Mistakes We Made

Chapter One - Emma

"Right this way, Miss Alexander," Jennifer, a short plump girl that I had graduated high school with, motioned for me to rise and follow her. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floors as she led me from the reception area at the front, through a hallway, and finally to an office at the back of Fawke, Sutton, and Pearce, one of the local law firms.

Davis Fawke was a real estate lawyer, who helped my grandparents purchase and manage their home and three rental properties. Walker Sutton was a family and divorce attorney. He walked my grandparents through the process of gaining custody of me when I was three years old. Then there were the Pearces. Jaxon Pearce was 6 years older than me and was my childhood tormentor. Ironically, he was a criminal defense lawyer. Thankfully, my family had never required his services. Unlike those of his grandfather, who I was scheduled to meet with that day. Isaac Pearce was an estate attorney and sadly, meetings with him never took place under happy circumstances.

“Hello Emma, it is nice to see you again,” Mr. Pearce stood up from his chair and offered me his hand and I took it, before smoothing out my dress, and sitting down in one of the uncomfortable red leather chairs across from his desk. I strategically chose the one closest to the air conditioner. Even though I had lived in Georgia my whole life and had grown accustomed to the intense heat, that particular August day seemed to be worse than the others. I couldn't seem to get cool, but then again, it could have just been my nerves.

His office looked exactly the same as it had eight years ago when I was fifteen and my grandfather passed away. But then again, Mr. Pearce didn't look any different either. His hair had been gray for as long as I could remember, with a bald spot you could see from the moon. Although, it is possible that he had lost more hair over the years. He also had a noticeable limp that required him to use a cane whenever he walked. The story around town was that his leg was damaged in Vietnam, but I'm not sure that anyone ever actually asked him about it.

“It's nice to see you too,” I said, even though it really wasn't.

“I’m sorry that it is not under better circumstances. I was sad to hear about your grandmother. Stella was a terrific woman.”

“Thank you,” I gave him a tight smile, “I suppose that I'm here because you were finally able to locate my mother.”

He nodded, “She should be here soon and then we can begin. I apologise that this has taken so long. She was a bit difficult to track down.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I wasn't surprised in the least. Bridgit Alexander never stayed in one place for very long and not even she knew where she would end up next. My grandmother liked to say that she had an “adventurous spirit” and a “wandering heart”. I preferred the terms “irresponsible”, “childish”, and “deadbeat”. But of course, if I ever said that to my grandmother, she would scold me. She liked to believe that my mother's wild streak would run it's course and that she would finally come home to be apart of our family. I was not that optimistic.

“Where was she this time?” I asked.

“New York. She's been living there for six months.”

“Well thank you for finding her,” I said, not because I actually meant it, but because it was the polite and proper thing to say. The man had spent the last two months looking for her, per my grandmother's instructions. Apparently, Mema did not want her last will and testament read unless my mother and I were both present. This was something she had failed to mention to me, despite the fact that I was the one she lived with and placed in charge of all of her funeral arrangements. I suppose it was one last effort to reunite our family. Maybe she thought that Bridget and I would bond during our time of grief.

“I was happy to do it. It was important to Stella for Bridgit to be here.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. 1:10. The meeting was supposed to have started at 1:00. Geez, the woman couldn't even show up on time. “Does it normally take long to read over everything?” I asked, “I don't mean to sound pushy. I just have to pick up John from school at 3.”

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door and Jennifer poked her head inside, “Sorry for the interruption, but the Ms. Alexander has arrived.”

“Show her in,” Mr. Pearce waved his hand at her. He stood and straightened his suit jacket as my mother walked into the room. Like he had done for me, he offered her his hand, “Thank you for coming in today.”

“Hello Isaac,” she said, taking the seat next to mine. He stiffened at the casual way she addressed him, but didn't remark. Bridgit turned to me and gave me a bright smile, “Hi,Emmie.”

I nodded to her, “Hi, Mom.”

It had been nearly two years since the last time I saw her. Her trips to Eastfield were few and far between. But despite the time that had passed, she did not look much different. Her hair was blonde, not her natural brown anymore, but that was the only major change. Everything else about her was exactly the same, including her too-tight and too-short clothing. I think she forgot that she was 38, not 28.

“Where is my grandson?” She asked and I frowned. She was hardly grandmother material.

“He's at school.” I answered her and turned my attention back to Mr. Pearce.

