“Mom,” Danny said. “No.”
“It’s done.”
“I can’t take this.”
“You already did,” I said, and I smiled at him. “Three months ago. You took in a woman with nothing. For nothing.”
“That’s not… Mom, that’s just what you do.”
“Is it?” I looked across the table at his brother and his sister. “Not everyone does it, honey.”
Danny put the check down on the bedsheet. Then he put his head down on the table next to it, right on his folded arms. His big shoulders started shaking.
I put my hand on the back of his neck, the way I used to when he was small and the words on the page wouldn’t sit still.
Then I turned back to the others.
“Here’s the rest of it,” I said. “So there’s no confusion. And no lawyers.”
Michael actually flinched a little.
“Three million dollars is going into a foundation. In your father’s name. The Walter Dunmore Foundation. Hollis is setting it up. It’s going to help truck drivers who get hurt on the job. And the widows of drivers. And kids coming out of high school who want to learn a trade and need a first set of tools.”
I took a breath.
“Whatever’s left when I go will be split three ways. Even. Between the three of you. In my will.”
Stephanie looked up. Her eyes were swollen.
“On one condition,” I said.
“What condition?” Michael asked.
I looked him right in the eye.
“That you ask.”
He frowned. “Ask what?”
“Ask me how I am. Ask me what I want. Ask your brother how his work is going. Ask Kayla how her day was. Come to a kitchen on a Tuesday, for no reason at all, and sit down at the table.”
Nobody spoke.
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s the whole condition. Ask.”
Stephanie’s face crumpled up like paper.
I closed Walt’s briefcase. I snapped the brass clasps shut.
“The pie’s getting cold,” I said. “Kayla made pecan.”
Nobody ate the pie.
They left about twenty minutes later. Michael shook Danny’s hand at the top of the stairs, very formally, like they’d just closed a business deal. Stephanie hugged me without looking at my face.
Then they were gone. Down the narrow stairs. Past the laundromat. Into their nice cars.
Danny stood at the kitchen window and watched them drive away.
“Mom,” he said quietly, without turning around. “Are you okay?”
He was the only one who asked.
Lila Hart is a dedicated Digital Archivist and Research Specialist with a keen eye for preserving and curating meaningful content. At TheArchivists, she specializes in organizing and managing digital archives, ensuring that valuable stories and historical moments are accessible for generations to come.
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