Chapter 2: The $4,000 Handbag
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The pink frosting spread across the patio stones while the candles continued burning in the empty cake stand.
Ashley held her cheek and glared at me.
“You hit me,” she said.
“In front of everyone.””
“Yes,” I replied, my voice shaking.
“And you deliberately destroyed something that meant a great deal to me.””
“You're unbelievable!””
“You could have apologized.””
“For what? An accident?””
“You were laughing before the cake even stopped falling.””
Ashley opened her mouth, but my brother Daniel stepped forward.
“She has a point, Ashley.””
Ashley spun toward him.
“Stay out of this!””
“It's my sister's birthday,” Daniel said.
“You humiliated her in front of everybody.””
“Because she can't take a joke?””
Patricia shook her head.
“Darling, that wasn't a joke. That was cruel.””
Ashley looked around at the relatives who had once rushed to greet her.
Their faces had changed.
She wasn't accustomed to being challenged by an audience.
Then she turned to Robert.
“Dad, are you seriously going to let them talk to me like this?””
Robert placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Everyone needs to calm down.””
“Calm down?”” Ashley shrieked.
“She just hit me!””
“And you knocked over her cake,” Daniel replied.
Robert shot him an angry look.
“That's enough, Daniel.””
I watched my husband defend his daughter again, and something cold settled inside me.
He hadn't asked whether I was hurt.
He hadn't looked at the ruined cake.
He hadn't even acknowledged that Ashley had spent the afternoon insulting me.
His only concern was stopping the argument.
As if my pain were an inconvenience.
I took a slow breath.
“Fine,” I said.
Ashley gave a triumphant little laugh.
“Finally.””
I turned toward the outdoor fireplace.
The flames had been burning since early afternoon, fed by the oak logs Robert had stacked beside it. Near the fireplace sat Ashley's white designer handbag, which she had abandoned when everyone gathered for the birthday song.
She followed my gaze.
“Don't even think about touching my bag.””
I walked toward it.
“Margaret,” Robert warned.
I picked up the handbag.
Ashley lunged forward.
“I said don't touch it!””
I stepped out of reach.
“Put it down!”” she screamed.
“That bag cost four thousand dollars!””
I looked at the expensive leather, the gleaming metal clasp, and the carefully wrapped handles.
Then I looked at the cake smashed across the patio.
“You think money is the only thing that matters,” I said quietly.
Ashley reached for the bag again.
“Give it back!””
I threw it into the open flames.
For a heartbeat, the entire backyard froze.
Then Ashley screamed.
“NO!””
She rushed toward the fireplace, but Robert caught her around the waist.
“Are you out of your mind?”” he shouted at me.
The handbag landed between the burning logs. Its white leather began to darken, and a bitter smell drifted through the air.
Ashley fought against her father's grip.
“My bag! My actual designer bag!””
“Stay back!”” Robert ordered.
“You bought it for me!”” she screamed at him.
“You said I deserved it!””
That sentence caught my attention.
Robert had bought her the bag?
With what money?
I had assumed she had purchased it herself, given how proudly she had described her new job at a marketing company.
But before I could ask, Ashley began sobbing.
“Four thousand dollars! Do you know how much that is?””
I met her furious gaze.
“And do you know what my mother's cake was worth to me?””
“It's cake!””
“It was the last birthday tradition I had with her.””
For the first time that afternoon, Ashley's expression faltered.
Only briefly.
Then she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
“You're a bitter old woman. You can't stand that Dad loves me.””
Robert released her and turned toward me.
“Margaret, you've gone too far.””
I almost laughed.
“Your daughter spent hours insulting me, destroyed my birthday cake, and called me an old lady in my own backyard. Yet somehow, I'm the only person who has gone too far?””
“You slapped her and destroyed her property!””
“Then she can apologize and pay for the cake.””
Ashley stopped crying.
She stared at me as if I had just suggested selling her organs.
“Excuse me?””
“You heard me. Apologize sincerely, and compensate me for the ingredients and decorations.””
She looked at Robert.
Then she laughed.
A strange, confident laugh that made the hairs on my arms rise.
“Compensate you?”” she repeated.
“Margaret, you really think you can threaten me?””
“I think you should take responsibility for what you've done.””
Ashley straightened her dress.
“Dad already promised me this house.””
The words landed harder than the slap I had given her.
Behind me, someone whispered, “What?””
Daniel's expression hardened.
Robert went completely still.
I turned toward my husband.
“What did she just say?””
Ashley smiled.
It wasn't the smile of someone who had accidentally revealed a secret.
It was the smile of someone who had decided the secret no longer needed to stay hidden.
“Why bother pretending?”” she said.
“Dad told me everything. You're sixty-five. You don't need a five-bedroom house.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Robert?””
He glanced at the relatives, then lowered his voice.
“Margaret, we can discuss this privately.””
“No. We're discussing it now.””
“Please don't make a scene.””
I stared at him.
“Your daughter just announced that you promised her my house.””
Robert's jaw tightened.
“That's not exactly what happened.””
Ashley folded her arms.
“Oh, stop lying, Dad. You said once the paperwork was finished, I could move in before Christmas.””
A sharp murmur passed through the guests.
Patricia covered her mouth.
Daniel stepped toward Robert.
“What paperwork?””
Robert didn't answer.
Instead, he took me gently by the elbow.
“Come inside, sweetheart.””
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me until you tell me what is going on.””
For fifteen years, I had trusted this man with my heart, my home, and every vulnerable part of my life.
Now his daughter was standing beside a burning handbag, announcing that my home would soon belong to her.
And my husband looked less shocked by her confession than he did by my reaction.
I walked into the house.
Robert followed, calling my name.
I ignored him and went straight to my home office.
The safe was hidden behind a framed photograph of my mother and me, taken on the porch of her little brick house when I was thirty.
My fingers trembled as I entered the combination.
The safe door swung open.
Inside were old tax returns, insurance papers, my mother's trust records, and the property folder I had kept untouched for fifteen years.
Or at least, it should have been there.
The folder was gone.
I checked the lower shelf.
Then the back corner.
Then the locked compartment where I kept the original deed.
Nothing.
Robert appeared in the doorway.
“Margaret, listen to me.””
I turned slowly.
“Where are my property documents?””
He looked at the open safe.
For a moment, his face became so pale that I barely recognized him.
“Margaret, please,” he whispered.
“Don't jump to conclusions.””
I stepped toward him.
“Where are they, Robert?””
He opened his mouth.
But before he could answer, Ashley appeared behind him.
She was no longer crying.
She was smiling.
“Oh, those?”” she said.
“Dad gave them to my attorney last week.””
My knees nearly buckled.
“Your attorney?””
Ashley nodded.
“The one helping us transfer the house into my name.””
I stared at my husband.
He looked down at the floor.
And that was when I understood.
May you like
The birthday cake hadn't been the beginning of this betrayal.
It had simply been the first thing they no longer bothered to hide.
