Days 17 and 18 – Writing exercise
On your 18th birthday celebration, eating out with parents and brothers and sisters, your youngest sister blurts, “You do know you’re adopted.”
…
I had always been last for everything. I had three elder brothers and two elder sisters, and then there was me, tail end Charlie, my father called me, a name I didn’t quite understand.
I thought it was because there were six years between me and the older siblings.
My brothers went to the best school, all three excelling in their studies and after high school, college and university. My sisters went to the same school my mother attended, and college, but then chose marriage and children over a career.
Me, I attended grade school, middle school, high school, and had moderate success, but there was never any suggestion that I go to college.
It seemed that as the last one, I had not inherited the smarts of my other siblings and that the farming job I had with the Renfrews, out on the road to Weston, was good enough.
I barely graduated high school, and was discouraged from going to the prom, perhaps because I did not have a girl I could ask, though I suspected my siblings had ruined any chance I might have had with the one I thought would agree.
It was what it was, though I could never understand why they apparently disliked me so much. It was not overtime, but from about the time I turned ten, I began to notice a distinct separation, like I was not one of the family.
I didn’t complain.
But now, school over and prom gone, it was my 18th birthday, and I was heading into town to the family party. Not the lavish affairs that were thrown at the country club for my siblings, with practically the whole town attending, this was just a quiet meal.
Again, it wasn’t a big deal. I heard my parents talking about it one night when they thought everyone had gone to bed or was away.
The hushed voices in the main room.
“It’s not as if we can’t afford it, and he is a member of this family.”
“And if your sister…”
“What? Thrown herself at you, and you couldn’t…”
“I think I’ve more than made up for that indiscretion a hundred times over.”
“But it’s never been the same, second best, if he was lucky.”
“You know why.”
“Well, it’s wrong.”
“He’s lucky he has a home, people who care enough. Your sister, God rest her soul, was never going to cope. He’ll be moving on once Renfrew makes his job permanent, and that’ll be the end of it. God knows we’ve paid him enough.”
It was a conversation that made no sense. I had no idea that my mother had a sister, not one that was referred to in those terms.
The Renfrews had always employed me on and on over the years, but I thought I had got that job on my own merits. Perhaps then I hadn’t, but it was not a question I was going to ask
My father had been irritable of late and not well disposed towards me, and the siblings that remained at the home had taken less interest in me since the eldest John had got married and left to work in New York.
About the time he left, six years ago, things changed. I had seriously believed that the family thought I had driven him away. Certainly, on several occasions, by the youngest sister, she had insisted that I was causing unnecessary problems between ‘her’ parents.
Were they not mine too?
But the day arrived. I was in town with one of the few friends I had from school, and had agreed to join them at a particular time.
When I got there, they had all arrived and had already ordered. It was like they had decided that I was almost irrelevant.
At least there was a seat next to my mother.
She seemed to be the only one who cared whether I was there. The others were arguing over what they were getting and the merits of besting each other with the most expensive dishes.
I was never that lucky and rarely got to choose. The others would say that, as the youngest, I should be having the children’s meal. Even when I got older, it was a running joke, one that neither parent stopped.
But today I was 18. At the same time, my older brother got the keys to a new car, and a wad of money. The same sort of gifts flowed down through the others.
I had expected the same, but that morning, there was a card with seven names scrawled on it, without any well-wishes or anything. There was definitely no money, and had I been expecting a pleasant surprise now, I honestly believed that that ship had sailed
Perhaps they no longer had the money, certainly they no longer bragged about how well off they were, and the last time John was home, I had heard him asking for money, and my father telling him things were tight.
So, no car and no money. And by the look of it, no present. Of course, when the food came out, I could see that no expense had been spared for them.
It was going to be just like I had been told it would.
…
A question that I never thought would enter my head when old man Renfrew handed me a small boat wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with common garden twine.
Underneath the twine was an envelope with my name on it and the words “For your 18th birthday”. When I asked him who it was from, he simply said it was on the front porch when he came home.
That was two days before my birthday.
Inside the envelope was a card, but mysteriously, it didn’t say who it was from, and a letter in an envelope that looked quite old and yellowing at the edges. My name was written on it in rather exquisite lettering, Aloysius Charles William Henry.
