Bellamy

“Are you ready for this?” I look over to Zac, my boyfriend, and nod my head, even though I know I’m lying. I am not ready for this. The last thing I am is ready for this.

We’ve been sitting in Erik’s office for the last twenty minutes. His secretary has come in twice and apologized for his lateness, telling us that he had an appointment run over and then he hit a traffic jam. I couldn’t give two craps if Erik is stuck in traffic, or if he isn’t. He’s known me long enough to know that I hate these meetings with him. I understand that they are a necessity and I can’t go by without them, but fudge, I loathe them more than anything else because I have to relive everything.

I feel like I am reliving my parents’ deaths, every emotion, every tear, everything just comes rushing back in a flood of emotion.

Every single time I see Erik, I don’t see my dad’s best friend. I see his estate lawyer. Maybe that’s wrong of me, but I just can’t move past it. Losing my parents has taken over my life, in a sense…my grief has taken over.

Over the years I have come to realize that this is a usual thing. With every therapy session, I went to, I learned more and more about how to cope with my daily life. The things the therapists don’t tell you is that in the end, there is no “coping” – there is just acceptance.

Today is my 25th birthday, a milestone age of sorts. I am officially one quarter of a century old. I should be neck deep in a fishbowl margarita right now, but instead, I’m at my lawyer’s office, waiting to hear the last stipulations of my final inheritance.

In a way, I was very blessed. Scratch that – I am very blessed to have the parents that I did. They were the type that prepared for everything, even something as horrific as passing too soon. My dad was amazing with stock trading, and my Mom saved every penny for my future that she could. I was really freaking blessed. Even with them both being gone, they are still taking care of me beyond the grave.

I take the gold cross hanging around my neck. It was a necklace that my mom gave me when I was five, with a small piece of garnet in the middle. Garnet was her birthstone, and she always told me that wearing this necklace meant that she was always close to my heart. I truly believe that. In a lot of ways, this piece of jewelry is the only real tie I have left to her. So often there are times when I will hold it or bring it to my lips and just breathe. It centers me, almost as if this necklace is my mom. Wearing it gives me peace, and I need that so much these days.

Erik comes plummeting through the doorway as Zac slides his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him on the couch.

“How’s my favorite niece?” he asks, giving me that million-dollar smile. He always did have a lovely smile. My father always insisted that I called Erik my uncle. He wasn’t blood, but that didn’t matter, he was still family. I can hear my father’s voice in my head right now, “Blood does not define who we call family. Our hearts do.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him, hoping that he’ll realize I’m extremely uncomfortable and cut to the chase.

I watch him closely as he pulls out a key from his pocket and walks towards his desk, inserting the key into a drawer. I can hear the screech of the old wooden thing as he pulls it towards him. His eyes maintain their focus, on whatever it is that he’s searching for, and I see him pull up a manila envelope, setting it on his desk and pulling a few pieces of paper, plus a smaller envelope. “You know the drill, this is pretty standard stuff, and I think we’ve got it down pat by now, don’t you, Kiddo?”

I’m not one of those people who can laugh and joke through emotionally stressful situations, I just do one thing, shut down.

“Alright, then,” he mumbles, pulling out a few sheets of paper, he hands me a pen, and before he speaks, I already know I have to sign and initial wherever is noted. “You have –”

“To sign where the yellow tabs are and initial next to the blue,” I finish for him, this time giving him a small glance and trying to fake a smile, but I suck at it, and I know the only thing I’m doing is making this harder for the both of us. Sure, I’m the daughter, but Erik lost his best friend. I’m not the only one who has to deal with their loss, and I’m constantly reminding myself of that.

“As you know, this is your last inheritance. You’ve done a good job of saving and investing what you can, Bell, and I’m hoping you still continue to do that, even with the path you’re on.” The path you don’t approve of, I want to say back to him. I’m a musician, it’s not like that screams instant fame or a return on the investments I’ve made into my career. My uncle would rather I am safe with my career choice and not fight with millions of other up and coming starlets. He’s made his opinion apparent at Sunday dinner, which I go to, every week. “You’re not just getting your money today, sweetheart. I don’t like to keep things from you, but I have two letters, one from your mom, and one from your dad. They did a fantastic job of preparing for this, hoping it would never happen, but nonetheless, they had prepared for it. You need to read them, especially your mother’s.”

