The room erupted into chaos as voices overlapped and chairs scraped loudly.
“What are you talking about?” someone shouted in disbelief.
My father stood up quickly and said, “You have to be joking.”
Uncle Douglas demanded answers while Uncle Raymond tried to sound reasonable, claiming they were only teaching me a lesson without any real harm intended.
Others tried to excuse themselves, saying they were just following along and did not want to upset anyone.
Grandpa’s expression remained completely unchanged.
“You mocked Andrew because he drives a truck,” he said coldly.
My father immediately became defensive and said he was only trying to motivate me to do better, even as his tone revealed the contempt he had always hidden behind excuses.
Grandpa narrowed his eyes and asked, “Franklin, are you not ashamed of yourself?”
My father asked why he should be ashamed, as if the answer was not already obvious.
Grandpa paused briefly before speaking again with quiet intensity.
“Twelve years ago when you went bankrupt, Andrew was eighteen years old and gave up college to become a truck driver so you would not drown financially,” he said.
The room fell silent instantly.