Gerald and I invited Danielle and Brandon over to share good news. Months of appointments, tests, and waiting rooms had worn us thin. Our doctor told us to take a short rest, so we booked a modest hotel a few states away: a quiet room, a small pool, ordinary restaurants. I set the pictures on the dining table and expected them to be glad. Danielle barely looked. You cannot keep spending our inheritance like this, she said. That money does not affect only you. What you spend now is money we will not inherit later.

Brandon agreed. Do you really need another trip. Most people your age stay home. At this rate nothing will be left when you are gone. They sat at our table and discussed our deaths like an account. We had built the house, saved the retirement funds, and painted the rental on weekends. We paid tuition, weddings, down payments, emergency bills, and loans that became gifts. We never asked for repayment. Gerald pressed my hand under the table and smiled calmly. Maybe you are both right, he said. We need to make better arrangements. They left looking pleased, as if they had corrected us.