A man came to read us father’s will. Mother was left with everything – his savings, his patents and his stake in Cerecon Solutions. Actually, he left it to both of us. But I wouldn’t get any of it unless if mother was dead or somehow incapacitated. Plus, I would have to be at least eighteen.
Throughout the reading, mother only showed a blank stare. Everything must remind her that her husband is gone. Just when she retreats into herself to try to move on, the doorbell rings, only to remind her that her husband is dead and things will never be the same. I honestly don’t know if she heard anything the lawyer said.
“What should we do now?” she asks me.
The lawyer just left, but she still has a blank stare.
“What should we do about what?”
She looks at me. There is sadness in her eyes. They have been this way for so long that I now struggle to remember how they have always been.
“Your father’s stake in Cerecon.”
“What else is there to do? I think we should keep it, manage it some day.”
“I think we should sell it to Noel,” she says curtly.
I’m surprised that she could even consider it. But I don’t think she has just decided this. She must have thought about it for a while.
“We can’t do that. That was his life’s work.”
The only thing now left of him.
“Yes, and now he is gone. I don’t know anything about your father’s business, I have my job and I have to take care of you.”
“I know what he did,” I say desperately.
I was supposed to join him one day. I was meant to take over from him.
“Because he took you a couple of times to his office?”
You were not there. You don’t understand. He did it for us – it was our thing, the one thing we would always share. And now you want to take it away from me.
“We must be realistic. It’s probably better for the company if Noel just took over.”
I study her now. Has she already spoken with him? The thought twists my guts.
“I can take care of myself you know.”
“What?” she says, looking confused.
“You said you had to take care of me. I can look after myself. I’ve been doing just fine for the both of us for over a week now.”
Don’t factor me in your decision to abandon father’s legacy.
She falls silent.
“That’s not the issue,” she says quietly.
“So what’s the issue then? That you don’t want any reminders of him to the point that you’re willing to let go of his legacy?”
She winces, and I immediately regret saying it. But I still can’t let her do it.
“He left his company to both of us. I don’t want to sell.”
“You are hardly eighteen.”
“So why are we discussing this? You’ve already made up your mind.”
I immediately leave the living room and go upstairs to my room. I lock the door and lie on my bed.
I am so angry that she would want to do this. Selling his company is like getting rid of a part of him. It’s like killing him again. This cannot happen. If I have to fight with her every day until she changes her mind, I will.