Chapter 2
Truth.
Two weeks after Daddy’s funeral.
I twisted a section of my hair between my fingers, my nerves unraveling with each loop. My scalp prickled under the tension, but I couldn’t help it—it was a nervous but satisfying habit.
“Elliot,” Ma hissed under her breath, leaning toward me. Her carefully manicured nails tapped against the armrest of the chair. “Stop that. If you mess up that pretty hairstyle, what will you do about tonight?”
Well, I was the one who did it, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her as I let go of the curl I was toying with.
She took out her lipstick and began to paint her lips to mask her own nerves. “I swear, all that good hair is a waste on you.”
“It’s just hair, Ma.” I let my hand fall to my lap, biting back a sigh.
Good hair. She’d been saying that for as long as I could remember, as if any other kind of hair was inherently bad.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew better.
Ma was already wound tight, and I didn’t want to be the reason she snapped before we even started the meeting.
It was time to read my father’s will—a task I had put off for far too long. Not that anyone had pressured me to move faster. I was the one stalling, still drowning in grief and unable to face what came next.
The past few days had been a blur of tears, silence, and sleepless nights.
I had quit my job on a whim, unable to endure another day of polite smiles and meaningless tasks.
My apartment had become a tomb of stale air and unwashed laundry.
Most days, I didn’t bother getting out of bed.
I’d even come dangerously close to canceling my engagement party.
Jonathan tried to be understanding, but the tension between us had grown noticeably. I knew he would be disappointed if I called it off, but nothing compared to the wrath of my mother.
Throwing my life away in self-pity is one thing. But embarrassing her with a delayed engagement? Absolutely not.
Ma’s version of compassion was a swift kick back into the world, whether I was ready or not. So here I was, freshly showered and dressed in an uncomfortable pencil skirt, sitting in a stiff chair at the lawyer’s office, trying to appear like I had it together.
Tonight was the engagement party. I’d have to really put on my game face and appear like everything was fine. God forbid anyone noticed that I hadn’t fully bounced back from my father’s death less than a month ago.
The door to the law office creaked open, and Jonathan’s tall frame filled the doorway. We haven’t talked much today. Well, we haven’t talked much at all as of late, but this morning, he didn’t fulfill his routine morning check-ins. I decided to write it off as pre-engagement party nerves.
Strangely, though, Ryan appeared beside him, her face unreadable.
Well, this was new.
Jonathan’s hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her into the room.
“I stopped to get Ry on my way here,” he explained, his voice steady and pleasant as always. Then he glanced at Ryan. “Ryan, do you have something to tell Elliot?”
She looked at him for a second, her eyes filled with regret, though I was not sure why. Slowly, she stepped into the room. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might just walk past me without a word. But then she stopped in front of me, her eyes softening.
“I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, Elliot. And I’m sorry for blaming Daddy’s death on you. I was out of line.”
The words hung in the air, unexpected but not unwelcome. I searched her face for insincerity, but all I found was guilt as she continued to explain herself.
“I was just so mad at you, E. I really wanted to hurt you in any way I could. I wanted you to feel the anger I felt and fall apart the way I did.”
She looked to Johnathan for reassurance. The two of them shared a shameful look that confused me further, but before I could question it, she took my hands in her cold ones and squeezed. “I did a bad thing. Something that I shouldn’t have. And I am so sorry.”
Something felt off, but despite my better judgment, I pushed it down to keep the peace. Nevertheless, I made a mental note to comment on it later.
“It’s okay,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I forgive you.”
She gave me a weak smile before sighing deeply. Ma clapped her hands in approval. “Finally, the dramatics are over, and everything is back to normal.”
Yes, back to normal. I guess that’s what we’re calling this.
“You two have a seat. The lawyer should be here any moment,” she said, waving Ryan and Jonathan to the empty seats beside me.
Ryan nodded, then gave my hands one last squeeze before she stood straight.
Jonathan gave her a reassuring pat on the back before they took their seats next to me at the long conference table.
His hand lingered on Ryan’s shoulder as he guided her into a chair, then slid down to her knee before she pushed it off. I blinked, unsure if I’d imagined it.
