For years I have asked myself that question. And it pains me to admit this, dear daughter, but I’m still not sure of the answer.
Regardless, I married her. And I have spent the last two and a half decades lying in the bed I made.
I don’t regret honoring my vows to her even after it became clear she carried around a multitude of monkeys on her back. I promised to stand by her side through sickness and health, and that is what I have tried my best to do. What I do regret is that you and Andy suffered as a result of my decision.
My only excuse is that I kept thinking I would find a balance, a way to take care of all of you. Except in trying to take care of all of you, I fear I couldn’t truly take care of any of you.
I hope, with this will, I can remedy that in some small way.
I have set up a trust in your mother’s name that will provide her with enough money to live comfortably, but not so much money that she can live recklessly. And I have put aside additional funds that she may use only on therapy and rehabilitation.
The bulk of my estate, however, I am leaving to you. You have always had a kind and generous heart, Mia. I know you will use the money in good health and for good causes.
All my love, Daddy.’
“You selfish brat!” Hatred flamed so hot in her mother’s eyes that Mia felt like her own heart was burned to ash by it. “I cannot believe Richard left everything to you! It’s not fair. It’s not right!”
“He didn’t leave everything to me, Mom.” Mia struggled to keep the tremor that gripped her body from coming through in her voice. “He left plenty for you to—”
“Plenty? Plenty?” Jane snarled. “Are you kidding me? I can only afford to get a manicure every two weeks. I have to wait a whole month between appointments to have my hair highlighted. And did you know the man at the Mercedes dealership told me I couldn’t afford the payments on an S-Class? I had to get the E-Class this year, Mia. The E-class.”
Jane said this with the same derision others might use if they’d been forced to eat warm, worm-filled dirt.
“Is this truly the thanks I get after I spent twenty-five years of my life catering to your father’s every whim?” Jane demanded.
Mia knew it was a rhetorical question, so she didn’t bother answering. Although, in her head, she pointed out that never once had she seen Jane cater to anyone’s whims but her own.
Jane pointed a pink-tipped finger at Mia’s nose. “You want it all for yourself. Admit it.”
“No.” Mia shook her head. “I haven’t touched a dime of that money. And I won’t. I plan to donate it to charity once I find one I really like. One that helps kids in trouble.”
Jane gasped. “It’s a travesty to give all that money away when I need it. When it’s rightfully mine!” Her mother slammed her hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.
Despite trying to add some volume behind it, Mia’s voice came out as nothing more than a raw whisper. “I’m going to make the donation in Andy’s name.”
Jane recoiled. “How dare you even speak his name after what you did to him!”
It wasn’t only Mia’s heart that was ash then. Every inch of her skin burned. A terrible heat gathered behind her eyes.
“This was a mistake.” She grabbed her purse and pushed up from the table. But she had to place a hand on the back of the chair to steady herself when the room spun.
Closing her eyes, she started counting to ten. It was something she’d learned to do as a child when her world spiraled out of control and felt helpless to do anything about it.
Eight...Nine...
Once she reached ten, she swallowed the bile burning the back of her throat, opened her eyes, and turned to leave.
“Don’t you turn your back on me, you ungrateful little shit!” Jane yelled at her. “I’m your mother!”
Mia swung around. For the first time in her life, she told the woman who’d birthed her exactly what she thought.
“No, you aren’t,” she hissed, fully aware she was crossing a bridge and burning it behind her. “You never have been. I had nannies and housekeepers who showed me more affection than you ever did. Granny Susan, rest her soul, was the one who raised me. She was the one who loved me.” She hated that her voice caught on a sob. “If anyone was ever my mother, it was her!”
“How was I supposed to love you after what you did?” Jane seethed.
Her mother’s words ripped at the tattered remains of Mia’s already shredded spirit. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for anything. But I’m not the only one to blame for what happened to Andy. What about your role, Mother?”
Jane’s eyes narrowed to bare slits. “What do you mean my role? I never did anything to Andy!” she screeched her protest.
Before Mia could sputter a response, their waiter scurried over, looking scandalized. Gene and Georgetti’s was a classy place, and they expected their clientele to act accordingly. “Ladies!” he hissed. “Might I suggest you take this outside?”
“No.” Mia lifted a shaky hand. “I’m done.” She turned away before Jane could see the tears standing in her eyes.
“I’ll take a glass of Chardonnay. And make it a big one,” Mia heard her mother tell the waiter as she made her way to Gene and Georgetti’s front door.
Her phone chimed, dragging her out of the horrible memory.
Carter: Still there?
Mia: Yeah. Sorry. Got distracted. Need to head to airport now. Take care.
Turning off her alerts because she didn’t have the mental or emotional energy to answer Carter’s question about making a trip to Chicago should he decide to reiterate it, she looked up from her phone to see Romeo and Doc still trading barbs.
“I said,” Romeo stressed, “you have a face that would make onions cry.”
“You don’t have to repeat yourself, I ignored you the first time,” Doc came back. “I was just being quiet because I was visualizing the duct tape I’d like to slap over your mouth.”
Mia saw Romeo’s shoulders quake and then both men were laughing and embracing, whacking each other on the back with hard blows that made her wince even as they made her smile.
After briefly falling into the rabbit hole that was the dysfunction of her family, it felt good to emerge back into a world where people were kind and honorable and loved each other freely.