I never questioned it. Dad had worked hard his whole life, and if anything remained, I assumed Mom needed it. I wasn’t expecting an inheritance anyway. I had my job, my apartment, and Evan. I thought that was enough.
Everything began the Sunday before the water-park trip.
We were eating dinner at Mom’s house when Lauren announced that she was taking her children to Harbor Falls Water Park the following Saturday. Evan’s face immediately lit up.
“Can I come?”
Lauren smiled across the table. “Of course you can, buddy. We’ll pick you up at Grandma’s Saturday morning.”
Evan looked at me as if Christmas had suddenly been moved forward several months. “Really, Mom?”
I laughed. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a water-park day.”
For the next six days, he talked about almost nothing else. He watched videos of the Cyclone Drop, memorized the park map, and repeatedly asked whether he was tall enough for the biggest ride. Friday night, he carefully laid out his swimming clothes. By seven Saturday morning, he was already dressed in navy swim trunks, rubber sandals, and his bright green shark T-shirt. He had put so much sunscreen across his nose that he looked as though someone had dusted him with flour.
I packed his backpack with a towel, extra clothes, snacks, water shoes, a waterproof phone pouch, and twenty dollars. We arrived at Mom’s shortly after eight, and Evan spent the next few minutes looking through the blinds waiting for Lauren.
Then the silver minivan came around the corner.
“They’re here!”
He grabbed his backpack so quickly he almost knocked over Grandma’s umbrella stand.
I smiled.
Later, I would wish I could return to that exact moment and warn both of us.
Lauren’s van had eight seats. Lauren drove. Mom climbed into the front passenger seat. Chloe and Ben sat in the middle row, and Noah sat by himself in the back.
Three seats were empty.
Evan immediately pointed toward Noah. “I’ll sit next to him!”
Lauren got out and opened the rear hatch. Inside were a cooler, two tote bags, towels, a folding chair, and a ridiculous half-inflated crocodile float.
“Aunt Lauren, should I put my backpack back there?” Evan asked.
She barely looked at him.
“Actually, honey, you can’t come with us. There isn’t enough room.”
Evan stopped moving.
I stared at my sister. “What?”
“We need the extra space for our things.”
I looked through the open sliding door at the three clearly empty seats. “Lauren, there are three empty seats.”
She sighed. “Natalie, please don’t start.”
“Start what? You invited Evan.”
“And I just told you there’s no room.”
“For what?”
