All the drinking,partying, and numbing myself by focusing on cars that I did in Crescent Falls was the calm before the storm. When I got back to Diamond Cove, it hit me that my mother was dead. Like, she was dead for real. I never cared for the closure that people used to speak about. She didn’t want anything to do with me, and I didn’t want anything to do with her. I didn’t ask to be born. There was nothing that I could have done to her to warrant her behavior towards me. For that reason, I always felt I was good without an explanation. But knowing that she was gone and never coming back hit different. I wasn’t sure if I was crying because she was dead or because I would never get answers, but I spent two days alternating between bawling my eyes out and sleeping.
My mind, body, and soul were exhausted. Initially, I refused to cry over Lucci. ‘Cus fuck him. But I was almost certain that some of the tears that I shed on my mother’s behalf had something to do with him also. When my aunt texted me and asked if I was going to attend my mother’s funeral, a simple no was all she got. My pain was teetering on the edge of anger, and I was practically praying that someone would hit me with that ‘shewas still your mother line,’ so I could give them the cursing out that I’d never be able to give her.
I was in bed, curled in a fetal position, staring at the wall when my doorbell rang. I didn’t even blink. I continued to lay there still as a statue until the person at the door pressed the bell again. Kissing my teeth, I pushed the covers off my body aggressively and stomped toward the door. When I realized who the person on the other side of the door was, my facial muscles relaxed.
“Hey, daddy,” I opened the door for him. My tone was somber. There was no need to front for him. He knew me better than I knew myself. I didn’t miss the fact that he had a large manila envelope in his hand.
“Hey, baby. How are you?”
I couldn’t take the way he was peering at me, so I pivoted and walked over to the couch. I didn’t want to get all deep. The heaviness that I was feeling was too much. I wanted to forget about it not talk about it.
“I guess that’s a dumb question.” He joined me on the couch.
“Why though? Why shouldn’t I be okay? She didn’t care about me, so why should I care about her?”
“Breezy, you are a human with human emotions. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to be like her. You’re you, and that’s what makes you amazing. I’ve never tried to speak for your mother. I wanted her to open her mouth and talk for herself. I didn’t get that, but hopefully, she chose to rectify something. I was instructed to give you this. Your aunt called me. She went over to the house and got it. I’m assuming that it has something to do with money because she didn’t want your grandmother getting a hold of it.”
I eyed the envelope that my father extended toward me. Curious about what was inside, I took it.
“Unless you need me, I’ll leave you alone to look at whatever it is.”
“I’m good. Thank you, daddy. I love you.”
He leaned down and hugged me tight before leaving. My heart drummed in my chest as I stared at the envelope. What could it be? My mother had literally never given me a thing. Not a birthday card, birthday present, or even change for the ice cream truck. I never needed for anything, but that wasn’t the point. Nothing. I could never recall one thing my mother gave me, and that was the reason I was pissed that I cried over her. In my opinion, human or not, she didn’t deserve my tears.
With a sigh, I opened the envelope and pulled the papers out that were stapled together. My eyes darted over the words, and it only took a few seconds for it to register what it was. A life insurance policy, and I was the sole beneficiary. My jaw slacked at the amount. Five hundred and seventeen thousand dollars. I eyed the amount over and over again. I couldn’t believe it. I read every single word typed on the five page document because what the hell? There had to be some kind of mistake, but it wasn’t. My mother had taken the policy out on herself ten years ago.
That was enough money for me to get my house and fully decorate it with all new things. I wasn’t buying the house cash. Hell no. I needed a cushion set aside for a rainy day, but I would put at least $250,000 down on the house and pay off my car. I stopped myself from smiling. Was it wrong that I was excited?
I’d never want to benefit from someone’s death, but she was gone, and she made me her beneficiary. I was definitely shocked, but I refused to feel bad. Her ass had finally given me something. Something that would help set me up in life. The money that I was going to put down on my house would get me a lower mortgage than I’d anticipated. I did pretty well on a monthly basis, so having a large safety net in the bank, no car paymentfor a while, and a mortgage that wasn’t too much higher than the rent I was already paying would put me in a very good position.
