Greg, and Grandma was happy, and she believed him.
But no matter what I did, in Grandma's eyes it was always wrong.
The whole time she'd been in the hospital, I was the one who took time off work to stay by her side and care for her.
Every day she'd scowl and say she didn't want to see me, yet when it came to asking things of me and spending my money, she never hesitated for a second.
Greg came by the hospital once when he had a spare moment, stayed less than two minutes, walked off with two thousand dollars from her hand, and she was moved beyond words.
She went around the ward bragging to everyone about how devoted and considerate her grandson was.
The people at the hospital weren't fools. They knew it was me who stayed with Grandma, me who took care of her.
Someone spoke up about it on my behalf, and all it earned me was Grandma's cursing for no reason.
This time, for the herbs, my father hadn't given me a cent either. I'd paid out of my own pocket for the best, most expensive tonic for Grandma, and this was how they treated me.
When my mother was still alive, there was at least someone to shield me, someone to speak up for me.
But now she was gone, and there was no one left in this family who would say a word for me.
Looking at this happy, harmonious little family in front of me, I suddenly felt tired to the bone.
It seemed that no matter how much I gave, no matter how obedient and good I was, the family who shared my name would never accept me.
2.
My father joined Grandma in shouting me down.
"You've got a rotten heart! Your grandma's been so good to you—who on earth taught you to poison your own grandmother like this?"
"You must have cursed your own mother to death too! When I get old, are you going to poison me along with her, just for the inheritance?"
"No, I didn't—" I never once thought about hurting anyone.
Before I could finish, Greg cut me off, urgent.
"Grandma, my little cousin is still young and doesn't know any better. Leave the herbs to me. Three hundred dollars, and I guarantee you'll be healthy and live to a hundred!"
"Don't be angry anymore. Say what you will, she's still blood of the Dickerson family. We can correct her slowly, guide her back onto the right path."
Grandma smiled and handed her pension card to Greg. "All right. It's still my good grandson who's thoughtful and knows how to care for me. Whatever's left after buying the medicine, you keep it and spend it!"
"You're the one who understands things best, always so understanding. If your cousin had even half your sense, this family would be happy and harmonious. It wouldn't be like now, with the whole house full of bad blood."
I couldn't stand this browbeating a moment longer.
With one sweep of my arm, I sent everything on the coffee table flying at them.
"Enough! If he were really so devoted and dutiful, he wouldn't have taken two thousand dollars from you while you were sick! You mean you can't hear how everyone at the hospital talks about your favoritism?"
"If he really has it in him to get you a tonic just as good as mine for three hundred, then I'll have nothing more to say. But if he can't, then remember, he owes me an apology!"
It was the first time I'd ever dared to talk to them like that, and for a moment they were stunned.
I didn't wait for them to react. I got up, picked up the herbs, and went back to my own bedroom.
I'd paid for those herbs with my own money, so there was no way I'd let them have them for free.
Anyway, no matter what I said, Grandma would never believe me. It would only make her more resentful, and my father wouldn't care about me either.
If that was how it was, then there was no reason for me to keep swallowing my pride in this family.
