Mrs. Hill, Dad’s lawyer, began reading the will. Most of Dad’s assets were to be split evenly between us.
Then she paused, looking directly at me. “The family home is to be left solely to Joseph.”
Kyle’s head snapped up. “What?”
Mrs.
Hill continued, “Your father, William, specifically stated that the house should go to Joseph, in recognition of his care and dedication during his illness.”
I could feel Kyle’s eyes boring into me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the lawyer. “Furthermore,” she added, “William left a substantial sum for renovations to the house, with specific instructions for its use.”
As we left the office, Kyle grabbed my arm. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.
I watched him storm off, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew this was far from over. A week later, Kyle showed up at my farmhouse, unannounced and seething.
“You manipulated him,” he accused, pushing past me into the living room. I closed the door, taking a deep breath. “Hello to you too, Kyle.”
He whirled on me, clenching his fist.
“Don’t play innocent, Joe. You were with Dad, whispering in his ear, while I was out building a life for myself.”
“Building a life? Is that what you call abandoning your family?”
“I had opportunities, Joe.
Big ones. Dad understood that.”
“Did he? Because I don’t remember him understanding why his oldest son couldn’t bother to call, let alone visit when he was dying.”
Kyle flinched but pressed on.
“Dad must’ve made a mistake. The house should be mine. I’m the oldest.
It’s tradition.”
I laughed. “Tradition? Since when do you care about tradition?”
“I’m serious, Joe.
Give me the house, or I’ll take you to court. I’ll drag this out until you’re drowning in legal fees.”
I studied my brother, this stranger wearing familiar features. Part of me wanted to fight and scream at him for his selfishness.
But another part, a part that sounded suspiciously like Dad, whispered a different idea. “Fine. You want the house?
It’s yours.”
Kyle blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”
“I’ll sign it over to you. No strings attached.”
Suspicion clouded his face.
“Just like that?”
I nodded, already reaching for the paperwork Mrs. Hill had left with me. “Just like that.
Consider it yours, brother.”
With a heavy heart and trembling fingers, I signed away Dad’s legacy. The keys felt cold and accusing in my palm as I dropped them into Kyle’s eager hand. As Kyle strutted out, victory gleaming in his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile.
He had no idea about the whirlwind he was walking into. “Joe,” Mrs. Hill said when I told her everything.
“you realize this is madness, right? You don’t have to give in to your brother’s demands.”
“I know, Mrs. Hill.
But sometimes you have to lose to win. And sometimes, lessons come in unexpected packages.”
The next morning, my phone rang at an ungodly hour. Kyle’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice still thick with sleep. “What the hell did you do?” Kyle’s voice was a mix of panic and rage. I sat up, fully awake now.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb! The house! It’s…
it’s…”
“It’s what, Kyle?”
“It’s a freaking circus!” he exploded. “There are slides in the living room! The bedroom is full of toys!
Every room looks like it threw up a rainbow!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, that. Yeah, Dad and I had been working on a little project.”
“Little project?
This isn’t a house anymore. It’s a damn daycare!”
“Actually,” I said, unable to keep the joy out of my voice, “it’s more of a community center for the local orphanage.”
“What are you talking about?”
I settled back against my pillows, enjoying this more than I probably should. “Well, you see, Dad always wanted to give back to the community.
We came up with this plan to turn the house into a safe space for kids who don’t have anyone looking out for them. Indoor swings, ball pits, inflatable castles, art stations… the works.”
“You can’t be serious,” Kyle growled.
“Oh, I am, brother! And the best part? It’s all in Dad’s will.
The new owner — that’s you now — is legally obligated to maintain it as is and complete the renovations.”
“Renovations?” Kyle’s voice rose to a squeak. “Yep. Remember how Dad loved that candy house from Hansel and Gretel?
Well, starting next week, the house exterior is getting a makeover. Candy canes, gumdrops, the works. And guess who’s footing the bill?”
The silence on the other end was deafening.
“You knew,” Kyle finally said, his voice brimming with awe and fury. “You knew all this when you gave me the house.”
“I did! Consider it a lesson in being careful what you wish for.”
“Joe, please.
You have to take it back. I can’t do this.”
For a moment, I was tempted. But then I remembered all the times Kyle had turned his back on us, all the lonely nights Dad had spent wondering why his eldest son didn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Kyle,” I said, not feeling sorry at all. “But you wanted the house. It’s yours now, with all its responsibilities.
Maybe spending time with those kids will teach you something about family.”
“But the money,” Kyle protested weakly. “I can’t afford all this. I want the money Dad left in his will.”
“The money Dad left for the renovations?” I laughed.
“I’m donating it to the orphanage. They need it more than either of us.”
As Kyle’s pleas turned to sobs, my heart lightened. “Joe, you don’t understand.
My company isn’t doing well. I needed this house as collateral for a loan. I thought I could fix everything.”
“Oh, why didn’t you just ask for help?”
“Because I’m supposed to be the successful one!” he shouted, then his voice dropped to a whisper.
“I couldn’t admit I was failing.”
For a moment, I saw the brother I used to know — scared, vulnerable, human. But I also remembered the years of neglect and the pain in Dad’s eyes every time Kyle missed a holiday or birthday. “Listen, Kyle, I can’t take the house back.
But maybe we can figure something out. Come over tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
There was a long pause before Kyle responded, his voice barely audible.
“Okay. Thank you, Joe.”
As I hung up, I looked around my small farmhouse. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.
And somewhere out there, a group of kids were about to get the playhouse of their dreams. Dad would have loved that. I smiled, thinking of the conversation ahead with Kyle.
It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe, we could start rebuilding our family. After all, that’s what Dad would have wanted. And really, that was all that mattered.
