Chapter 25
She was twenty-one now,
finishing college
and working part-time at a bookstore.
We hadn't spoken properly
in nearly two years.
“Hi, Aunt Fay.”
I smiled instinctively.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
She hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
There was a long silence.
“Did Mom really take money
from Grandma and Grandpa
and tell them it was for you?”
I sat down.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Dad told me something happened.
Mom says everyone is twisting it.”
I closed my eyes.
“Willa, I don't want you
caught between your parents.”
“I know.”
Her voice trembled.
“But I need to know
whether something else was true.”
“What?”
She took a shaky breath.
“Mom told me you didn't want
to come to my graduation.”
I went still.
“Your high school graduation?”
“Yes.”
I remembered that June.
A wet, miserable month.
My farm had been dealing
with unusually heavy rainfall.
I had asked Ranata
when Willa's ceremony would be.
She told me
the school was restricting attendance
and the family had already received
all the available tickets.
I had mailed Willa
a graduation card and a check.
Ranata later said
Willa was too busy to call.
“Your mother told me
there weren't enough tickets,” I said.
Willa made a small sound.
“There were six tickets.
Mom said you refused yours.”
I stared at the wall.
The cruelty of it
was almost impossible to understand.
“Willa, I would have loved
to see you graduate.”
She began crying.
“I thought you didn't care.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I pressed my fingers against my eyes.
“I cared so much.”
She cried quietly.
Then she asked,
“Did you send me a card?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
I remembered every word.
I had written it
at the kitchen table
the night before mailing it.
I had told her
how proud I was
of the curious little girl
who once spent an entire afternoon
asking why bees preferred certain flowers.
I had told her
she could build a meaningful life
without needing everyone else
to understand her choices.
And I had included
a photograph of us
standing beside my first tractor.
When I finished describing it,
Willa went silent.
“I never got that.”
I felt my heart sink.
“What?”
“Mom told me
you were having money problems
and couldn't afford a graduation gift.”
For a moment,
I couldn't speak.
The check had been cashed.
My bank records showed it.
I had assumed Willa received it.