The house for the son, the daughter feels wronged
— And now what? You’d just hand the house to him? What about me? Am I supposed to live with the kids on the streets? — Emily shot up from the armchair, her face flushed with anger.
— Em, calm down, love. It’s not like you’ll end up on the streets. I’ll help you find a place. I can cover the first payment, — Richard tried to soothe her, but she refused to listen.
— First payment? Do you even know how much housing costs these days? The mortgage rates? And James gets the whole house? For free? For his good looks?
— He’s my son, Emily.
— So I’m not your daughter? — Emily’s voice trembled. — For twenty years I was your daughter, and now suddenly I’m not?
Richard sighed and sank onto the couch. This argument was the third this week, same as before — shouting, tears, accusations.
— Em, listen. James and his wife are juggling three kids in a one-bedroom flat. You and Mark have your own three-bedroom.
— Rented! — Emily cut in.
— But still, it’s not a one-room. And I’m not denying you help. The house… I built it when James was born. Every brick I laid with my own hands. I always thought it’d stay in the family.
— For your son, obviously. What about when you were ill? I drove two stops daily to give you injections, cook, care for you. Where was James? In London, earning a crust!
Richard rubbed his temples. James moved to London not for fun but to support his family, working two jobs. Emily did help after his heart attack, but she lived two stops away, not across the country.
— Emily, the house was always meant for sons, a tradition from my family.
— Tradition! — Emily sneered. — Mum would’ve never allowed this injustice!
— On the contrary. Mum knew the house would go to James. For you, we planned to help buy a flat.
— Mum died ten years ago! — Emily’s eyes welled up. — You just want to buy me off with handouts!
Lily, their ten-year-old granddaughter, peeked in, watching her mother and grandfather.
— Mummy, why are you shouting?
Emily turned, softening her tone.
— Go to your room, Lily. Adults are talking.
The girl hesitated but obeyed. Emily collapsed into the chair.
— Richard, I get it. James has always been more important to you. Always his first, what’s left for me. You don’t want to split the inheritance properly? We’ll go to court. I’ll claim my share.
Richard froze. Emily threatening court was new.
— Em, come now. You think I’m dead? What inheritance?
— You didn’t let me down, did you? I heard James mention the deed. You gave it to him!
He remained silent. Indeed, he signed the deed a month ago. James insisted — fewer problems later. Dark thoughts loomed.
— I did what I thought was right, — he stated. — I’ll help you with housing. I promise. But the house stays with James.
Emily stood abruptly.
— You know what? — She grabbed her bag. — Lily! Pack your things, we’re leaving!
Lily reappeared, apologetically smiling at her grandfather.
— Don’t be mad at Mummy, Grandpa. She’s just tired.
Richard forced a smile, ruffling her hair.
— Go, sweet. Don’t keep your mother waiting.
After they left, he stared out the window. Emily, holding Lily’s hand, hurried toward the gate. She glanced back once, then turned away.
Life, he thought, wasn’t fair. Sons inherited the house; daughters moved elsewhere. It was how it was, how it always was.
The phone rang — James.
— Dad, how are you? We’re coming over Friday as planned. Liz packed the kids and ready to move.
— Yes, son. All good. I’m waiting.
— Did Emily visit? Did you tell her?
— She did… — Richard hesitated. — She took it hard.
— I knew it! — James sighed. — She’s always been greedy. Did she throw another tantrum?
— James, don’t speak of your sister like that. She’s struggling. Mark isn’t working much, they’re short on cash…
— Who isn’t? I work hard, don’t mope around like her.
— Emily works, — Richard said softly.
— Three days a week in her library? That’s not a job, that’s a hobby.
— James, she’s not the same as you.
— Whatever, Dad. You did right with the house. I’ll take care of you.
Richard chuckled dryly. James rarely called, visited even less. But he worked hard, supported a wife and three kids. How could he compare?
Later, Emily called.
— Dad, I’m sorry for earlier. I overreacted.
— It’s okay, love. I understand.
— No, you don’t. I’m hurt. I always thought you loved us equally.
— You’re both my children, — Richard’s voice wavered. — The house… it’s tradition.
— Tradition, — she echoed. — The 21st century, Richard. Equality matters.
He had no response. Emily calmed.
— I’ve decided not to go to court. It’s illogical. We’re family. But I won’t return. It’s too painful.
— Emily, listen…
— I’ll let Lily see you if you wish. But I won’t come.
Richard’s eyes stung. The line went dead. The house creaked, the autumn dusk seeped in.
Weeks passed. James moved in with his family, the house bustling with life. Richard settled in his old room, now cozy. Liz was kind, helpful.
Yet Richard missed Emily and Lily. They didn’t visit, didn’t answer calls.
One night, after the kids slept and Liz was in the bathroom, he confronted James.
— I’ve been thinking about Emily… Maybe we erred with the house?
James frowned.
— Errors? We followed tradition. You told me the house passes to sons. We have a big family. They have Mark, a flat.
— Emily has her own family.
— Family? Her drunk husband and one daughter. What did I do? Earned them a flat!
— Maybe divide it? The land’s big.
— Dad, the deed is signed. It’s done. Emily’s envious. Remember when you gave me the car for my eighteenth? She threw a fit.
— She got hers two years later.
— Not a car, just driving lessons. Nothing she did to earn it. Always wanted everything handed to her.
Richard sighed. Some truth lingered.
— Besides, she’s married. Mark’s her responsibility now. I’ll take care of you, Dad. That’s fair.
Lily entered, damp hair in a towel.
— What are you arguing about?
— Dad worries Lily’s mother isn’t happy, — James said.
Liz sat beside Richard.
— Don’t stress, Dad. Emily will get over it. We’ll care for you.
Yet Richard’s mind stayed with Lily.
One morning, she arrived unannounced.
— Grandpa! — she hugged him. — I missed you!
He held her, noting how she’d grown.
— School? Teacher? Friends?
She cheered up but then turned solemn.
— Mummy’s been sad. Cries when I don’t see. Fights with Mark.
— Badly?
— Yes. Mark says we’re ungrateful, Mummy says he’s to blame. Then Mark leaves, and she cries.
— And Mark stays here?
— No. We’re moving. Mummy found a job in another city. Her library’s closing.
Richard’s chest tightened. Emily leaving? Taking Lily?
— Will Lily come to visit?
— If we’re far away? — Lily shrugged. — Mummy said they’d divorce.
A shock. Divorce. Richard always knew their marriage was shaky. Yet…
— Mummy said we could visit on holiday.
He hugged her close. That night, Richard resolved.
He spoke to James.
— Emily’s divorcing Mark. Leaving the city. I’ll help her.
— Help how? The house is mine!
— I’ll sell the house. Buy you a flat, another for Emily and Lily.
James stood, stunned.
— You’re mental! It’s our family home!
— Houses are walls. Family is people. I can’t choose between you.
Liz supported him.
— Let her have what she needs.
James sighed.
— God, fine. But don’t regret it.
Richard met Emily.
— Selling the house. Buying you a flat.
Her tears flowed.
— Why?
— You’re both my children. I won’t favor one.
Emily and James eventually reunited. The house sold; two flats bought. Richard moved in with Emily.
Emily found a school job, livelier than a library.
In summer, the families vacationed together. Watching James and Emily bond with the kids, Richard smiled. The house was never home. Home was family — your blood, your love.
And none of it, he realized, was built on walls.
