Lying to Elle and the vineyard staff would be easy enough; they mean nothing to me. Lying to my mother, on the other hand, would be impossible; I owe her everything.
As I walk in the front door, the low hum of the evening news plays out from the living room. Biting back my anger, I try to reassure myself that there is no way Mom could have known he was so close, at least geographically, all my life. She couldn’t possibly have known he had all that money without making him give us our fair share.
Thoughts of what she kept hidden from me vanish when I see her holding her head in her hands, tears leaking down her cheeks. “Everything okay?” Trepidation weighs heavily on my words as I sit next to her on the horridly ugly floral couch. We’re always in this perpetual state of waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the doctor to call and tell us the cancer is back.
She cranes her head up and the sadness and defeat I expect to see in her eyes isn’t there. Instead, what I see is elated happiness. “The doctor,” she whispers, tipping her head to the phone on the side table next to her.
“What happened? What did he say?” Even I can hear the nervousness in my own words, but when her face splits into a crooked, yet happy smile, I feel the weight of all the “what ifs” wash away.
“I’m in remission,” she croaks through her happy tears. My arms band around her so tightly, I’m afraid I might snap her in half. When she pulls away, she goes over all the details from her conversation with the doctor, but I just hang on to those three precious words we’ve both been waiting to hear.
After taking a deep, cleansing breath, her shiny eyes meet mine, looking right through the happiness of her news. “What’s wrong, hun?”
Thoughts of lying to her or of avoiding the conversation completely fly around the room like lightning bugs on a hot summer night. Mom scans my outfit, before asking, “Didn’t you work today?”
The second those words are out of her mouth, I decide I just have to lay it all out. She looks at me curiously when I say, “I met with a lawyer today.”
“What for?”
r /> Pulling her hands into mine, I try to be as careful as I can saying what I have to say. “Did you know where he was all these years?”
A flicker of recognition registers on her face before she hides it quickly with feigned innocence. “Who?” She tilts her head to the side for added impact, but I can tell she knows what I’m talking about.
“My father.” I’m not going to tiptoe around this any longer. “Did you know he owned Bella Luna’s Vineyard Estate and he rakes in a million and a half dollars a year? Did you know he was less than an hour away from us all these years?” The anger I try so desperately to conceal works its way into my voice as it rises in volume.
Wordlessly, Mom nods her head and all I can manage is a weak, “Why?”
“Oh, honey. There were so many times I wanted to tell you. Honestly, I’m shocked you hadn’t asked about him before now.” She pauses, looking as if she’s thinking over something. “Wait, why now? What happened?”
An exasperating breath huffs past my lips as I scrub my hand over my face. “The lawyer,” I start to explain, but can’t find the words. “He’s gone, Mom. I was asked to go to his will reading today.”
Like a pending storm, I wait on the edge of my seat for something to erupt, for the bubble of her held-back emotions to burst, but nothing comes except the sad smile that graces her face. She looks as if she’s lost in a moment of some blissfully happy memory so I’m reluctant to say anything.
“Tell me about him, please. Because I’m really struggling to make sense of it all.” It’s the pleading quality of my voice that breaks her from her far-away stare. We’d never really spoken about him over the years. Not wanting to make her feel like she wasn’t doing a good job as a single mom, I kept my mouth shut. Sure, had I wanted to know who he was and why he didn’t want to a part of my life, but my desire not to hurt Mom out-weighed that. In a way, I think since he was never a part of our lives, we kept all talk of him to a minimum.
“We were so young, right out of college. We’d just started dating and it became clear that we were heading down vastly different paths.” She twists in her seat and drops her hand to my knee. “He had plans, massive hopes and dreams, ones that he obviously accomplished. There were so many times when you were growing up that I heard the echo of his aspirations in your words.” Deep smile lines crease the corners of her mouth. “He wanted me to get rid of you and I couldn’t bear the thought. I know this might be difficult to hear, but we weren’t in love, so I left and never looked back. He never once contacted me about you, so I just did the best I could.”
That’s a lot to take in; it’s all so vastly different from the wild tales I’d spun in my own head over the years. One way or the other, it all boils down to one thing: she wanted me and he didn’t.
“You did amazing, Mom.” Leaning in, I pop a quick kiss on her cheek. “But why didn’t you ever tell me who he was?”
“I…well…” she stammers, searching for the right words. Sheepishly, she admits, “I didn’t want to lose you.” The weight of her words slams into my chest.
“Listen, nothing could have ever made me pick anyone over you.” And the instant the last word is out of my mouth, I realize my own hypocrisy. After all, that’s what I have to tell her now. She smiles at me, as if to let me know that she’ll be okay with what I have to say, as she asks, “So what about the lawyer?”
“He left me half the estate.”
“And you’re taking it.” Oddly, that her words come out as a statement rather than a question helps to calm me down. A simple nod is all that answer I can give her. “I think you’ll be spectacular, Owen. Just don’t forget where you came from.”
“I’ll only be an hour away.” I try to soften the blow of leaving.
She pats my knee one more time, pushing up from the couch as she does so. “Oh, I know, honey and it’ll be good for you to get away from me and spread your wings.” The guilt I know she feels over me having to come home because of her cancer colors her words. It silences me because I know if I say anything else, about how I’d give it all up again just to take care of her since she’s the only one who’s ever taken care of me, I’ll break down like a little girl.
It’s an awkward end to an awkward conversation, but she drops a hand to my shoulder as she turns to walk out of the room. Placing my hand over hers, I smile up at her as a knot of anxiety unfurls in my gut.
If she had any idea that my true intentions are simply to push Elle out of the company, she’d be anything but proud of me.
***