My wife works part-time, purely for her own amusement. My earnings are more than enough for her to stay at home and do as she pleases, which suits us both quite well. Since Im so often wrapped up in my own busy pursuits, I find it comforting that she can be free all the time. Life flows rather nicelywe have a quirky two-level flat, no children, but theres a loyal dog bounding about. Theres always enough money for what we need; were certainly not wanting for anything. And yet, sometimes I sense shes always yearning for something more, something just out of reach.
I never bothered to stake a claim on Granddads inheritance, assuming it would all go to his one and only daughtermy mother. And thats precisely what happened. But my wife didnt understand it, nor could she accept it.
I though you were his favourite grandson, shed say, looking bewildered. How could he leave you out entirely? Is that really how families behave?
Curious, since her own family never helped us out financially. She has two sisters, and if you tried to divvy up their rather snug flat among the three, thered hardly be a corner left for eachso thats not the point.
The point is, she aches for that inheritance my parents received, and she didnt. I suspect shes daydreaming about selling the flat and hoarding more for us, though her desires float somewhere beyond my understanding, and I dont share them.
Does it insult her that I got nothing, or is she simply entertained by the idea of gathering more from someone elses fortune? Its obvious, really, that someday my parents will leave everything to me, since Im their only child. But it feels unpleasant hearing her complain about my late granddadwhen all will come to us in the end anyway.
Sometimes, in the midst of foggy mornings, I imagine the dog speaking in riddles about property deeds and keys made of clouds, and my wife dancing through rooms lined with wallpaper sporting pound coins. The inheritance swims about like something slippery in a teacup, always nearly there, never quite poured out.
