But Gregory was still legally required to pay child support. Because Gregory was a deadbeat who worked odd jobs under the table, he was always facing jail time.
To keep my son out of prison, I secretly paid his 400 dollar monthly child support out of my own small pension.
I sent the checks to the state agency, knowing Misty was spending them on her own rent and clothes, just so I could protect my family.
I found out later that Misty told Toby I had abandoned him. She told him I had stolen the 250,000 dollar trust fund Arthur left for him. She made him believe I was a selfish old woman who cared more about my savings than my own grandson.
Toby was forced to work 20 hours a week at a grocery store starting at age 14 to buy his own food.
Misty spent her days in Indianapolis, buying designer shoes and leased cars, waiting for the day the trust fund would open.
But Arthur had set up the trust with a strict clause. The funds were locked under my name as trustee until Toby turned 25, unless I signed a release form for his college education.
Misty tried to get the money. Her lawyer, Arthur Vance, sent me 3 separate letters demanding I release the funds for Toby’s care. I refused every time, knowing the money would be gone in a week if I let Misty touch it.
Then came Toby’s 18th birthday.
A Monday morning in Fort Wayne. The weather was gray and cold, rain slapping against the kitchen window. I was sitting at the table, drinking my tea, when the front door opened.
Toby walked in.
He was 18. He was tall, but his shoulders were hunched. He was wearing a thin jacket that didn’t fit, and his eyes were red and swollen.
My heart stopped. I stood up, my chair scraping against the linoleum, and whispered his name.
He didn’t speak at first. He just stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling. Then he walked to the table and set the silver pocket watch down. The metal was scratched, and the cover was loose.
Toby told me she said I hated him and kept the money.
