by Brie Paisley
Annie shrugs then says, “If so, then Carter can write you a letter of recommendation so you can find another job.” She pauses for a second then adds, “Speaking of letters.” I curiously watch her as she gets up, and walks over to the small table holding all the mail. I twist in my chair wondering what she’s digging for in the pile of junk mail. William is eerily quiet, but I don’t think much of it. William has always been a man of few words. It’s his actions that you have to pay attention to. “Ah-ha! I found it,” Annie proclaims and returns to the table. She glances at me and I tilt my head, trying to figure out what’s going on. She holds a white envelope in her hand and sighs before saying, “I got this letter a few days ago. Remember that nice couple that moved into your old house?” When I nod, she continues. “Well they stopped by here, and they found this hidden in the attic. They also told me to let you know your mom didn’t fully clear it out, and you’re more than welcome to come over to go through it to get whatever you want.”
I feel as if someone knocked the air out of me. How is this even possible? Is the letter from Dad? And why did my mother leave our possessions in the attic? I have so many questions, but no way to get my answers. I refuse to call Mom. I’m completely fine with never speaking to her again, but I’m still so confused about everything. “Who’s the letter from?” I ask.
Annie lowers her head for a moment, then she looks up to me. “I’m not sure. It only says your name, and the couple knew you and your mother were the only people who lived there before them. If I had to guess … I would say it was from your father.”
I sit back in my chair, reeling from this news. It’s nothing I expected to hear today. I lean back up and ask, “Can I see it?” Annie hands the letter to me instantly, and I stand up. “I’m going to read it upstairs.”
Annie reaches out to touch my arm as she says, “If you need anything, we’re right here for you, okay?” I clench my jaw unable to speak. Instead, I nod and turn to William. He looks at me with such concern, and I only manage to give him a small smile before going upstairs to my room.
I close the door behind me gripping the white envelope tightly. I swallow hard, and my stomach feels as if it’s in knots. I’m nervous to open it and scared of what it’ll say. With shaky legs, I walk over to my bed and sit down. I breathe out a loud sigh letting myself look at the letter. It only has my name on the front, as Annie said, and I already know it is from Dad. I remember his manly handwriting so vividly. I swipe my finger over my printed name, and tears start to fill my eyes. It seems like a huge coincidence how I was just thinking about him earlier, and now I’m holding a letter from him. I almost decide not to open it, and almost want to toss it in the trash so I don’t have to deal with the loss of him again. Instead, I close my eyes and think of Carter. He’s not even here but just thinking of what he’d say to me, gives me the strength I need to read Dad’s letter. It’s almost as if I can hear Carter’s voice filling me and giving me the courage I so desperately seek.
You can do this, Shel.
You are not weak. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.
I’m here for you and don’t you ever think for one second I won’t be here when you need me.
I open my eyes, feeling stronger than I ever have. I know I can do this and whatever is written in this letter, I’ll deal with it. Because not only have I grown so much since being back home, but I can always count on the people who love me and they will be here for me. I let the new found confidence I’d thought I would never get rush through me. It makes my heart beat faster and makes my entire body feel lighter just knowing I’m not alone anymore. It’s powerful. It’s remarkable and most of all, it drastically changes me. The way I’ve thought almost all my life has been wrong. I don’t have a clue why it’s happening now, but I don’t question it. I also know, the fear of being hurt again, and the ones I care for letting me down, is something I’ll have to battle every single day.
But not now. No, now I rip open the letter preparing myself for the worst. I take the white paper out of the envelope, and toss it on my bed. Staring at the paper for a moment, I slowly unfold it. It’s most definitely from Dad. I look over his handwriting, realizing how much I’ve missed seeing it. A small thing that one might have forgotten, but not me. I remember every little detail about my Dad. I suck in a much needed breath, then begin to read his letter.
My Dearest Shelby,
If you’re reading this letter, it means I’m no longer a part of your life. Whether it be because you’ve learned the truth about me, or I’ve made another terrible mistake.
