Melanie doesn’t see the dry sagebrush along the roadside. She’s remembering the endless rains of her Oregon childhood and the laughter and games with her siblings. She reassures herself that her family had been close. Surely they knew that their mother had the right to spend her money however she chose. Hadn’t they been taught that family relationships were more important than money?

“It was a nice funeral,” her husband Daniel says over the hum of the car air conditioner.

“Yes,” she replies, and remembers hugging old friends. “So now, I guess we need to divvy up the few things Mom left.”

Daniel nods.

“It looks like we’re the last to arrive,” he comments as Melanie notes Mike’s SUV,  Jennifer’s Toyota, and Paul’s Jeep.

But she shakes her head—"I don’t see Jackie’s car.”

Her brother Mike meets them at the door and points to some snacks on the table. “Find a place to sit,” he says. “We’re just talking right now. Jackie will be here in about half an hour.”

As Melanie and Daniel sit down, she realizes they’ve entered in the middle of an ongoing conversation. “Yeah, I know how you feel,” Paul says. “I tried talking to Mom about that, but she wasn’t listening.”

“About what?” Melanie asks.

Her brother Paul shifts in his seat. “The money she loaned or gave Jackie.”

“It just wasn’t right,” her sister Jennifer continues stridently. “It’s not our fault Jackie married a loser and needed the extra money. I’ll tell you, Derrick has had a hard time. Last year he …”

Melanie reaches for an almond from the bowl on the table.  She knows what’s coming—a long discourse on Jennifer’s oldest son and his money problems, with an aside about the money her mother had given their younger sister Jackie.

I wish I weren’t here, Melanie thinks. Anywhere but sitting in Mom’s living room listening to my siblings’ anger and perceived injustice.

Five years ago, she would have been shocked and dismayed by the course of this discussion. But that was five years ago. When had she first heard the acid in Paul’s voice and the entitlement in Jennifer’s? Maybe when Mom’s health started to decline? She glances at her oldest brother Mike, but he’s staring at the floor.

“And we didn’t loan Derrick fifty thousand dollars to get his life back in order,” Jennifer finishes as Melanie mentally returns to the conversation.

“But Mom thought Jackie needed it for her house down payment. The rest of us were already established,” Melanie defends.

Paul and Jennifer look at her. She reads the accusation in their eyes and knows what they are thinking. Well, yeah, you can be the generous one because you have more than the rest of us, and you really don’t need what she gave Jackie. And besides, you weren’t here.

Melanie remembers how she had tried to visit often, but it was a two-hour drive to the small desert town. Paul lived just a few blocks away, and Melanie had always felt comforted knowing her mother had someone checking on her every day.

There is a pause in the conversation before Jennifer says what Melanie knows she will say. “Well, Jackie brought some of the problems on herself—by her choices, I mean.” Slight head nods, but Melanie notices that the in-laws are conspicuously quiet as they stare outside or at the floor.

“Jackie paid back most of the money,” Mike volunteers.

“Yes, but how much? Mom wasn’t keeping up with things the last year or so,” Paul states.

“Shouldn’t we wait to talk to Jackie when she gets here?” Melanie asks. “I’m going to believe what she says.”

“Not so sure about that,” Paul says tersely.

Melanie sighs, “I think that’s between Mike and Jackie. He’s the executor.”

Mike nods, but Paul counters. “Yeah, but he hasn’t been here to see everything that’s gone on.”

Melanie is suddenly bone-weary. “I’m going to go out to her garden,” she says. “Let me know when Jackie comes.” Daniel stands to go with her.

She is quiet as she walks through the backyard and sits down heavily on one of the plastic chairs. Daniel sits, instinctively knowing when she needs him beside her.

“Who are these greedy people?” Melanie asks softly, surveying the overgrown garden. “All this fuss about the money Mom loaned or gave Jackie. It’s bizarre. We don’t need it. None of us do. We all have our own homes, children, grandchildren, and none of them are starving. What’s the big deal about fairness? That’s all crap!”

And that is all it takes for the tears to start again. “I wish she hadn’t left anything—well, at least anything material,” Melanie chokes out. “She left us a great legacy of love, hard work, integrity, and humor. I know that sounds hokey, but she did. She left us memories and stories. Why are we worrying about money? Where are those cute, loveable little kids I grew up with?”

“They just grew up to be regular shitty adults,” Daniel says.

The unending hot desert wind rustles her hair, and Melanie remembers how she hated the wind whenever she came to visit. “I guess I’m remembering life from fifty years ago,” she says.

Daniel nods, and they sit in silence for a few minutes. “I’m just sad,” Melanie continues. “And I’m sorry for poor Mike. He has to negotiate all this mess.” She pauses and then looks over at Daniel. “And what happens when your mother dies? Are your siblings going to turn into ‘shitty adults?’”

“Probably,” Daniel grins.

“And what about our kids? Are they going to be like this too?”

Daniel sighs and grimaces. “Well, let’s just say I’m in favor of taking as many cruises as we can fit into our busy schedules in the next few years, and hopefully there won’t be much for them to squabble over once we’re gone.”

Melanie nods as she hears Mike’s voice from the house. “Jackie’s here.”

“Let’s go back and join those ‘cute lovable kids,’” Melanie says with a sigh.