What did that mean? Was my last name Henry? I didn’t think so.
Under my name was, ‘Do not open this until after your 18th family birthday party’.
I was curious, and had I not exercised the patience my mother had tried to teach the rest of her children, I might have torn the envelope open in the hope of finding a large cash reward or a loaded credit card.
It’s what seemed to motivate the other siblings.
I guess inadvertently, my parents had taught me all the virtues of patience and no expectation, but by all the wrong methods.
I then asked Mrs Refrew, who was less grumpy than her husband, and I knew she recognised the writing, and quite possibly who it was from, but she said that the good Lord had his reasons, and patience was a virtue.
So, without the benefit of whatever sage advise or revelations that lay within that envelope, I went, with a promise to myself that I would not show any emotion because I had reached the conclusion that there was something in my past that had been covered up or omitted, and that best guess, my father or mother had had an affair and I was the product of it.
It was the only explanation for my treatment over the years and the change in the way my siblings treated me, at least from six years ago. That was when they must have told them, the last of their children turning 18.
The youngest sister, still unmarried and prone to having bad relationships and bouts of drug addiction, was currently clean and had been for nearly a year, and this party was more about her achievement than my birthday.
As a reward the had given her a multi-thousand-dollar gift card. I had seen it as a put-down, and I think it was deliberate on her part just to put me in my place. I simply smiled, which seemed to annoy her.
In her sickly sweet voice, she said, “I hope you’re having a wonderful birthday.”
“Every bit as much as your year of sobriety, Anna. At least I won’t be having another 18th Birthday.”
OK. I didn’t mean to be that harsh, but I was human after all.
The dulcet tones turned into her angry squeak. “What do you mean by that?”
The table went quiet, and all eyes were on me. I’d just attacked one of their own, and the pack mentality came out. Hyenas circling the dying animal.
“Three times now. And given your choice in bad boys, I expect we’ll be back here next year. You’re only 18 once. Thankfully.”
“You’re an ass, Charlie. You do know you’re adopted and you’re not one of us. You don’t even deserve to sit at this table.”
My so-called mother looked horrified. My so-called father and the rest of them looked smug.
What were they expecting? For me to turn into a blubbing mess so they could laugh at me.
“That was uncalled for, Anna.”
“It’s true. Why did you bother wasting your time? I hope he’s not getting anything in your wills. He’s not even family.”
Then I saw something I had never seen before in my life. My so-called mother was angry.
“It depends on your definition of family, and unfortunately, no one in this family ever taught you the meaning of it.” She turned to her husband. “You promised.”
“They deserved to know.”
“Do you remember what I said back when you made that promise?”
“God, woman, that was 18 years ago. Who cares?”
“You will. And every one of these spawn of the devil you’ve created. You know who I am. You know what I gave up. Well, I suspected you had betrayed me, so I took the appropriate steps.”
She stood and looked down at me with moist eyes. She was genuinely ashamed. “Charlie. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I was going to tell you the truth tonight. Well, it seems that time has arrived early.” Then she looked around at the sea of astonished faces. “In what you might all call a cruel twist of fate, you are all now going to pay for your father’s sins. No more money, no more handouts.” Then to her husband. “Start looking for a job. You’re going to need one.”
“Seriously, Martha, all this over a bastard son of a prostitute?”
I saw a small shudder going through her and the clenching and unclenching of fists. She was beyond angry now, and the look on her face was one of pure hatred and disgust.
“You forget one important detail. She was a prostitute who had a three-hundred-million-dollar inheritance, which she left to me to look after her son. You have all benefited. I’m willing to bet he did not tell you about the conditions that came with the benefits.”
“Anna was the one who blabbed. None of us. We’re not at fault.” John was in full panic mode, seeing his never-ending well dry up before his eyes.
She glared at him. “You sat back and laughed along with the rest of them. You are the eldest, supposed to set an example. Of what, greed, and ambivalence. All of you had a chance to prove yourselves, and you missed it. One chance. You are all cut off; there will be no inheritance. Now, get out of my sight.”