I stop reading for a second, already having to blink the tears away. I also notice the date at the top. It’s dated three days before he drove drunk, killing that family, and leaving their daughter without her parents and brother. I brush away a lone tear and continue to read.
There’s so much I’ve wanted to do with you my sweet girl. I don’t know why I’m writing this letter to you. Maybe I wanted to try and explain myself and give you peace of mind. Maybe I wanted you to have something of me after I’m gone. Either way, I hope this letter one day finds you, and it’ll help you understand why you had to endure what your mother put you through for so long.
But before I do that, I wanted you to know how deeply and truly sorry I am for being this way. There are days where I don’t even know who or what I’ve become. Out of all the people I’ve hurt in my life, I never meant to hurt you so much, Shelby. I wanted to be the best father to you. I wanted to make you happy and watch you grow up to be the amazing woman I knew you could be. But I let my addiction run my life. I let the pain of the way your mother treated me and you, control my actions when I should’ve done more. I should’ve been there to stop her from hurting you. I have never regretted anything so much. I missed a lot of time with you my sweet girl and for that, I hope you know I am so very sorry. I know you’re too young to really grasp what is really happening, and I know one day you’ll read this and know the truth.
I stop reading trying to get my bearings. If anything, I’m more confused by his letter before reading it. I yearn to talk to him, and ask what all this means. But I’ll never get that chance. On the other hand, just knowing how much he truly loved me, makes reading his letter a little more bearable.
When I first met your mother, I fell madly in love with her. She seemed so perfect to me, and someone I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But your mother was cunning. She was conniving, and she would do, and say anything it took to get what she wanted. It took me for what it seems like a long time to realize why she wanted to be with me. I know you don’t remember your grandparents before they passed, but they were very wealthy. When they died shortly after you were born, they left everything to me. Your mother began to change after your birth. There were times she’d say the most God awful things, and they’re so bad I cannot even bear to write them now. I just want you to know, no matter how your mother felt about you or me for that matter, I loved you with everything in me. When the nurse placed you in my arms for the very first time, I remember crying with tears of joy. I’d never known what love felt like until I met you my sweet girl. You were my precious gift, and I hate how I’ve become over the years.
About a year after your birth, that’s when I noticed how your mother truly was. She was pure evil and vicious at times. I know when your mother and I married, we were both so young, but I just knew she’d change once she saw you as I had. Sadly, there will never be a reason for your mother to change. She let me know why she married me on multiple occasions rubbing her affairs in my face, but I stayed anyway. That’s when I started to drink. It slowly became my coping mechanism for when your mother would lash out at me. I was so scared my sweet girl that she’d take you away from me. She threatened more than once she would, and I’d never see you again. She knew how much I loved you, and how much it would kill me if I didn’t have you.
It’s no excuse for me drinking and becoming an alcoholic. There’s no reason for it, other t
han I was weak. I knew deep down I could take you, and we could build a new life together, but God help me, I still loved your mother after all she did.
I flip to the next page, wondering what else about my mother I didn’t know about. I knew exactly what Dad meant. I knew first hand that Mom could be downright cruel for no reason at all. I knew what it was like to be constantly teased as a child because she wouldn’t bathe me, or sent me to school in dirty clothes. Mom never laid a hand on me. No, she used her harmful and damaging words. Words so awful that would make anyone step back and want to weep. I don’t blame Dad for staying with her. In a way, I understand exactly what he’s saying. I just didn’t realize how bad it was for him. I realize even with my father’s addiction, he still had enough love for me to shield me from the worst of it.
