My heart broke.
Two weeks before he died, James was still playing board games with our boys in his hospital room.
“Daddy, you promised to play dolls with me!” Lily complained.
“And I always keep my promises,” he laughed.
I didn’t know how badly I’d wish those words were true.
Two weeks later, I held his hand as he died.
Nothing worked.
Half our small town attended the funeral. As the last guests were leaving, I stood beside his casket, unable to say goodbye.
That’s when a boy of about fourteen approached me.
His eyes were red from crying, but I’d never seen him before.
“Are you here with your parents?”
He handed me an envelope. “Your husband asked me to make sure you got this’.”
I’d wish those words were true.
“How did you know my husband?”
“I’ve known him my whole life. Please read it.”
Inside was a letter in James’s handwriting.
‘My darling, I owe you an explanation. Noah is my family. He lives with my mother. Please visit her at the address below. There’s something you need to know.’
Tears blurred the words.
I’d never seen him before.
***
For twenty years, James’s parents had wanted nothing to do with us.
Once, I’d asked James, “Why didn’t your parents come to our wedding?”
“You know we don’t speak.”
“They haven’t even met our children. I’ve sent invitations, Christmas pictures, everything. They never respond.”
“Then stop sending them.”
‘There’s something you need to know.’
“But your father owns several businesses. You walked away from all that money. Why?”
“Because I wanted nothing to do with him.”
“What happened between you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But they’re your family.”
They never respond.
“Not anymore.”
“James, what did they do?”
“Please, Elizabeth. Leave it alone.”
He never told me why they’d stopped speaking.
So why had he sent me to his mother now?
They’re your family.
***
I pulled myself back to the present and looked at the boy standing in front of me.
“Who are you?”
“James wanted Grandma to explain.”
“Grandma?”
He nodded, handed me a phone number, and walked away.
And suddenly, I wondered if the man I’d loved for twenty years had been hiding an entirely different family from me.
Why had he sent me to his mother?
***
The next morning, I left the children with my mother.
“Are you sure you should drive?” she asked.
“I need answers.”
“About that boy?”
“About everything.”
James wanted Grandma to explain.
“Elizabeth, you haven’t slept. Are you sure you should go alone?”
“I negotiated with difficult clients for fifteen years, Mom. I can handle one elderly woman.”
“Not when you’re grieving.”
“Then she’d better not test my patience.”
About everything.
***
An hour later, I drove through iron gates toward an enormous mansion.
I called Mom.
“You won’t believe this house.”
“Is it that big?”
She’d better not test my patience.
“Mom, we borrowed money for James’s treatment while his mother was living in a palace.”
“Elizabeth, please don’t start a fight.”
“Then she’d better have some good answers.”
I knew James’s family had money. I just hadn’t realized how much.
His mother was living in a palace.
I rang the bell.
An elderly woman opened the door.
She looked at me, covered her mouth, and started crying.
“Oh, Elizabeth.”
“Margaret?”
I just hadn’t realized how much.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You’re twenty years late.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Did you know James was dying?”
“Yes. I offered to pay for his treatment, but he refused.”
I’m so sorry.
“And you accepted that?”
“I spent twenty years waiting for him to forgive me. When he got sick, I realized I’d wasted too much time.”
“He was your son!”
