Chapter 20 #2
Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted the responsibility of keeping it safe, but he didn’t want to refuse it either. At the bottom of the box were a couple folders stuffed with paper and a handful of children’s books.
“Mostly that’s your schoolwork. It was fun to look through it. There’s a paper in there you wrote about dogs. You should read it later. Grab the top book though, will you?”
Kurt did. It was worn, and the cover was half torn off. The cover picture was a cartoon drawing of a beach and an old lady and a little boy. Memory rushed over him. Nana’s singsong voice tickled his ears. How many times had she read it to him?
“I remember stopping by their house for one thing or another after I moved out and hearing her read it to you at bedtime. Do you remember it?”
Kurt nodded. He remembered the book more clearly than the trip to Disney World. It was about the adventure of a boy and his grandmother on the Oregon coast. It was a simple book, but Nana had loved it, so he’d loved it too.
“It always made me jealous, but she used to want to take you there. Just you and her. She was my mom and you were my kid, and it made me jealous. But I want you to know I’m sorry it never happened.”
Kurt shook his head. “I’m sure she forgot about it.”
“I don’t know if it’ll help or hurt, but it was actually one of the last things I remember her saying to me. It was maybe a week before she died. Like a premonition or something. She said it was one of her only regrets, that you two had never gone to the coast together.”
Kurt shook his head. He didn’t want to hear anything else Sara had to say. Nana was gone, and there was no use stirring up the past. Did you hear that, you idiot? You’re starting to sound like the Colonel.
“Kurt, I have no real delusions about who raised you. I’ve got my game face off today, and when I put it back on, you may never hear this again, but my mom did an extraordinary job. You are this miraculous, amazing young man because of her. I know it. William knows it. You know it.”
“What’s this about, Sara?” He flipped absently through the book, his jaw so tight that his teeth hurt. Two envelopes fell out of the book onto his lap. One was letter-sized, the other large enough to hold a thin stack of unfolded paper. Both were sealed.
“It’s about what I have to say next, actually.”
“And what’s that?”
“My mom’s father died not long before she did, believe it or not. He was ninety-three. A cousin of hers came up from Guanajuato a month before her accident. My mom wasn’t exaggerating, Kurt. Her family owns half a village.”
“Did you meet her cousin?”
“Yes. He was nice. Different. Really different. Old world and sophisticated. It explained a lot to me about why Mom was the way she was, always in a dress and collecting crystal and lace and whatnot.”
“Did it make her happy or sad, seeing him?”
Sara took a measured breath. “Happy mostly, a little nostalgic too. She intended to tell you. She talked to me about it a lot.”
“About what?”
Sara drummed her fingers on her knee. “About the money, Kurt. She was given a nice chunk of money.”
“No shit? What’s William got to say about that?”
“No surprises there. He doesn’t want anything to do with the money.
It’s for us to split as long as we don’t do anything wasteful, which I keep thinking coincides pretty perfectly with this,” she said, motioning to her surgical site.
“I’m forty-four, and this death scare got me thinking that the only real thing I ever did of any importance was give birth to you.
Let’s face it, finishing high school doesn’t account for much.
Neither does waitressing or shacking up with my fair share of the U.S. armed forces.”
One side of Kurt’s mouth pulled into a smile. “You mean a lot to a lot of people, Sara. That counts for something.”
“But not to me.”
He sat the book on the edge of the table next to the box and leaned against the couch. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“That’s the burning question. If it wasn’t for this scare, I probably would have wasted my half if William didn’t stop me. I’ve been taking this time to myself to think things over. Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Of course.”
“I love clothes, and I like to run things. You know I run that diner, even though I don’t get paid to do it. I was thinking of taking a few business classes and opening an upscale resale shop. They’re all the rage now.”
“I think that would be perfect for you. It makes me happy to hear you say it. William will be too, I’m sure.”
“He said he’d help me get the space ready for customers, so I think that pretty much counts as his approval.”
“I’d say so.”
“Aren’t you going to ask how much we’re getting?”
Kurt dragged a hand through his hair. He had a strange feeling everything was about to change, and he stifled a desperate urge to shove everything back in the box and head out the door. “Honestly, I’m still trying to digest the fact that in the end, Nana wasn’t cut out of her father’s will.”
