P.S. It was left unresolved for several reasons, and I don't have an ending in mind.
It was a morning of eggs and pancakes in the Ferdinand household. The aroma of batter and sweet syrup lingered in the air around an elderly couple. However, along with it came the bitter weight of hostility, the kind commonly shared between two spouses engrossed in a domestic altercation. Fred Ferdinand sat with his hands folded in his lap, his spine erect, feigning composure when in actuality he was beginning to feel intimidated by his wife's antics. Maggie was on her feet, standing tall over Fred like an infuriated eagle. Neither of them had so much as nibbled at the food on their plates; Fred due to his inability to consume his breakfast while debating the future of his grandson with an irrational tyrant of a woman; Maggie for the simple fact that her plate had long ago been sent soaring across the room to burst upon impact with the wall. It lay in fragments now, discarded, along with little yellow dots of scrambled eggs and four round flapjacks.
Fred remained constant in his argument despite the ominous feeling in his stomach that told him he knew his wife's reasoning was valid. Maggie was under no such impression. She leaned forward with her hands on the hips of her white dress, stained with orange spots from the glass that had tipped over when her fist had slammed down on the table decisively. She began to barrage her husband with questions. Why should they give money to Josh? Their daughter had decided to give her son away, and they had been a part of that decision, hadn't they? What's more, it was supposed to be a closed adoption; why give money to someone they barely knew? The assault ended with a sharp inhale, and Maggie, having finally exhausted herself, slunk back into her chair as she struggled to catch her breath.