I nod as he hands me the letters, one in my mom’s lovely cursive handwriting, and the other in my father’s chicken scratch. I couldn’t help but wonder to myself if I’d even be able to read it, but I’d find out whenever I opened it. For a few moments, I wondered if I should wait, but I didn’t want to. There was something deep down inside that was telling me to open those letters, and I started with my mother’s, ripping apart the envelope and pulling the piece of paper from it. I unfolded the two sheets, starting at the beginning.

If you’re reading this, then things didn’t turn out the way that I ever wanted them to. Firstly, I want to apologize. I want to apologize because you’re in this situation, going through life without a mother – which is something that I’ve never wanted for you, but that isn’t the only thing that I want to apologize to you for, sweetheart. I lied to you. For years, I lied to you, in the hopes of protecting you, but it seems as if I have even failed at doing that.

I’m sure your head is wracking around the possibilities of what it is that I could have lied to you about, and I will tell you, in a moment. I know that you must have grown into the most beautiful, intelligent, young woman. I am so beyond proud of you, in whatever adventure it is that you’ve chosen to pursue.

Your father and I made your life as safe as we possibly could have, tucking you away in our small, suburban neighborhood. What you don’t know, my dear is that when I met your father, you were two weeks old. I was alone in a brand-new city. He was nice, loving and by the time you turned one we were married, and you were legally his daughter. I’m sorry that I never told you that, but I felt like I never needed to. He’s been your father since the day we met him and loved you as a father should’ve.

I kept secrets from you, sweetheart, big, awful secrets. I knew that by lying to you, I was protecting you, so I did what any mother would have – protected their baby.

I’m not from Nevada. I’ve never even been to Nevada in my entire life. I’m from a small town in central Texas. That’s where I moved from when I came to Oregon.

I lived in Texas until I was nineteen and pregnant with you. I was young and dumb, and ultimately, I ended up leaving because of your biological father. I got mixed up with the wrong crowd, with him being the ringleader. Back then, I thought I was madly in love with this powerful man, and I was, at that time. Looking back, I couldn’t have been more naïve. It most certainly was not love, I was in awe of Jimmy and his lifestyle, of the risk, the danger, and the thrill.

I made the decision to leave Texas the day I found out that I was pregnant with you. There wasn’t really anything for me to stick around for; both of my parents were dead and at that moment…the moment I found out that you were entering my life, well, I saw things in a different light. I think that at that moment I saw Jimmy for what he truly was: an abusive, manipulative, monster of a man. I packed up a small bag, went to the bus station, and boarded the first bus that was leaving town. That is how I ended up in Oregon.

I am telling you this now because you are old enough to understand. Obviously, I’m dead. Jimmy is most likely the reason why I’m dead. I did a damn good job at hiding you as best as I could, baby, but obviously, I didn’t try hard enough.

This is a warning, Bellamy. Do not engage in any sort of communication with your biological father. He is an evil, hateful man. There was a reason that I ran from him, and I hope that you can use your own judgement and understand why I made that decision.

The thing about Jimmy is that he’s smart. He charmed me in all the right ways. I was playing with fire, and I knew that the very first second, I laid my eyes on him, but like the stupid little girl I was – I didn’t care.

I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now, or how you must feel, but I have one more thing to tell you, sweetheart.

You have an older half-sister, her name is Elena, and while I beg you not to track down your father…I couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing that you have a sister. There is little information that I can give you about her besides where I last saw her and what your father does. Jimmy is the President of a biker gang called the Vipers MC. He shouldn’t be hard to find, and finding Elena should come easy, if you choose to search for her.

Please, just do not go searching for Jimmy. Find your sister if you will, but do not –I beg of you – reach out to your father.

I love you, baby,

-        Mom

I stare down at the two pieces of paper in my hand, shocked beyond belief. I thought I knew just what I was going to feel coming out of this meeting. The thing was, nothing could have prepared me for this.