Still, I said nothing, pushing yet another thought aside for later.
A few minutes after, the lawyer, a middle-aged man with silver-rimmed glasses and a tired smile, entered the room. He cleared his throat as he sat down in a huff. In his arms was a thick folder, undoubtedly containing the sum of my father’s life.
“Thank you all for coming,” he began. “I understand this is a difficult time for your family, so I’ll get straight to the point. Mr. Elijah Sawyer left a detailed will outlining his wishes. After reviewing it thoroughly, it’s clear that he wanted his estate to be handled in a specific way.”
I sat up straighter, my stomach twisting into knots despite not being interested in my father’s belongings being scattered to the vultures at this table.
“The bulk of Mr. Sawyer’s estate, including his savings account totaling two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, is to be left to Elliot Sawyer,” the lawyer said.
Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. My breath caught in my throat.
Huh?
“What?” Ma’s voice sliced through the uncomfortable quiet.
The lawyer adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Sawyer cited Elliot’s role as his primary caregiver in his final years as the reason for this decision. He was deeply grateful for the care and support she provided.”
Ryan let out a bitter laugh at the irony.
I could hear the voices in her head yelling, ‘Primary caregiver? You mean the woman that let him die?’ I could hear them because they were the same voices yelling at me in this moment.
Instead of releasing what we both thought into the air and ruining the just brokered peace, Ryan settled on, “Are you kidding me?”
“Ryan,” Jonathan said softly, but she shook her head.
“No, seriously,” she said, her voice rising. “Two hundred and fifty grand? Just to her? What about the rest of us?”
My mother’s face had turned a shade darker, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I could’ve used that money to pay off my house,” she said, her voice tight.
“And I could use it for school,” Ryan added, her tone sharp. I rolled my eyes at that pipe dream.
Jonathan’s calm and collected voice chimed in smoothly. “We could finish paying off the wedding with that.”
We, huh?
I glanced at him, my stomach twisting again. His hand had moved from Ryan’s knee to mine. I stared at it, my thoughts scrambling to make sense of what I saw earlier. We seriously needed to have a discussion after the party tonight.
The room descended into chaos, and voices overlapped as my family made their demands—vultures, all of them.
“You can’t possibly keep all that money to yourself,” Ma said, her eyes narrowing at me. “It just ain’t right.”
“I sacrificed too, you know! I helped take care of Daddy,” Ryan added. “I deserve something!”
Jonathan’s hand tightened slightly on my knee. “Think about what this could mean for us, E,” he said, his voice low. “A fresh start.”
I swallowed hard, my voice caught in my throat.
So much for going back to normal.
They saw the money as a solution to their problems, a way out of their struggles. But to me, it was a reminder of the years I’d spent caring for Daddy, watching his health decline, and putting my life on hold to be there for him and for them.
This money was not a gift.
“What do you want to do, Ellie?” Jonathan pushed.
I looked around the room to find all eyes on me. “I just need some time to think,” I said quietly.
Ma scoffed. “Think about what? It’s not like you earned that money on your own.”
Ryan rolled her eyes. “Typical. Elliot always lands on her feet.”
At the small cost of losing my father.
The lawyer cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the room. “I understand this may be unexpected, but these were Mr. Sawyer’s wishes. The estate is legally bound by the terms of the will. There is more if you would like to hear it.”
“Why didn’t you just say that? Go on,” Ryan perked up at the news of a possible ‘award.’
The lawyer opened an envelope and said, “This is a note left by Mr. Sawyer. I will read it to you now.”
We all sat up to hear his words:
“Dear family,
If you are reading this, that means God has finally called me home.
Do not be sad. This is a part of life, and we all knew this day would come.
We can’t control the hand life deals, but we can adapt and pivot.
Stay strong, hold onto each other, and don’t live with regrets as I die with none.
The love I’ve received in this life was enough to span ten lifetimes, and for that, I am eternally grateful.
Now, for the matter of my estates. I, Elijah Sawyer, of sound body and mind, leave with you as follows:
To Ryan, my wild child, I hope the house will teach you responsibility. Once you have completed your degree at community college, the deed will be passed on to you. Until then, the house will be in Elliot’s name.