Michael’s voice was controlled, polite, almost too polite.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”
Patricia tried to recover. She pasted on a smile that belonged to daytime.
“How was Grace? Did she have a good time with us?”
My jaw tightened.
Michael didn’t answer directly.
“We need to ask you something.”
Patricia’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh.”
Michael took a breath.
“Grace was wrapping her laptop tonight. She said she was giving it to Lucas for his birthday.”
Patricia let out a small chuckle, like this was a sweet misunderstanding.
“Well, isn’t that generous of her?”
Michael didn’t smile.
“Mom, did you tell her she had to do that?”
There it was. Calm. Direct.
Patricia’s expression didn’t change much. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t deny it.
“Yes,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Of course.”
Michael’s shoulders tensed.
Patricia continued, her voice firmer now.
“Michael, you gave a child a very expensive gift. She’s nine. That’s not appropriate. And Lucas doesn’t have anything like that. It isn’t fair.”
George nodded once, slow, like he was agreeing with a point that had already been decided.
Michael’s mouth tightened.
“It was for her editing. You know that.”
Patricia waved a hand.
“It’s still too much, and Lucas wants one. He would appreciate it.”
Grace made a small sound in her throat, like a suppressed sob. I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She leaned into my hand.
Michael’s voice dropped colder.
“Did you tell Grace she can’t call you Grandma if she doesn’t give it to Lucas?”
Patricia’s smile returned, but it wasn’t warm. It was the kind of smile used as a weapon.
“I told her,” Patricia said, “that if she wants to be part of this family, she needs to learn to share.”
Michael stared at the screen.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Patricia’s eyes narrowed.
“If she wants to be my granddaughter,” she said slowly, “she needs to behave like one.”
Something in Michael’s face changed.
It was subtle, but I saw it. The part of him that tried to keep everyone comfortable disappeared.
Michael pushed his chair back and stood up. Even on a video call, he stood tall. Still.
Grace’s eyes widened. Mine did too.
Patricia blinked again, sharper this time. George sat up straighter.
Michael’s voice was quiet, but it carried weight.
“If you want to be Grace’s grandparents,” he said, “then you need to behave like it.”
Patricia opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“Michael, it’s the middle of the—”