The Cousin Who Insisted on Saving Our Uncle Regrets It Madly

Great-Uncle Roland had no children of his own. Now he was gravely ill in the hospital, and the surgery would cost eight hundred thousand.

Even the doctor was telling us to give up.

But when I called my cousin Sandra Gilbert, a thousand miles away, she turned on my sister and me with real venom:

Great-Uncle was so good to us when we were little. Now, when he needs us most, how can the two of you be so heartless?

I tried to explain. "But the doctor says the surgery's high-risk. And even if it works, there's a strong chance he ends up in a coma."

Sandra shouted back, "Then he gets treated anyway! We can't fail Great-Uncle. We can't be that kind of people!"

I said, "Then, the money."

She let out a cold laugh. "The three of us split it evenly, obviously. You and your sister can't be doing so badly you can't even scrape together that much, can you?"

After the surgery, Great-Uncle really did end up comatose.

Sandra looked after him for a while, then tried to slip away home in the middle of the night.

I gripped her luggage and wouldn't let go. "Sandra, this is when Great-Uncle needs you most. You wouldn't be that heartless, would you?"

She begged me through her tears. "Marcus Gilbert, just let me go. I can't stay chained to this place forever. I have to go home, or my whole family falls apart!"

When the doctor laid out Great-Uncle's condition,

my sister and I could barely take it in.

Marcia Gilbert's face was full of worry.

"Doctor, is there really no cure?"

The doctor sighed.

"He's terminal now."

I asked, "Even if there's just a sliver of hope?"

He shook his head.

"Let me put it plainly. Even in the small chance the surgery succeeds, he'll come out of it in a coma."

"Of course, if you as the family insist on treatment, what kind of doctor refuses to treat a patient?"

"I think I've made myself clear."

"My advice is that you talk it over as a family first, then make the final call."

Hearing that, Marcia squeezed my hand.

She couldn't accept an ending like this.

I walked her out of the doctor's office, one hand supporting her.

After thinking about it for a long time, I said,

"Sis, we shouldn't decide this on our own. We should call Uncle Howard and Sandra."

"Great-Uncle has no children, after all, and when we were young, Sandra was always his favorite."

Marcia nodded.

I called Uncle Howard first.

Once he'd heard me out, he brushed it straight off.

"Marcus, you're his nephew. A nephew is half a son, and since your great-uncle has no son of his own, that makes you his son."

"So you handle this however you see fit."

I said, "Uncle Howard, you're his brother. Great-Uncle really wants to see family right now. I think you should come to the hospital."

He snapped, irritated, "That sickly man, how long has he been ill now?"

"Every single time, I'm the one who has to come to the hospital. Where am I supposed to find all that time?"

"Am I not allowed to work? To have a life?"

"You're his nephew. You handle it!"

His attitude left a bad taste in my mouth.

Great-Uncle was barely hanging on.

How could his own brother act like this?

I frowned. "Uncle Howard, I'm not asking you for money. I just want you to come see him once. This might be the last time you ever do."

He barked right back, "I don't care what your angle is. Either way, you're his nephew, so it's your call what you do."

"When I've got the time on my end, I'll come. That's it. Goodbye."

He hung up without a shred of mercy.

I let out a breath.

Then I called Sandra.

Part of me wondered if she'd take the same line.

But the moment Sandra heard what was going on, she shrieked at me,

"Marcus, I think the real story is you're too cheap to pay for Great-Uncle's surgery, so you cooked up this excuse."

Her words sat badly with me.

Holding it back, I asked,

"What do you mean by that?"

"Are you playing dumb when you know full well?"

My cousin shot the accusation at me, vicious.

"Great-Uncle Roland was so good to you two your whole lives, and now, when he needs you, this is what you do."

"How can you be this heartless? How can you just give up on treatment?"

I explained,

"It's not giving up, it's"

"Don't feed me that garbage." Sandra shouted,

"I don't care how much it costs, Great-Uncle Roland gets treated."

Sandra had always been even tighter with money than Uncle Howard.

Hearing her say that caught me off guard.

"It's not that we don't want him to have the surgery. The doctor said the risk is high, and even if it works, there's a strong chance he ends up in a coma."

Sandra roared,

"Then he gets treated anyway!"

"We can't fail Great-Uncle Roland. We can't have no conscience!"

Listening to how righteous she sounded, I asked,

"But the surgery costs eight hundred thousand. Who's paying for it?"

Sandra scoffed,

"So it really is about the money."

"You heartless little thing."

"After everything Great-Uncle Roland did for you, now you're worried about the money? Are you even human?"

The way she said it, you'd think I was some kind of monster.

But the truth was, when we were kids, it was Sandra he treated best of all.

