Chapter 23 - Margaret’s Last Question
Margaret’s hospice room overlooked a parking lot.
No lake.
No red bag.
No project files.
She was eighty one.
Thin.
Hair white.
When I entered, she smiled.
“Emily.”
“Hi, Margaret.”
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“Fair.”
I sat.
She did not ask about Clara first.
Good.
She asked:
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Bell Point?”
“Still partly mine.”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
Then silence.
Finally:
“Did you ever hate me?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Do you now?”
“No.”
Tears appeared.
Then:
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need to.”
That was true.
Then she asked:
“Did Richard mean to kill you?”
I thought.
“Not in a clean way.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t think he boarded boat with a settled plan to murder me.”
She closed eyes.
“But he was willing to let something happen if it solved his problem.”
“Yes.”
She cried.
“I knew.”
My breath stopped.
“What?”
“Not that he’d push.”
Then:
“But I knew he’d become capable of terrible things when cornered.”
There.
Why not stop?
She answered before I asked.
“Because I needed Harbor Ridge to work too.”
Then:
“I chose money over the fear in my own stomach.”
No excuse.
Then:
“I’m sorry I laughed while you were in water.”
That memory.
Margaret pointing.
Let her splash around.
I had almost forgotten exact tone.
“I was furious at you for not saving me from my bad choices.”
Her investment.
North Cove.
Retirement.
Then:
“I made you villain so I wouldn’t have to admit I ruined myself.”
Specific.
Then she asked:
“Does Clara hate me?”
“No.”
“Love?”
“I don’t know.”
She smiled.
“Fair.”
Then:
“Do you think I was bad mother?”
To Daniel?
“Sometimes.”
She laughed weakly.
“Same answer he gave.”
Then:
“Did I love him?”
“Yes.”
“Did I hurt him?”
“Yes.”
Two truths.
Then she said:
“I thought family loyalty meant nobody could leave.”
I waited.
“Now I think it means people can leave and still be family if both want.”
That was closer.
She died three weeks later.
Daniel and Clara attended funeral.
I did not.
I sent a note to Daniel:
I’m sorry for your loss.
He replied:
Thank you.
Margaret left modest estate.
No North Cove.
No business claims.
A few savings.
Personal items.
She left Clara a red scarf.
Not the red bag.
Clara kept.
Objects innocent.
Then I found my old dive watch in a drawer.
Battery no longer held charge well.
Technology obsolete.
Clara had once asked if she would inherit.
I called.
“Do you still want the watch someday?”
She laughed.
“No.”
Good.
“Why?”
“It’s yours.”
Then:
“What are you doing with it?”
May you like
I didn’t know.
Not yet.
