Chris Harvey called his daughter for aid after being hospitalized. Instead of coming, she sent her son… Chris Harvey called his daughter for aid after being hospitalized. Her son Peter checked on him and prepared the house for his return instead of her. Peter and Hannah had a different idea. Chris returned home to discover his cherished house practically stripped, and his grandson’s bombshell confession broke everything.
Dad, don’t worry. I’ll work it out,” Angelina told her father over the phone, nervous. I can’t visit—I’ve run out of paid time off at work.”
Chris, 87, called from his hospital bed, heart troubled. He called 911 himself after a terrifying heart attack. Doctors wanted to test and observe him longer.
I understand, honey. Doctors are cautious due of my age. Chris whispered, phone to ear, “I’ll know more soon.”
Chris felt lonely after hanging up but stayed hopeful. Angelina looked at Peter, her son.
“You need to go to Austin and stay with your grandfather,” she insisted over the phone.
“I don’t know, Mom.” Peter began tentatively.
“Peter!” she shouted. “He’s alone, and after this heart scare, who knows how long? His sole grandson. He always stated you’d inherit the house and his possessions. Check what needs fixing so he can live comfortably. Also a terrific chance to bond.”
Peter quieted. He seems to have hung up, Angelina thought. His tone was curiously neutral when he answered. “Alright. I’ll take Hannah. I suppose I can request time off since I haven’t vacationed in years.”
“Good. Thank you, son. You’re my hope,” she said, relieved.
Angelina had no idea what her son planned.
After a few days, physicians gave Chris a lot of drugs and strict instructions to relax and avoid physical activities. Chris nodded, but he was preoccupied—especially since Peter hadn’t spoken.
Chris took a cab home hoping for the best. When he arrived, his heart nearly stopped again.
The front yard contained some of his favorite, long-held items of furniture. Even worse, the front door was open, yet he remembered the paramedics closing it before taking him to the hospital.
Chris entered, terrified, and froze. His house was ruined. His paintings, military souvenirs, credenza, and kitchen table are gone. The floor was covered with plastic sheets, like someone had painted or renovated quickly.
“Hello?” he shakily said.
Hallway footsteps reverberated.
“Grandpa?” Peter’s bewildered voice returned as he emerged.
Chris suddenly felt relieved and raced to hug his grandson. “Peter! Thank goodness you’re here! I thought I was blind-robbed. What’s up?”
Although his lips twitched uncomfortably, Peter reciprocated the hug. “Oh, no one broke in.”
Chris recoiled, staring at him. What happened?
Peter looked behind him. “We wanted to surprise you.”
“We?”
“Yes, Hannah and I. He turned to summon her, saying she was here.
Hannah appeared, opening her eyes in disbelief. “Oh! Mr. Harvey… hello!”
“So nice to see you again!” Kissing her face, Chris welcomed her. “Please explain this mess to me.”
Peter and Hannah had a brief, charged glance.
“We wanted to remodel the house for you,” Peter said enthusiastically. It needed a lot of work, but we felt it would cheer you up after the hospital. However, you returned home earlier than intended.
Chris’s eyes sparkled. He was really moved. “How kind! Though I hope you two aren’t overspending.”
Hannah hurriedly said, “Oh no, no,” but her fake smile showed. “We know people.”
“And my stuff?” Chris inquired gently.
Cleared his throat. “They’re stored. Most of them. Some parts are outside awaiting garbage pickup—we wanted to give you some fresh things.”
Chris was overcome with thanks. “Many thanks, both! You amaze me.”
Chris departed after a brief conversation to retrieve his medicines and vowed to return.
Chris softly checked on them on his way back from the pharmacy. As he reached the old bedroom door, he heard a fight.
“What are we doing, idiot?” Hannah raged and spat.
“Calm down, Hannah. Peter hurriedly murmured, “We’ll adjust the plan.”
“Adjust? He was dying, you said! To buy ourselves this house! You think I wanted to invest in someone else’s property when we’re renting?
Chris’s stomach twisted. He covered his mouth with a shaking hand to stay silent.
“It’s fine, Hannah,” Peter said. “I’ll own the house. Consider his large savings an investment.
Hannah snapped. “No! We’re done spending! We leave tomorrow! This was pointless!”
Chris backed away, heart racing. He concealed his exit and returned as if nothing had happened.
Chris decided it was time when they awkwardly ate spaghetti on the empty living room floor that night.
“Peter, there’s something I want to discuss,” he said, sensing their interest.
“I’ve decided to move into a nursing home permanently,” Chris said gently. Don’t want another health crisis alone. I believe you two should own this house.”
Peter and Hannah’s expressions brightened up, disbelief turned to joy.
“Really, Grandpa?” PETER gasped.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Chris nodded gravely.
“Many thanks! “We’ll make this house beautiful,” Peter exclaimed, and Hannah giggled.
Over several weeks, they spent money refurbishing the house. Chris played along, seeming to be grateful as they threw away more of his stuff.
After renovations, Chris suggested a housewarming celebration. Peter and Hannah joyfully welcomed Miami friends, confident they had won.
First, the party was fun. Everyone laughed and celebrated. Chris got up and raised his glass.
“A toast to my grandson and his lovely wife,” he said, pausing for applause. “I appreciate your work on my house… because I want to enjoy it forever.”
Room went quiet.
Peter and Hannah froze, horrified.
Chris had piercing eyes when addressing the guests. “Did you know they thought I was dying? They gave away my things and planned the makeover as theirs. When I returned home, they planned to leave me alone.”
The visitors shifted awkwardly.
“Grandpa… Maybe we should chat privately— Peter attempted.
“No need,” Chris said coldly. “I heard everything that day. You planned to steal my home before I left. That’s done. My will altered. After I die, this mansion will be sold and every cent donated to senior charity.”
Peter and Hannah flushed red, shocking their companions.
Chris then became vocal. “I need everyone out of my house before calling the police!”
Chaos ensued. Guests rushed out. Peter asked Chris for a private word, but he refused. yelled, “OUT!”
Chris told Angelina everything the next day. He needed her to know the truth, despite her grief.
“Honey,” he replied sadly, “Peter broke our relationship the day he wrote me off for a house. Beware—who knows what they can do.”
Chris lived another 11 years. After his death, his lawyer sold the house and donated every money and the rest of his assets to a senior organization, ensuring his final deed was dignified and generous.