When we were little, my darling sister had been his favorite. He even took her fishing and not me. I didn’t even want to go fishing, but it hurt. I wonder how much that influenced my choice of career. Well, it didn’t matter now. I’d be going home soon, as soon as I cleared out all my stuff from my garage; well, even the garage wasn’t really mine anyhow, just the contents.
It wasn’t the money; it wasn’t like when you see two siblings fighting over who gets the china or the silver tea service, it just wasn’t fair. No, that’s not quite right either; oh I don’t know! Did he have to let the whole world know I was not his favorite? Nor did he care that people knew he didn’t even like me. He hadn’t even told me the car was going to be mine. What was that all about? At least my grandfather had loved me. I was grateful for that, though it wasn’t exactly what I’d needed my whole life.