I still don’t know what to think of my grandparents being wealthy. I didn’t get a chance to know them, but it makes sense as to why Mom stayed like she did. She played my father using me against him in the most unspeakable of ways. I blink my eyes rapidly, making my tears stay away. I don’t want to cry, but God I wish I could hold my father just once more. I wish there was a way I could tell him I forgive him, and how much I loved him. Even when he wasn’t sober, he was my hero. It seems my father and I were more alike than anyone knew. From what we both went through, the mental abuse, and the pain. Maybe that’s why I can understand what this letter means. Maybe that’s why I’m not angry with him. With a heavy sigh, I read what else my father has to tell me.
I hope you know I’m not writing all of this to upset you, or to bring up any unwanted feelings. I need you to know my side. The side I know your mother will never tell you, and I know for a fact she doesn’t want you to know any of this. The day after you turned ten, I changed you to my sole beneficiary. If something happened to me, no matter what the cause may be, you would get everything I had and what my parents left me. It’s a lot of money, Shelby. It’s more than enough that would take care of you for a lifetime. I tried to keep it from your mother, but she found out anyway. She wasn’t happy I would be leaving you with everything, and she hated me for it. I just couldn’t have her treating you the way she did and reap the benefits from me. I left your mother with enough money for her to live very comfortably until you turned eighteen. After that, the money would stop, and she’d have to figure out what she wanted to do.
I also thought one and a half million was too much money to handle for a girl your age.
What the fuck? I reread that last line again and then once more, making sure I read it correctly. I also read over the entire paragraph just to be certain. What money is he talking about? I never knew my father left me anything, let alone knew I was a fucking millionaire. Yes, I knew we had money, but we didn’t flaunt it around like everyone else did.
I split the money into three parts. When you turn eighteen, you’ll receive two hundred thousand. I want to make sure you have more than enough to pay for your college dues, and be able to support yourself at the same time. I know you’ll be smart my sweet girl. I know you’ll never be like your mother. Which is why if and when you get married, the first year you’ll get another part of the money. If you’re still married after five years, the rest will be put into your account. If you need to speak with my lawyer, his name is Henry Willington. He’ll answer any and all your questions by the time you get this letter.
Shelby, I’m so sorry if I’m not there to see you grow up. I’m sorry if I won’t be there to see how many achievements you get, or to see you go through your first heartbreak. I’m sorry if I’m not there to tell you how beautiful you are for your prom. If I miss being there to walk my sweet girl down the aisle, and tell you how lucky your groom is to have you in his life. I know I’ll be missing so much of your life if anything happens to me. I hate I can’t go back in time, and change all the things I could’ve made better. I regret so very much of not being the father you deserved. I do want you to believe me when I say, I do love you my sweet girl.
No matter how much you don’t want to think so, I swear with everything I am that I do. I loved you from the moment you were made, and I’ll never stop loving you, Shelby. Please take care my sweet girl, and know you’ll always be Daddy’s little girl.
With all my love,
Dad.
I let his letter fall to the floor as my tears unleash. I place my hands over my eyes and hold in the bittersweet scream I want to yell out loud. My body shakes uncontrollably, and I try so hard not to let Annie and William know how much Dad’s letter hurt to read. Not because of the way my Mother treated both of us, but because I finally realize he did love me. He just never got the chance to tell and show me. I hate he was drinking and driving the night that cost him his life. I hate I feel cheated out of more time with him. I also wonder if he knew he couldn’t handle life anymore, and just gave up. Did he feel if he left, I would be better off without him? I’ll never get the answers I want or need. He’s gone and there’s not a single fucking thing I can do about it. His letter shows me how much he cared about me, but it still cuts me so deep knowing he didn’t tell me these things, or had enough sense not to drink and drive.
I wipe my tears away and pick his letter off the floor. Now I feel as if I’ve let go some of the hurt I need to figure out what Dad meant about this money. It’s not that I want it, I don’t need it, but something happened to it. That much money doesn’t suddenly disappear, and I have a feeling Mom had something to do with it.
There’s only one person who can help me, and he’s the only one I want to help me at this moment. Carter’s always been the one to make me see the bigger picture, and I know this time won’t be any different.
