Brother's Ticket Keeper

The scratch-off ticket was an odd present. Ridley’s brother, Joseph, had stopped exchanging gifts with him when they were teenagers. Ridley felt a little bad that he hadn’t gotten his brother anything, but then again, Ridley was pretty sure the scratch-off was a gag gift.

Or, it would have been a gag gift if Ridley hadn’t won the grand prize - $20,000.

The excitement of winning almost made him forget how uncomfortable he was at the moment. After college, Ridley had made it a habit not to visit his parents’ place too much. His folks were decent people, and Ridley had fond memories of them growing up. But Joseph had paid off their mortgage, and even more recently bought their dad a new Camaro. Ridley made enough to get by, living in a small apartment with roommates just down the street from a college town. For all intents and purposes, he wasn’t much better off than a student. He had so little to offer his parents, and some part of him couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed about it. He’d always thought it was better to stay away.

“You’re always competing with Joe,” his mother would say when they were kids. “There’s no need.”

Ridley had agreed with her then. Honestly, there was no competition and there never had been. Ridley could admit Joseph was talented, and years later, that talent had translated into a well-paid career in finance, an expensive house in an expensive suburb, and money to throw at even the most frivolous of purchases. While his parents had never said anything of the sort to his face, he knew that they measured him up to Joseph, and found Ridley wanting.

Still, he couldn’t find any strong excuses not to go back home for Christmas.

So, Ridley found himself in his mother’s kitchen, turning the scratch-off ticket over and over again his in fingers. The ticket had been wedged inside a cheap Christmas card, which was covered with his brother’s scratchy handwriting.

“Thought you would like something like this,” it read. “When you win big, you should buy yourself a better diary.”

Ridley still had the small, tattered black notebook that Joseph referred to as his diary. It had been a gift from one of his high school teachers, who had told him that writing down goals in a notebook was a good way to actually accomplish those goals. He had found the idea a little silly when he was fifteen, but like most teenagers, he did find enjoyment in doing stupid things, and so had unabashedly written every goal he had into the notebook.

It was old now, a piece of crap held together by tape and string. The faux leather cover was cracked and faded to an off-black, and the pages were smudged with old food stains. Still, his list of goals was still as clear and legible as the day he'd jotted them down.

Ridley read the first goal on the list:

Become rich.

He wondered if the money he had now really counted. The scratch-off ticket was worth more money than Ridley had ever held in his bank account – ever dreamed of having, period. It would be enough money to cover the rest of his school loan debt or start his own business if he really wanted.

Laughter streamed into the kitchen from the living room. The rest of his family were still opening presents. Joseph had gifted him the scratch-off, but Ridley doubted his brother had expected it to be a winning ticket. Ridley wondered if he should say anything. Would it be better to lie to his family, to his brother?

Ridley shook his head a little, before putting the scratch-off in between the pages of his notebook. $20,000 wasn’t going to make anyone rich, but it was a good start. And whether or not Joseph had intended to give Ridley a winning ticket, Ridley did have the money because of his brother. There was no sense in lying, not when the money was probably chump change to someone with Joseph’s salary.

As Ridley walked back into his parents’ living room, Joseph looked up at him with a smirk. “You were in the kitchen for a while there. You must’ve won something, huh?”

“I did, actually,” Ridley said. “Thanks to you, I’m $20,000 richer.”

It was like a dam let loose. His parents were suddenly yelling, and the smirk on his brother’s face disappeared in a flash.

His mother’s hand closed over Ridley’s elbow. “Your brother bought the ticket. It’s his. You should give it back to him.”

“No,” Joseph said, patting her shoulder. “I don’t need it. And Ridley could use a little spending money. So, what are you going to blow it on?”

“I was thinking of taking your advice. You were right – I do need a new notebook.”

A look of anger briefly crossed Joseph’s face. “I was only joking with you. Be serious for once.”

Ridley shrugged. “I am being serious. That was the best suggestion you’ve ever given me.”