Chapter 23
before driving me home.
Mom lifted the frame.
Her hand trembled.
“You really were alone.”
I stood beside her.
“Yes.”
She touched the glass.
“I sent money.”
“I know.”
“I thought that was helping.”
I looked at her.
“Sometimes people need someone
more than they need a payment.”
She began crying.
“I know that now.”
I let the silence remain.
Then she said,
“I was afraid you'd reject me.”
I swallowed.
“And I was afraid
you didn't want to be there.”
She looked at me.
“We were both afraid
of something that wasn't true.”
I nodded.
“But you had my phone number.”
She closed her eyes.
“I did.”
That mattered.
I wasn't willing
to transform the past
into a harmless misunderstanding.
Ranata had lied.
But my parents had also chosen
not to verify those lies.
Those choices deserved to be acknowledged.
Mom set the photograph down.
“I won't make that mistake again.”
I looked at her.
“Then call me directly.”
She nodded.
“Even when it's uncomfortable.”
“Especially then.”
For the first time
since the kitchen confrontation,
I stepped forward and hugged her.
She held me tightly.
Not as though she could erase
the years we had lost.
As though she finally understood
how precious the years ahead might be.
We stayed that way
until the pie began sliding
inside its cardboard box.
Mom laughed through her tears.
I caught the box before it fell.
We ate pie standing at the counter.
And when she left,
I realized I hadn't thought about
the thirty-nine million dollars
for several hours.
The money had changed my circumstances.
But that afternoon
had changed something far more personal.
By the sixth week,
my parents' financial position
had become clearer.
Their home-equity loan
was still manageable in the immediate term,
but the payments were straining
their reduced retirement income.
A separate retirement account
had been depleted far beyond
what they'd originally planned.
Miriam and Julia helped them
review their options.
There were assets to preserve.
Expenses to reduce.
Claims to pursue.
And important decisions
they needed to make independently.
I attended the meetings
only when Mom and Dad invited me.
I had no desire
to replace Ranata
as the person who controlled
what they knew about their finances.
Eventually,
Dad asked to speak with me alone.
We sat on his porch
late one afternoon.
The broken railing had been repaired.
He'd fixed it himself.
“Fay,” he said,