They Gave Me a Burial Shroud for My Birthday

1: 1

On the morning of my sixtieth birthday, my daughter-in-law told me she'd prepared a big gift for me.

"To thank you, Mom, for all the help over the years. Ever since I married into the Lambert family, I've never had a single worry."

Hearing her say that, I felt everything I'd given had been worth it.

Looking at the beautiful gift box, I said what was really in my heart. "Just hearing that from you is enough, dear. This gift looks expensive—take it back, or bring it to your own mother."

Right there in front of everyone, Celeste Fox turned on me.

"You old hag, my mother is perfectly fine. Who exactly are you cursing?"

She swung her hand and slapped me across the face.

The motion was so violent it knocked the box over, and a burial shroud spilled out.

1

Walter Abbott was quick on his feet and kicked the shroud out of the private room, but I'd already seen it clearly.

Even holding my emotions back, I was shaking with anger.

After a long moment to steady myself, I called my son, who was on his way over.

"Curtis Lambert, are you late on purpose today?"

He gave a dry little laugh.

"If you don't get here soon, your wife is going to bring the roof down—"

Before I could finish, he cut me off. "Almost there."

Walter saw what was happening and grabbed the phone. "Curtis, if you're not here in five minutes, I'll pretend I never had a son!"

He finished shouting and hung up.

Once I came back to myself, I understood the way Curtis had dodged the real question. He clearly knew all about it.

Once that sank in, most of my anger drained away.

Celeste, my daughter-in-law, folded her arms across her chest and looked coldly at Walter and me.

"You can't blame Curtis for this."

"The kids are all grown and married now. Your focus should be on your son."

"You feed and clothe your daughter's whole family day in and day out. You think your own flesh-and-blood son wouldn't feel hurt by that?"

Now that Celeste had said what she really thought, I decided to explain after all.

I said, "There was an accident. My son-in-law died. He left behind two children still too young to fend for themselves. My daughter couldn't put food on the table. Were her father and I supposed to just watch the three of them starve to death?"

"And we've helped you two plenty. What little money we gave her wouldn't even cover half a month of your fancy tonics."

Sure enough, Celeste's face fell.

In all the years they'd been married, every expense had come out of my pocket and Walter's. They never paid a cent toward living costs, never mind that they were two more mouths to feed. Even the car loan I'd been paying off with my pension.

For the last six months, the young couple had been trying for a baby, and the supplements and health products came out of my pension too.

The few hundred dollars I slipped my daughter now and then loomed in their eyes as big as a mountain.

Celeste said with a cold smile, "There's no need to get so worked up over it. Your son doesn't have money, so he was just trying to save a little and bought a burial shroud by mistake. It's not like he did it on purpose."

Her words were like a stone lodged hard in my chest. Even though I'd already warned myself not to get angry, I felt my chest clench, and I nearly couldn't catch my breath.

"Mom, if you took better care of us day to day, you wouldn't be having a simple meal in a place like this. Curtis and I would have thrown you a proper, grand celebration."

Every word out of Celeste was a complaint, but all I felt was the urge to laugh.

This birthday dinner had been booked by my daughter. Not only did Celeste contribute nothing but her mouth, she'd bought me a burial shroud.

Even if we did help my daughter out, that hardly made us monsters beyond forgiveness!

I didn't want to keep fighting. I drew in a deep breath. "The palm and the back of the hand are both my own flesh—"

"Mom, blood is blood and outsiders are outsiders. Can't you tell the difference?"

Faced with Celeste's accusation, I couldn't help letting out a cold laugh.

Walter was a blunt man who couldn't stand to let anything slide, and he fired back.

"Who's blood, and who's the outsider?"

Afraid he'd blurt out the secret we'd buried for years, I quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

"You're both our own children. There are no outsiders here!"