Dinner half eaten, drinks about to be served, not one of the siblings wanted to irritate her more than they already had. I suspect all of them believed, as they shuffled out, that things would be back to normal tomorrow.
My so-called father didn’t move.
Her eyes rested on him. “You don’t mean any of that; it was just a wake-up call to what I admit have been a few annoying children. But let’s face it, we both spoiled them. It’s as much….”
She picked up her glass of wine and threw it at him, the wine not the glass.
“Rethink those words, Roger. If that’s the defence you’re going with, you’re in big trouble. Leave now before I pick up the phone and call my lawyers.”
He stood slowly. “We can talk later. How will you get home?”
“Charlie can take me.”
I could see his nose wrinkle at the thought of my so-called mother being seen in a ’60s Ford truck.
Another repentant look at her, he left, joining the others out on the pavement. They hadn’t gone, still stunned from their mother’s outburst.
She sighed, then sat.
I was stunned, still trying to come to terms with what had been said. Adopted. My so-called mother had a sister worth 300 million. How? I was my mother’s sister’s child. And something else I remembered, my father was my father in a weird twist of fate.
I was, in a sense, family. But my aunt, who was my mother for all intents and purposes, hadn’t done a very good job.
…
It was five minutes, maybe more, before she spoke. I think that at that time she ran through every scenario, and not one of them would suffice.
A sigh, then, “You should be angry. I don’t think there’s anything I can say that you would believe just how sorry I am. That’s on me. I want to use the excuse that both my twin sister and I were stupid spoilt drug addled kids who honestly believed life had no consequences, that we could do whatever we liked.
“I met your father, Susannah stole him, he dumped her and picked me, then shagged her anyway. She got pregnant, couldn’t handle it, killed herself, and it was a miracle you survived. We agreed to adopt you and call you our own. After all, there was no difference between my sister and I. I just went away with you for nine months, and everything was fine.
“My problem was in marrying your father; I had to forgo my inheritance. I got an allowance, but I didn’t really care all that much about money, and let him manage it. I had no idea how much he disadvantaged you to the benefit of the others, not until a year ago, with Anna and her endless visits to rehabilitation. And all the money he’d poured into John’s black hole was caused by idiotic investments. The others are not much better.
“I’m sorry you got nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter. It taught me lessons they will never get. If you have nothing to start with, then every step up is appreciated all the more. Perhaps the best birthday present was to see them finally look as scared as I have felt all my life. It won’t hurt them, but It might be too late to make a point.”
“It’s never too late. And the point will be made. Did you get the box?”
“With a card and a letter?”
“Yes. Did you read the letter?”
“No. It said not to until after the party.”
“You have it?”
I took it out of my pocket and showed her. I knew now who it was from. My mother. My real mother.
She took it with shaking hands and tears running down her cheeks. There were eighteen years of pain etched on her face.
“I was there when you were born. She had one last breath in her; as she breathed life into you, she exhaled her last. I loved you like you were mine, until I got lost in a sea of self pity an post natal depression. We were twins; I felt her pain, I felt everything that she would have felt. I’m sorry I wasn’t made of stronger stuff.”
“I think I’ve always regarded you as my mother. Though preferring the other five, well, that took a little understanding, of which in the end I had none.”
“I come from an era of women who preferred to hide behind their husbands. It was drummed into us, but Anna was never going to be like that. Still, that’s not an excuse.” She handed the letter back.
You should read it now, then we can decide what to do.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“Yes.”
…
If you are reading this, you will have just turned 18, a very important moment in your life.
If you have not been told, you will have been adopted by my twin sister, and she has promised me she will look after you better than I could.
I was not very good at managing anything. Our lives were ruined from the start by parents who did not care at all what happened to us, that if they threw enough money at the problem, it would go away.
Money does not solve problems; it simply amplifies them into bigger problems.
I hope she has not gone down that path. If she has, then I am sorry that I trusted her, that you did not get a life that was not as it should have been.
And if, on the other hand, she has managed to teach you the value of life, and more importantly, that it is family, those we choose and those we have to live with, and others who will have a guiding influence that will make us who we will become.
Given the five examples that constitute her current children, I’m not holding my breath that she will make a good fist of it.