Take the holiday cash gifts.

Sandra always got a thousand from him. My sister and I got five hundred.

If she hadn't bragged about her holiday money the year she turned sixteen,

my sister and I probably never would have known.

Or take that investment insurance policy Sandra bought as a kid.

Over eight thousand a year, paid for twenty straight years, with annual dividends once it matured.

My sister and I both envied her for it.

At first I assumed Uncle Howard had bought it because he doted on his daughter.

But later, drunk one night, he said it himself,

"Me? Buy something like that? Not a chance."

"That was all your cousin's idea. I only paid the first year."

"After that, every time a payment came due, she'd go crying to Great-Uncle Roland and get him to cover it."

"I'll give her this, the girl's got a knack for it. She actually got him to pay twenty years of premiums."

"Now she collects money every year. Clever girl."

And that wasn't all.

After she graduated, Sandra borrowed fifty thousand from him to buy a car.

Later, when she bought a place out of town, she borrowed another hundred thousand from him.

Borrowed, supposedly. She never paid back a cent.

So if you actually tallied it up,

Sandra was the one he'd looked after most, and the one who owed him the most.

But she'd moved away after graduation.

Whenever he got sick or something came up, it was my sister and me who took care of him.

She never lifted a finger.

Every time it came up, she'd say,

"Isn't that exactly what you younger ones are supposed to do?"

"You want to brag about doing that little?"

"What's your real angle here?"

But now Great-Uncle Roland was already like this, and a lot of the accounts couldn't be settled.

There was no point saying any of it.

I thought for a moment, then said,

"Sandra, you'd better think this through."

"Set the eight hundred thousand aside for a second."

"If Great-Uncle Roland ends up in a coma, who's going to take care of him?"

Sandra snapped,

"You, obviously. You're his nephew. If you don't, who will?"

I laughed.

"Sandra, if that's how you want to play it, that's pretty heartless, don't you think?"

"He treated you the best. You're the one who spent the most of his money."

Sandra seemed to have seen it coming. Her voice went cold.

"I knew you were an ungrateful little brat who can't stand to see anyone else do well."

"Fine. You, me, and your sister. The three of us take turns caring for him. That work for you?"

Before I could answer, she pressed on, firm again,

"Bottom line, Great-Uncle Roland gets treated."

"I'm flying back right now. The family-signature line, all three of us sign it together."

The call ended.

I looked at my sister.

She was quiet for a moment, then said,

"She's doing it on purpose. She came to flaunt how much better she is. Just watch. She'll make her move soon."

And she did.

Less than ten minutes later.

Sandra spoke up in the family group chat.

Everyone, all my relatives and elders, I want to give a quick update about Great-Uncle Roland's condition.

The doctors say it's very serious. Marcus wants to stop treatment.

But how can we just give up? That's my Great-Uncle Roland. No matter what he thinks, I believe his illness has to be treated.

Even if Marcus won't pay for it, I, Sandra Gilbert, will cover all of it myself.

The moment she posted it, the relatives showered her with praise.

Yes, Sandra's right about this.

This girl really is devoted.

You can't be too practical in life. Money or family, which one really matters? At least Sandra sees it clearly.

Good girl. Really something.

Every single voice was praising her.

I read the chatter and gave a bitter laugh, then said to my sister,

"Great-Uncle Roland has been sick for over two years now."

"Every single time, I'm the one who takes him to the hospital. I'm the one running around for him."

"I've even had to take time off work to look after him."

"Sandra never lifted a finger, and now look at this. She gets to be the good one."

"And I've turned into the villain who wants to abandon him."

My sister glanced at the chat and said,

"I knew she'd pull something like this. Ever since we were kids, she's always been more scheming than us."

I nodded flatly.

"Yeah. She's scheming, all right."

"She knows I'm about to get married and need the money."

"She knows money's tight for me right now, and she times a demand like this just to kick me while I'm down."

"But she's standing on the moral high ground, so I can't even argue back."

That evening.

The relatives all came to the hospital to see Great-Uncle Roland.

Sandra flew in too.

The second she walked into the room, she crouched down in front of him, gripped his hand, and cried.

"Great-Uncle Roland. Oh, Great-Uncle Roland."

"Marcus said he wanted to give up on you, but I won't allow it. I came all the way back just to make sure of it."

"Great-Uncle Roland, don't you worry. Your illness will be treated."

"No matter how much it costs, I'm getting you cured!"

Her words moved the relatives right along with her.

And she got in a kick at me while she was at it.

Even Great-Uncle Roland was moved to tears. He clutched her hand.

"Forget it. I'm already like this. Don't waste your money."