“I think the whole affair ended up being pretty complicated. It was her sister’s last wish that she be included. She passed away a year or so before their father.”
“So how much did they give her?”
“Nine hundred and thirty-two thousand.”
Kurt choked on the water he was taking a swig of. “Dollars? Not pesos? You’re sure?”
“If it was a million pesos, I don’t think we’d be planning much of anything.
The money’s in Mom and Dad’s account. Mom never spent a dime, and Dad won’t either.
He wants to visit an estate lawyer to minimize taxes, but if you’re doing the math, it’s safe to say you’ll have over four hundred thousand dollars to spend however you’d like.
All the details are in the big envelope.
And I’m telling you right now that you should start your own K-9 training rescue team or something of the sort. You’re too good with dogs not to.”
Kurt sat against the couch, his hands resting loosely against his thighs as Sara picked up her burrito and began to nibble again. She poked his knee with her bare toe.
“Or you could marry Kelsey and throw a big, ostentatious wedding and get her to start popping out babies right quick, because I think there’s a good chance I’ll be a much better grandma than I was a mom. But no pressure.”
Her efforts to lighten the mood weren’t going to work.
He was numb from his fingers to his toes, and his mind was racing.
It was too much to process. His mother’s possible turnaround.
His grandmother’s family coming out of nowhere.
A hell of a lot of money. That was when it hit him. “Then what’s in the small envelope?”
Her smile faltered long enough for him to see this one made her nervous, not excited. She set the burrito down and sipped her Coke. Kurt waited, forcing a patience he didn’t feel.
“I found him, Kurt.”
She was looking at the table, not him, and her voice was soft. It took Kurt a minute to process her words. He played them over and over while she fidgeted with the tie string of her pants.
“I didn’t think it could ever happen,” she said into the silence. “I didn’t think the world was small enough, but it turns out it is. I mean, we lived in Texas even.”
Kurt swallowed hard and leaned forward, pressing his thumbs into his temples.
He wanted to drown out her words, wanted her to stop talking.
His stomach flopped like a fish on land.
All these years he thought knowing was an impossibility.
Thought he’d never know more than a handful of nonessential details.
His father’s name was Kurt. He had brown eyes and a kind smile.
He was from North Carolina, and he wasn’t in the military.
He was also the only guy she slept with the month Kurt was conceived.
“A friend of his—one of the guys he was hanging with the night we spent together—came into the diner. I wouldn’t have recognized him from a hundred thousand other worn-out ex-soldiers coming to the post for a weekend brush of nostalgia.
But he recognized me. He gave me a name and a number.
He told me a little about what your father’s doing now, if you’d like to know. ”
Kurt held up his hand and shook his head. “You know his name? His last name?”
“Yeah. His friend even had a picture on his phone. The resemblance was undeniable.”
Kurt dragged his fingers through his hair. He crossed over to a window, not able to open it fast enough even though it was only in the midfifties outside. His skin was hot, burning even, and his fingers and toes were humming with electricity.
“Does William know?”
“Yes.”
“What’d he say?”
“He’s too much like you to say much of anything.”
“Did Nana know?”
“No, this happened after.”
Kurt walked into the kitchen and braced himself against the counter, drumming his fingers on the Formica. “I’d like to think about it.”
“I understand. There’s no rush. Look, if you decide not to open it, no one’s going to blame you. This is yours to do with as you wish.” Sara stood up and placed the book, picture frame, and letters back in the box.
“Don’t put that letter in there. Not if I’m supposed to take that stuff with me. Keep it here. I’ve got to think about it, and I don’t want it with me while I do.”
“That makes sense.” She sank back to the couch like she was overcome with a wave of fatigue. “Kurt, should I not have told you?”
He drummed his fingers some more. “No, I’m glad you did.”
“It doesn’t have to change anything, if you don’t want it to. But it might also offer you some clarity. Think about it.”
“I will.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the cool Formica counter. Most of his life, he’d have given pretty much anything for this news. Now that the impossible wasn’t impossible, it felt like he’d been handed Pandora’s box.
He was a soldier. He’d been trained to stand his ground and fight. To face any adversary head-on. Bravery was in his blood. So why the hell did hearing this make him want to run and run and never stop running?