I peeked inside the envelope to see if anything else was inside and it was. A smaller white envelope was nestled at the bottom, and I pulled it out. My name was written on the front in cursive. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized, I’d never seen my mother’s signature. She had been alive and well for my entire life. In the same city as me, and she’d never signed one report card or permission slip. My sadness quickly turned into anger. Fuck feeling bad about being happy. The moment that money was deposited in my account, I was going on a shopping spree. I was going house shopping, furniture shopping, bag shopping. Maybe get a nice lil’ Chanel purse. I had been paying off all my debt in preparation for buying a house. Credit cards with five figure limits were paid off.
I had the cash and the credit, and I was going to have a mother fucking ball. On her dime. I ripped the envelope open and pulled out a sheet of paper. Holding my breath, I took in the words.
Breezy,
If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. Sounds like something they say in the movies, right. Only in death could I have the courage for you to know the truth. Every day of my life almost since the moment your father put me out, I was called a dead beat by someone. Too many people knew I had a beautiful daughter that I left with her father, and I was shamed for it often. I’m notcomplaining. I deserved it. I’m not putting anything in this letter to hurt you. I just finally needed you to know my truth. I never wanted children. I got pregnant at sixteen, and I didn’t have to think twice about getting an abortion.
After the abortion, I began taking birth control. I knew your father wanted a child, and he knew that I didn’t want kids. He threw my birth control pills away, and I made an appointment to get on the Depo shot. Rather than me being smart and refusing to sleep with a man that I knew wanted a child, I gave in to him a few times because my appointment was two months away. By the time I went, I couldn’t get it because I had a positive pregnancy test.
I was crushed, and your father refused to give me money for an abortion. I felt trapped, and I began to hate him. It was nothing personal against you, but I felt I had the right to not want kids, if I didn’t want kids. I take responsibility for my part in it, however, because your father never raped me. I had sex with him willingly. I was livid for the first month or so, but he began promising me that he would take care of me, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
I decided to give it a try. I swear I did. I even got excited. But when you were born, all I saw was him free to do whatever he wanted to do while I was stuck inside the house every day with a baby that I never wanted, and my resentment began to fester. Not against you but him. When he told me to leave, I did so gladly. I didn’t feel I was wrong for leaving you because you were the child that he so desperately wanted. I know I’m wrong. I know I wasn’t shit. I probably traumatized you, and for that I am sorry. I am so sorry. I just need to you to know that it was never ever your fault.
Lia.
I tossed the letter aside and cried like a baby releasing years of confusion, feelings of rejection, anger, and sadness. All I ever wanted was to know why, and she had damn sure told me. Now, did I shift the anger to my father for insisting she have a child that she didn’t want? I was tired. Freakin’ exhausted. I didn’t care to dwell on whatever it was that my parents had going on. My mother was gone. She had never really been in my life and letting her death bother me was something I refused to do. She didn’t want a kid. She was never a mother. Cool. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
My father knew she didn’t want a child, and he insisted that she have me. He was a great father, but him not making better choices about who he procreated with caused me a lifetime of heartache. I didn’t see the reasoning behind her keeping me tomake my father happy only to ultimately neglect me and then get put out by my father and scar me in the process. Life could have been worse though. That was the only way that I could look at it. I grabbed my laptop so I could start looking for houses. My mother wasn’t shit to me in life, but at least she did her big one in death.
I cradled my phone between my ear and shoulder while sifting through the rack of shirts in front of me. “What color is your dress going to be? I think it’ll be better if we coordinate.”
My brows snapped together. “What dress?” I asked Gavin confused.
“Your dress for the gala. You already have a date?”
“Um, what if I did? How are you going to just ask me what color my dress is and say we need to coordinate, and you haven’t even asked to accompany me?” I chuckled. I hadn’t thought about a date for the gala. I didn’t really need one if I was being honest.