“Well ladies, are you ready to get started?” The lawyer asked as he pulled a folder out of his desk drawer. We both nodded so he continued, “Very well. Before I start reading, she wanted me to give you these but she wants you to read them on your own.”

He held up two pale blue envelope with our names written on them in Mema’s neat cursive. I took mine from him and placed it in my purse. Once our attention was back on him, Mr. Pearce moved on.

“To my granddaughter Emma Elaine Alexander, I leave our home and all of the furniture located at, 732 Rosemary Road and two of the three rental properties, located at 628 Ivy Road and 621 Ivy Road. I hope John will love growing up there just as much as you did and that the properties will help to support you as you raise your son. The house is paid for, so you will not have to worry about a bank note. Thank you for staying with and taking care of me.

To my great-grandson, John Michael Alexander, I leave my life savings of $20,000 to be put in trust for college. I expect him to great things.

To my daughter, Bridgit Suzanne Alexander, I leave the third rental property located at 625 Ivy Road, and my engagement ring, which I promised you as a child. I hope you'll consider moving home.

As for my money and belongings, what is left is to be split equally between Emma and Bridgit.”

******

The house my grandmother left me was the same one she and my grandfather had purchased during their first year of marriage. It was small and old, to say the least. It had two bedrooms, only one bathroom, a small kitchen, with a laundry room the size of a closet, and a cramped living room. The white paint was beginning to chip off, the roof probably needed to be replaced, and the steps to the back porch were in desperate need of some TLC because the boards were starting to come loose.

But, despite all of the faults I could list about it, it was my home. It was where my grandparents raised my mother, where they raised me, and it was where I was raising my son. It was the only home that he had ever known and with all of the changes happening in his life, what with losing his great grandmother who he adored, I couldn't imagine taking that house away from him too. I was thankful that my grandmother had ensured John and I would be taken care of even after she was gone.

“Mama, hey Mama,” John called, drawing my attention away from the house. He was sitting on the tire swing under the Oak tree in our back yard, waiting for me to push him.

I made my way over to him and ruffled his dirty blonde curls, “We can only stay out for a few more minutes.”

His lips curved downward, “Why?”

I gave the tire a shove, “Because you have school tomorrow and you've still got to get a bath before you go to bed.”

“I don't need a bath, I'm not dirty,” My four year old tried to convince me, even though his cheeks had smudges on them from dirt and the spaghetti he had eaten for supper and his barefeet were almost black from walking around the garden with no shoes.

“Sorry buddy, but you definitely need a bath,” I gave the swing another push.

“Hey Mama.” He said again, “Can I get a puppy?”

I quirked up an eyebrow at him, even though he was not looking at me, “A puppy?”

“Yeah, Murray Liz got one and so did Jonah.” He informed me, listing off two of his Pre-K classmates.

“I’ll think about it.” I consented, before grabbing ahold of the rope and stopping the swing, “Now come on, if you get a bath now, then we'll have time to read a story before bed.”

He looked at me for a moment, assessing my words, then he said, “Two stories?”

I chuckled, “Alright. Two stories if you go in the tub right now.”

He hopped down from the swing and gave me a wide grin, “Race you to the porch.”

A little while later, after I finally tucked John into bed and read him two bedtime stories, I curled up in my grandfather's ugly green recliner, with a box of Kleenex and Mema's letter. She had passed away two months prior, in the middle of June, but it still was not any easier to deal with. I felt lost without her. Who was I going to confide in? Who was I going to turn to for advice? Who was going to make sure that I didn't completely screw up this parenting thing? She was the one person I could always depend on, the only mother I had ever known, and now she was gone. I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the perfectly folded letter.

My sweet Emmie,

I want you to know that I am so incredibly proud of you. You're a kind, intelligent, and beautiful young lady, and you're a fantastic mother. I know your life did not work out exactly how you hoped, but you have never let any of those things keep you down. You make the best of everything and that's what I need you to do right now. I know you're sad, but you can't let it weigh you down. Try to be happy, because John needs you to be and because you deserve to be. For the past 23 years, you have been my greatest source of joy.

Take good care of my great grandson. Remember to stock up on Vick's vapor rub, for when John has a bad cough and when you have one, mix some honey into a cup of whiskey and drop in a peppermint. I also wrote down all of your favorite recipes, they're in a box in my dresser. But most importantly, give Bridgit a chance. I know she was never the mother you needed, but Emmie, her and John are the only family you have. Give her a chance to make up for her past mistakes.

Give John a kiss for me. I love you both.

Love,

Mema