Still, on my deathbed, I can only hope. Perhaps there is some afterlife where I can come down and reprimand them if they falter. You will be the judge of that. Try not to be too critical. Her upbringing, like mine, was terrible, and it’s hard to break out of a cycle you’ve known and been subject to for most of your life.
But, whatever the circumstances you find yourself in, if you are reading this letter, my sister has had the wherewithal to give it to you. It means even if she is ashamed of what happened, it cannot be so bad that you might unequivocally hate her.
In the box is a key to a safety deposit box. It is where your inheritance is. The other key’s location can be obtained from the family lawyers, name and address with the key. It can only be given to you, so you will have to undergo a DNA test and a few other identity tests that Freda will help you with.
What you do with your inheritance is up to you. I can only hope that you will not take a leaf out of my book and waste the opportunity to do some good, the good I realised far too late that I could have done.
Remember that I loved you then with all of my heart, and will to the end of tine.
Susannah.
…
“Were you that bad?”
“What did she say?”
“Your parents threw money at the problem, hoping it would go away.”
“Then yes. I married your father to break that cycle and find some normality, but he was a poor fool who found himself in a world he couldn’t cope with. My parents were right to disown me.”
“You had your sister’s fortune.”
“No. We never mentioned that to him, only that she would provide a certain sum for your upbringing. We had money, but that boost allowed helping to help indulge his children, where in the end they were no better off than my brothers and sisters were. He wanted the life I hated.”
“And by a quirk of fate, you both brought me up the way in which mother had hoped you would, by a totally different method. Resentment. I have not once ever had to thought i could have anything I wanted, not like the others. Cars, gift cards, credit cards with no limit, houses, and apartments. None 9f them really work for a living, and I can’t see how they’re going to function.”
“They can come and see you for advice on how to live within their means.”
They were still outside the restaurant, trying to come to terms with what just happened. They’d turned on Anna, then the father, then each other.
“Did you mean what you said to them?”
“Yes. No more.”
“I don’t think they quite get that. They’re still outside.”
She shrugged. “Then it’s going to be a cold day in hell tomorrow. We have a road trip. New York. I want to tell you everything about your mother before we go home, our home, where she came from, and where you will be welcomed.”
“How could that be possible?”
“That you will discover is the advantage of being a firstborn Rossiter. My sister was born three minutes before me, and therefore, is the eldest child. The eldest Rossiter then becomes the heir. You were her first and eldest child, and therefore the current heir to the Rossiter legacy.
“And you have a sister, something my husband never knew about, a twin sister. The caretaker. There is a world that my husband and my other children know nothing about because I was excommunicated.
“Because now you are of age and can accept the inheritance, if you want to, of course, there’s no obligation; it has to be your choice, you can give me the chance to come back, but that too is only at your discretion, and I will understand if you rule against it.
“But its complicated and messy and swamped with rules and protocols and its the reason both my sister and I ran away. You might too when you discover the full extent of it.”
“I can make their lives easier,” I waved a hand in their direction.
“You could, but they never made it easy for you. None of us did. By choice or by ignorance. That might never have changed if it had not been for Anna’s outburst.”
“But you said you were making changes. That means you knew you were wrong and wanted to do something about it.”
“After 16 years of neglecting my sister’s wishes?”
I shrugged. “We will have much to talk about. Shall we go? Out the back. I had a feeling, one way or another, I would be slinking out of here.”
Good to see, also, it had started snowing. It was the first of the season, and it meant Christmas was around the corner. It might not be fun at home, but as a member of the town’s Christmas committee, the pageantry, the fete, the Christmas tree plot, and charity events always made it worthwhile.
Perhaps this year I could do more.
My mother, so-called, was my mother, good and bad. She was the only mother I’d had, and I’d learned from school that it wasn’t always a luxury for all the kids there.
I gave her a hug, which surprised her, a hug that had every one of those 18 years her twin had been gone, but rather strangely was still with her in body and spirit. I realised then I didn’t have to imagine the woman I had never met because she was the woman standing there in front of me.
It was the best and only present I could ever want for what was the most memorable and remarkable birthday of my life.
…
© Charles Heath 2026
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 