Chapter 8 - The Aftermath
We spent the weekend setting up Theo’s trust.
It was named *The Theodore Vance-Miller Medical and Educational Trust*, with Greg and Aaron listed as co-trustees. Evelyn was legally barred from ever accessing the funds, inquiring about the balance, or claiming any tax deduction associated with the reimbursement.
On Sunday morning, for the first time in seven years, our house felt entirely light.
There were no passive-aggressive texts. There were no requests to host Sunday dinners that Mallory was supposed to cook. There was no dread about whether Theo’s achievements would be eclipsed by some manufactured emergency from my sister.
At ten o’clock, our doorbell rang.
Aaron and I exchanged a wary look. Theo was in the living room, building an elaborate space station out of magnetic tiles.
Aaron walked to the door, peeked through the curtain, and then turned back to me with a surprised expression. "It’s your dad."
I hurried to the entryway.
Dad was standing on the porch holding a large cardboard box. He looked older than he had on Theo's birthday—there were deep gray shadows under his eyes, and his shoulders were rounded—but his eyes were clear.
"Dad," I said, opening the door wide. "Come in."
"I don't want to intrude," he said, shifting the box in his arms. "I just... I found some things while I was clearing out the garage."
He walked into the kitchen and set the box on the island.
Inside were dozens of blue, silver, and gold decorations: the unopened packages of rocket plates, the astronaut napkins, the little plastic space shuttles I had bought for Theo's party favors that had mysteriously "gone missing" from Mom's house before the guests arrived.
"She hid them in the trunk of her car," Dad said quietly. "She had them tucked under the spare tire cover so she could claim you forgot to bring them."
Aaron stood by the sink, shaking his head in quiet disgust. "She really planned it all out, didn't she?"
"Every detail," Dad said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, velvet jeweler's box, worn at the edges. "And this is for Theo. It was my father's pocket watch from the Pennsylvania Railroad. I was going to leave it in the will, but... I think Commander Theo should have it now."
Theo wandered into the kitchen, his magnetic rocket clutched in one hand. "Grandpa?"
Dad knelt down on his creaky knees, his face softening into the first real smile I had seen on him in years. "Hey there, buddy. Happy seventh birthday."
"Did you come to see my space station?" Theo asked.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Dad said, his voice thick with emotion.
As the two of them sat on the living room rug, Dad showing Theo how the winding mechanism made the second hand sweep across the dial, my phone buzzed on the counter.
It was a notification from the church bulletin app.
*First Baptist Community Announcement:*
*Sister Evelyn Vance has stepped down from her position as Director of the Women’s Hospitality Committee due to personal family matters. Please keep the Vance family in your prayers during this season of transition.*
Beneath it was a single comment from Sarah Lin:
*“The truth shall make you free. John 8:32.”*
May you like
I smiled, picked up my phone, and turned it completely off.
***