My Daughter Texted Me: “For Christmas, We’re Keeping It Very Small—Just Immediate Family.” I Replied, “No Problem. Have Fun.” What She Didn’t Know Was-I Had Just Moved Into My Brand New $22 Million Mansion. When One Of My Guests Posted Photos Online, My Phone Rang 59 Times. “Mom, Please Call Me Back…”

“I remember bringing homemade cookies that your children weren’t allowed to eat because they might spoil their dinner, while store-bought desserts from Andrew’s mother were served with pride.”

“I remember spending 3 hours in your kitchen helping with cleanup while his mother held court in the living room because she shouldn’t have to work on Christmas.”

“Mom, I—”

“I remember driving home that night thinking that it might be the last Christmas I ever spent feeling like a secondass citizen in my own daughter’s life.”

I picked up my spoon again and took another bite of sule. Turns out I was right. Richard cleared his throat.

“Perhaps we should move to the living room for coffee.”

“Actually,” I said, “I think this is the perfect time to share some news.”

“Richard has been helping me with some legal arrangements since the inheritance, and I thought you should know about them.”

Andrew’s fork clattered against his plate. “What kind of arrangements?”

“Well, obviously, I’ve had to update my will. $22 million requires careful estate planning.”

“Of course,” Melanie said quickly.

“That makes sense.”

“I’m so glad you approve.”

“Richard, would you like to explain the new provisions?”

My attorney set down his wine glass and assumed his professional demeanor. “Certainly. Viven has made some very thoughtful decisions about her legacy.

The art collection will go to the Metropolitan Museum. Mrs. Chun, who has shown such loyalty and care, receives a substantial trust.

There are educational trusts for the grandchildren, contingent on their maintaining independent relationships with their grandmother.”

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