"How could money matter more than family!" she protested. "Great-Uncle Roland, just relax. Never mind eight hundred thousand, if it were eight million I'd still get you cured!"

There was no room for argument in her voice.

How could any of the relatives object after that.

They all praised her for being so devoted.

For being such a good one.

After the visit, Sandra insisted on treating the relatives to a meal.

She threw money around like it was nothing, like she'd been doing very well for herself out of town all these years.

At dinner, she even called me out by name in front of everyone.

"Marcus, I hear you're getting married soon. Is that it? You're short on cash, so you don't want to pay for Great-Uncle Roland's treatment?"

I knew she was doing it on purpose.

I was seething inside, but on the surface I stayed firm.

"What are you talking about, Sandra? However much it costs, the two of us split it, that's all."

She frowned.

"What do you mean, the two of us? Isn't your sister his niece too? She has to pay her share as well!"

I smiled calmly.

"Sandra, that's not right. My sister isn't married yet. She and I are one household."

"By your math, wouldn't your family only pay a third, while mine pays two-thirds?"

"Marcus, don't play word games with me. All I know is she's his niece too. Married or not, she pays."

My sister was about to lose it.

But I held her back, signaling her not to speak.

I looked at Sandra.

"So by your math, my sister counts as her own separate share, right?"

"Of course!" she said, like it was obvious.

I nodded.

"Then in that case, after Great-Uncle Roland dies, his house gets split evenly into three shares too, and my sister gets one of them. Right?"

Her frown deepened, her eyes darting around, and then she jabbed a finger at me.

"Marcus, I always knew you were an ungrateful little snake, the worst kind."

"Great-Uncle Roland isn't even dead yet and you're already scheming for his estate. Are you even human!"

Once again my cousin planted herself on the moral high ground to lecture.

I'd already seen it coming. I smiled and said,

"All the relatives and elders are here today, so it's better to get everything straight."

"You can't have my sister put in the money and the work, and then get no share of the property afterward. Where's the sense in that?"

The relatives all started murmuring among themselves.

Grandpa Walter nodded then and said,

"Marcus has a point. A lot of things are better spelled out now."

"I've seen plenty of families torn apart fighting over exactly this kind of thing."

"Settle it clearly now, and you save yourselves a world of trouble later."

Grandpa Vincent and Grandpa Nathan nodded along too.

With the elders directing things,

Grandpa Vincent's granddaughter, who's a lawyer, began drawing up a charter, and then Sandra and I signed it.

After that, the elders signed as witnesses.

Finally it went to Great-Uncle Roland to sign.

By the time it was all arranged, it was past ten at night.

The relatives who were going to leave left.

Sandra was getting ready to leave too.

But I blocked her.

"Sandra, now that everyone's roles are clear, we split all of it fifty-fifty."

"I've already been at the hospital caring for him half a month, and that's not even counting the two-plus years before that."

"So now, no matter how you look at it, you've got to stay and take care of Uncle Roland, right?"

Sandra shrieked,

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I came all this way from a thousand miles off, and you won't even let me get some rest?"

I laughed.

"You want to rest?"

"My sister and I both have jobs, and we still had to stay and take care of Uncle Roland, worked half to death, every one of us."

"We didn't get to rest, so what makes you think you get to?"

My sister didn't hold back either.

"You've built up the whole saintly act. Don't tell me you're ready to drop the good-person routine this fast?"

Sandra glared viciously at my sister.

"Marcia Gilbert, what did you just say?"

My sister gave it right back.

"My meaning couldn't be clearer."

"If you don't want to stay and take care of Uncle Roland, then go say so in the group chat yourself."

"Say all you can do is run your mouth, and you won't lift a finger to actually care for him!"

I added,

"She couldn't back out even if she wanted to."

"Everyone signed."

"Not unless she gives up her share of Uncle Roland's apartment."

Sandra's face went ugly with rage.

My sister and I didn't bother with her anymore.

We just left.

Three days went by like that.

Sandra slowly started getting agitated.

On the fourth day, the surgery was a success.

But Uncle Roland was left in a coma.

Facing that outcome, the relatives all said how sad it was.

Sandra's face grew darker and darker.

A few days later, Uncle Roland was discharged and came home.

That very night, Sandra wanted to pack up and go home.

"Sandra, where do you think you're going?"

Sandra glared at me, annoyed.

"Move. Where I go is none of your business."

I said flatly,

"Where you go isn't my business, but you're the one who insisted on the surgery. Now that Uncle Roland's in a coma, you have to stay and look after him."

Sandra froze for a second, then snapped at me,

"I've already taken care of Uncle Roland for a whole week. The rest is on you!"

I gave her a faint smile.

"Sandra, don't forget you signed. One week is only the beginning."