“Not that,” I said.
She spun around on her heels, and her chin-length hair flew around her face. Her anger was turned on me, and I couldn’t help but sit back further in my chair. If there was anything I was familiar with, it was Stella’s wrath when she was angry, but the lawyer’s voice broke through the tension before she could get any ideas about breaking my nose.
“I am prepared to read Christian’s mother’s letter. Would you like to stay for it?” the lawyer asked.
And in response, all Stella did was pick up her purse and head for the door. Her footsteps fell heavily on the floor as she headed down the hallway, and the slamming of a door accompanied her furious departure as I let out a breathless chuckle.
“You can take that as a no,” I said.
“Would you care for me to read this aloud, Mr. Gunn?” the lawyer asked.
“Sure, why not,” I said, shrugging.
“My beautiful son,” the lawyer began, “if this letter is being read to you, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not there to see you grow into the man I know you are destined to be.”
“What?” I asked.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t pull the full potential out of you that I saw. From the time you were young, you devoured everything I gave you. Food, drinks, clothes, magazines. You read through my own files from work even though I told you not to and you could spout the facts back to me while only looking at them once. I knew, from the moment you were little, that you had an incredible mind.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose when the lawyer paused. This letter wasn’t anything like the one Stella’s father left her. My mother hadn’t yet said how proud she was of me, and something inside my chest broke.
“School bored you because you were too smart for the classes, but I didn’t try hard enough to get you moved up. You never enjoyed college because you could always outsmart the professors, and I didn’t fight for your chance to stay enrolled. They thought you were being insubordinate, but I knew you were simply being the intelligent boy I’d given birth to. I didn’t fight hard enough for you, and I’m sorry.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat. While Stella’s father’s letter was peppered with praise and adulation, my mother felt the need to continually apologize for not being enough. She felt the need to tell me she was sorry for me not growing into the man she thought I could be, and the thought made me sick.
She died thinking she had been a disappointment as a mother.
“What I want you to know is that I loved you. I loved you from the moment I found out I was pregnant, and that’s why I left your birth father. I swore to myself I’d make sure my child was raised with the best. I found your stepfather and knew he was the best. I knew he would be able to raise you the way your birth father couldn’t, and that was enough for me. I knew your stepfa
ther would be a stable role model that brought you encouragement and smiles instead of pain and hurt. But, in some ways, I feel like even that was a detriment to you.”
My birth father was an abusive asshole. My mother didn’t really talk about him, so the only things I knew about him were the digging I did as I got older. I knew he had a temper, and I knew he had a criminal record. I was able to pull it up and see the laundry list of domestic abuse charges against him. When I realized the type of disgusting man he was, I stopped asking my mother about him. I wanted her to finally be free of him, despite the curiosity I had, and I decided that’s what was best for her.
What was best for us.
“Are you alright for me to continue?” the lawyer asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on,” I said.
“I love you with all my heart, Christian. You’re my baby boy, and I always loved you. I wanted to raise you to be a better man than your birth father could have ever been, but in the process of making you a good man, I neglected to teach you how to be a successful one. Please forgive me, my sweet baby boy. I never meant to stunt you in any way.”
I felt a tear ricochet down my cheek, and I wiped it away before the lawyer saw it. My eyes drifted from the desk to the window, and I paused to take in the wind whipping through the trees. My mother was apologizing to me because she felt my lack of drive was her fault, and I thought I could taste my lunch in the back of my throat. My mother was a good woman, a strong woman. One that loved with a steadfast heart and always had her doors open for anyone to come through. If you were there, she fed you. If you stayed the night, she had clothes for you. If you came in needing a shoulder to cry on, she’d soak up your tears. And then she would feed you so you wouldn’t leave hungry.
My mother died thinking my lack of drive was her fault.
And that shit wasn’t going to fly with me.
“Is there anything else?” I asked.
“Be kind to your stepsister. There’s a reason for everything she does. When your stepfather and I are gone, you two will be all there is. Treat each other kindly, and try to see past your differences. You will be better for it. I love you, my sweet ray of sunshine. Signed, Your Mother,” the lawyer finished.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“That’s it. The company is yours. Your mother didn’t have anything to leave you but the belongings she left in the house,” the lawyer said.
“Then, I guess I better get going,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” the lawyer asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”