I walk into Harlow: Attorneys At Law and the secretary, Mary, immediately lets Carter know I’m here. I’m grateful she knows me and does her best to let me to see him. I don’t have to wait long, before he comes out of his office, and I sigh, instantly relaxing when he smiles at me. I move towards him, and he takes me in his arms.
He slowly pulls me back after a few moments and asks, “What’s wrong, Shelby?”
“Can we go in your office and talk?” He nods and leads me inside his office. I watch him tell Mary to hold his meetings and calls, then he slowly shuts the door. I can feel my Dad’s letter burning in my pocket, and I don’t want to burden him right off the bat.
“Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen?” I can’t help but smile up at him. He always knows when something is going on with me. He always has, and I don’t think that trait will ever stop.
“No, nothing really happened,” I stop, and pull out the folded letter from my jean pocket. “Annie gave me this earlier.” I hold it out to him, and he slowly takes it from me. He stares at it, then glances back at me. “She said the couple that moved into my old house found it along with some of my things in the attic.”
“Is this from your Dad?” I nod, and he huffs out a breath. He knows exactly what I went through when Dad died. “You want me to read it?”
“Please. There’s something in there I need you to check out for me. Plus you always know how to put things in perspective for me.”
I can see the pride and how much he appreciates that I came to him with this. It’s not hard to miss the love shining back at me in his eyes. He caresses my cheek with his hand, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into his gentle touch. “Thank you, Shel.”
I frown as I ask, “For what?”
“For trusting me. For coming to me when you needed a shoulder to lean on.”
“Is that what I did?” I say, jokingly.
He chuckles, then leans down to give me a peck on my lips. “Do you want to sit down while I read over it?”
“No. You sit. I’m too antsy.” He kisses me sweetly again, and he takes a seat at the chair in front of his desk.
He begins to read Dad’s letter, and I can’t stop the nervousness from flowing through my veins. I start to pace around the room and bite down on my thumb nail. I glance over at Carter, and wonder what h
e thinks about Dad’s letter. Will he think less of him? Will he feel sorry for him? I shake my head and turn away, knowing these types of thoughts aren’t going to help the situation. I pull my necklace out from my shirt and twirl it with my fingers as I wait for him to finish reading.
To distract myself, I look around Carter’s office seeing his Harvard diplomas hanging on the dark colored walls. It’s a small office, and I wonder if he feels cramped in here when he works all day. He has two tall bookshelves on the left side of the wall with a water cooler in between them. On the other side is a tan couch with fake plants on the each side. He has a huge bay window directly behind his desk, and I smile thinking of him turning around in his chair to look outside during downtime.
I also think about working for him. I know he wants me to, and the money would be a lot better than waitressing. I would love nothing more than to get back to what I love most. Working with numbers. Numbers are easy, simple, uncomplicated, and they rarely surprise you. I’ve always had a knack for math, and it made the most sense for me to major in accounting. Although I’ve never worked in a law firm before, I’m sure it wouldn’t take me long to catch on how Carter handles the business side of it. Maybe I should say yes, and if it doesn’t work out, then I would at least have a sparkling recommendation from him. But I know Carter, and he’d never let me leave if I agreed to work here. I need to make a decision soon, but I’m still unsure about it.
“I don’t know where to begin, Shelby,” Carter says, and I instantly stop my pacing. I take the chair next to his as he folds the letter back up and hands it to me. “How are you handling all this?”
I clutch the paper in my hands, thinking of how to put into words. “It’s strange really.”
“How so?”
“I … I feel free. As if this letter has set all my doubts about how Dad felt about me go. It doesn’t seem like I should be feeling this way, but I am.”
“If that’s how you see it, then it’s not wrong. No one can tell you how to process his letter, and I’m glad you’re taking it better than I thought. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean you’ve come so far from where you were when I first saw you. I told you how strong you were, and I think you’re finally believing in it for yourself.”
