Chapter 18 - The Family Without A Group Chat
The family group chat died.
Not because I destroyed.
People stopped posting.
Too much evidence had come from it.
Eventually Aunt Liora created a smaller one for birthdays.
She asked before adding.
I said no.
My mother sent cards through mail.
Keaton occasional letters.
Dad from prison none first year.
Then one.
Arden,
I still think prison is too much.
I almost stopped.
Then:
But I know now jury did not convict me for using house. They convicted me because I lied to people to get money and used your name.
Progress.
Then:
I am sorry for saying the house belonged to family.
I had decided anything my children built proved I had raised them well, and therefore belonged partly to me.
That was the closest he came to core.
Then:
That belief was wrong.
I read twice.
No forgiveness.
But truth.
I did not reply.
Then my mother’s probation.
She complied.
Paid.
Took no trips.
Sold jewelry? Maybe not.
She volunteered? Court could require community service. She completed 200 hours at food pantry, not hospital.
She asked if could call on birthday.
I said yes after two years.
First call:
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Then:
“How is work?”
“Busy.”
No lake.
No guilt.
Five minutes.
Progress.
Keaton after release asked to meet.
I agreed public café.
He looked older.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He said:
“I’m not asking to come lake.”
“Good.”
Then:
“I want say something without lawyer.”
I waited.
“I was jealous.”
“Of house?”
“Of you.”
That surprised.
“You worked. I kept needing Dad.”
Then:
“When you bought it, Dad talked like you were showing off.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know now.”
Then:
“Renting it made me feel like I had part of thing you built.”
“You could’ve built something.”
“Yeah.”
He cried.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed he meant.
“Thank you.”
Not forgive everything.
Then:
“Can we ever be siblings?”
“I don’t know.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
We started with birthday texts.
Years later occasional dinner.
May you like
He never got key.
He never asked.
