heard the whispered words come out of the teen’s mouth, but they didn’t make sense. Dead? How could Lynette be dead? Lacy had always lived in a world where Lynette existed somewhere out there, perhaps thinking of the daughter she’d left and maybe considering a way to make it up to her. That pipe dream had lived in the back of her mind for the better part of twenty years. In the forefront, however, anger and resentment clouded any affectionate feelings a daughter should feel for her mother. But dead? Now there would be nothing. No closure, no satisfaction of writing her mother a heated letter. An overwhelming sense of incompleteness consumed her, as if something had been taken from her all over again.
Lacy cleared her throat, trying to swallow the lump that made its way from the pit of her stomach.
“How-how long has she been gone?” The words came out hoarser than she’d anticipated.
A tear slowly ran down Megan’s flawless cheek. She pulled a tissue out of her white clutch purse and carefully blotted the moisture away so as not to ruin her perfect makeup.
“About seven months,” Megan replied on another strained whisper. “Afterward, when I was dealing with her will, her lawyer told me about two letters she’d written sometime before she died.” She placed her little purse on the table and pulled out two white envelopes. “One is addressed to me and the other…” With one baby-pink manicured fingernail, Megan slid the envelope across the table. “Is for you.”
Scrawled in small, loopy handwriting was her name in black ink. Lacy didn’t take the envelope right away. She stared at her name, trying to picture her mother dragging a ball-point pen across the paper. So many things tumbled through her mind; Lacy couldn’t make sense of anything. Confusion and hurt were the two main things squeezing her heart until the organ almost beat out of her chest. Lynette was the most elusive, difficult person to understand. Why would she abandon her only child, move to California , birth another child, then give this obscene amount of money to the daughter she gave up? None of this made sense.
“You don’t have to read it right away.” Megan’s voice had become a little bit stronger. “I almost wish I hadn’t read mine.”
Lacy pulled her brows together as she gazed at her half-sister. “Why?”
The younger girl rolled her lips. “I didn’t know about you until after she died. I was completely shocked when I read this,” she said, holding up her envelope. “I couldn’t believe she had another child that she’d given up.” Megan turned her blue eyes to Lacy. “The mother I knew would never have done anything like that. She just wasn’t that kind of person.”
“Maybe she wasn’t that kind of mother to you, but she was to me.”
Two perfectly shaped, honey-colored brows pulled worry lines in Megan’s forehead. “How old are you?”
Thrown off-balance by the question, Lacy could only stare for a moment. “Twenty-eight.”
“Geez, you’re almost ten years older than me.” Megan ran a hand through her highlighted tresses. “Why do you think she did it? Why did she leave you?”
That was the six-million-dollar question Lacy would never know the answer to. “I’ve spent almost my entire life asking myself that question.” She moved her focus to the check Megan had handed to her earlier. Lacy picked it up for Megan to see. “Why did you give me this?”
“That’s a little bit harder to explain. I had to read my letter three times before it made sense.” Megan toyed with the corner of the envelope. “Twenty million dollars was part of the inheritance my dad left for Mom when he died. In my letter, she left very clear instructions that I was to find you and give you half. She wanted you to have it.”
So she could ease her guilt for leaving? Did she even feel guilty? What the hell was Lacy supposed to think about this? Yes, this money would solve all her financial problems. How
Lacy cleared her throat, trying to swallow the lump that made its way from the pit of her stomach.
“How-how long has she been gone?” The words came out hoarser than she’d anticipated.
A tear slowly ran down Megan’s flawless cheek. She pulled a tissue out of her white clutch purse and carefully blotted the moisture away so as not to ruin her perfect makeup.
“About seven months,” Megan replied on another strained whisper. “Afterward, when I was dealing with her will, her lawyer told me about two letters she’d written sometime before she died.” She placed her little purse on the table and pulled out two white envelopes. “One is addressed to me and the other…” With one baby-pink manicured fingernail, Megan slid the envelope across the table. “Is for you.”
Scrawled in small, loopy handwriting was her name in black ink. Lacy didn’t take the envelope right away. She stared at her name, trying to picture her mother dragging a ball-point pen across the paper. So many things tumbled through her mind; Lacy couldn’t make sense of anything. Confusion and hurt were the two main things squeezing her heart until the organ almost beat out of her chest. Lynette was the most elusive, difficult person to understand. Why would she abandon her only child, move to California , birth another child, then give this obscene amount of money to the daughter she gave up? None of this made sense.
“You don’t have to read it right away.” Megan’s voice had become a little bit stronger. “I almost wish I hadn’t read mine.”
Lacy pulled her brows together as she gazed at her half-sister. “Why?”
The younger girl rolled her lips. “I didn’t know about you until after she died. I was completely shocked when I read this,” she said, holding up her envelope. “I couldn’t believe she had another child that she’d given up.” Megan turned her blue eyes to Lacy. “The mother I knew would never have done anything like that. She just wasn’t that kind of person.”
“Maybe she wasn’t that kind of mother to you, but she was to me.”
Two perfectly shaped, honey-colored brows pulled worry lines in Megan’s forehead. “How old are you?”
Thrown off-balance by the question, Lacy could only stare for a moment. “Twenty-eight.”
“Geez, you’re almost ten years older than me.” Megan ran a hand through her highlighted tresses. “Why do you think she did it? Why did she leave you?”
That was the six-million-dollar question Lacy would never know the answer to. “I’ve spent almost my entire life asking myself that question.” She moved her focus to the check Megan had handed to her earlier. Lacy picked it up for Megan to see. “Why did you give me this?”
“That’s a little bit harder to explain. I had to read my letter three times before it made sense.” Megan toyed with the corner of the envelope. “Twenty million dollars was part of the inheritance my dad left for Mom when he died. In my letter, she left very clear instructions that I was to find you and give you half. She wanted you to have it.”
So she could ease her guilt for leaving? Did she even feel guilty? What the hell was Lacy supposed to think about this? Yes, this money would solve all her financial problems. How
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