“You can’t drive yet, my love.
If you had gone for your test last year like I had told you to, I would have let you keep the car.
Well, maybe. My point is, I’ve decided to sell the car and divide the money between you, your sisters, and your cousins.
It’s only fair.” I was fuming. My grandpa had worked so hard on that car, and now my mom was going to pawn it off to the highest bidder.
The utter disrespect made my blood boil.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day also holed up in my room, trying to work through the emotions storming inside me. No matter how much I pleaded in the following week, my mother refused to budge.
As far as she was concerned, the car was already sold. Eventually, a buyer turned up who offered my mom $70000 for the car, and I watched him drive it away, almost feeling my grandpa sighing in disappointment.
That was the moment I decided I would get the car back no matter what.
From that point on, my relationship with my mother was unstable, to say the least.
My sisters always seemed to harbor some jealousy because Grandpa left me a car while they each merely got $4000.
But it made sense. I spent every weekend with Grandpa, while they just loafed about, unwilling to even hand him a wrench when he asked for it.
Nevertheless, I went out, got my license, and started working part-time to earn my own money. I built up a good amount, went to college, and used my love of machinery to spur me on my way to become an engineer.
Graduating top of my class helped me land a prestigious post at a high-end engineering company, and at the age of 27, I finally found the opportunity to fulfill the promise I had made 10 years prior.
I was going to get my grandpa’s Chevy back.
I tracked the man who bought the car down and called him up. He was a nice guy. He had a passion for vintage cars much like Grandpa.
We spoke for a while, and although he was reluctant to sell the Chevy, he said I could stop by and take a look at it.
So, I went on a road trip to the town where I was raised and before long, I was looking at the curves of Grandpa’s favorite car once again.
It felt like a dream.
The color was the same, the trim was still in great condition, and the entire thing looked like it was brand new.
The owner, Michael, had never really driven the car. Instead, he collected a number of vintage cars and showed them off every now and again.
Apparently, only three people had ever set foot in the car, excluding my grandpa and me.
I was overjoyed to hear this, and when Mike saw me gazing at the car as if it were an old friend, he buckled and handed me the keys for $80000. It was a steep price, but it was worth it.
I got into the car and drove it home with a huge grin on my face.
I would fetch my other car later on. But the Chevy wasn’t all I got from the deal. On my way home, I glanced down and spotted the ashtray’s closed lid.
Smiling faintly, I opened it up for old time’s sake, just to glimpse inside.
It was empty, as I had assumed it would be. But from beneath the ashtray’s removable innards, I saw a white piece of what seemed to be paper jutting out.
I plucked at it, but it was stuck. Eventually, I got to a gas station, parked, and inspected the ashtray properly.
I removed the plastic bowl where ash was meant to be collected, and lying beneath it was an old envelope with my name scrawled on it.
I was astounded. It was Grandpa’s handwriting, and the envelope was slightly yellowed from age. It was quite heavy and lumpy.
I took it out gingerly and tore it at the top.
A note peeked out, which read: Graham, I hope you’ll enjoy this car as much as I did. I’ve taught you how to look after it, so I expect you to keep her shining.
By now, your sisters and mother are probably all ticked off at you, but that doesn’t matter. You’re the only one I consider family.
You see, you’re grandmother always had someone on the side.
She thought I didn’t know about it, but I just kept my mouth shut. Better to not rock the boat, eh? Your mom is the product of that relationship.
I’ve known this from the start.
I don’t have a single legitimate child. But that’s neither here nor there because you have been like a son to me. That’s why I’m leaving you the Chevy and little to anyone else.
They all know about their real granddad.
They kept you out of it because we were so close and you’re the youngest. But you deserve to know that I love you no matter what.
Enjoy the ride, Grandpa. I won’t admit it easily, but I teared up.
It was so touching. I drove the rest of the way home with a huge smile on my face.
Despite the shocking revelation, I knew Grandpa loved me, and now I had the Chevy back with the person it truly belonged with.
I was so happy, I forgot about the envelope. I picked it up from the ashtray just as I stopped at home, a few minutes ago.
I felt something rattle around inside, and when I looked, I saw a huge gem winking at me.
In awe, I flipped the envelope around, and on the back was scrawled, “I had no doubt that you would find the candy.”
