Page 19 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
Mom never told me, but it makes sense. I’d already distanced myself from Grandfather. Maybe he thought I’d failed, but he still had a chance to mold my brother into his image.
I’m glad Brady didn’t go; he would have been miserable. Grandfather wouldn’t have let him read all summer, at least not fantasy. Nonfiction and law were more his style, and because he liked those types of books, everyone else should too.
“Why didn’t you go visit?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I didn’t want to spend a month with strangers. Besides, I knew you didn’t like them, so why would I?”
“I didn’t always feel the way I do now,” I say. “We have cousins my age, and the three of us hung out every summer. Grandfather had expectations about how we had to behave and what things we needed to study, but it wasn’t all work. He took us to museums, baseball games, and New York City. I never would have experienced those things if I had stayed home.”
Brady, whose greatest passion is books and who finds fictional friends better company than real ones, isn’t impressed.
“If you had so much fun with him,” he asks, “Then why do you hate him?”
My answer to that question shows what an unappreciative jerk I was to our parents when I was Brady’s age, and I hesitate.
The water in the shower shuts off, but we still have at least twenty minutes before Mom will be out of the bathroom. It’s a family joke how long she takes to get ready in the mornings. It’s why she can’t understand how it only takes me thirty minutes from the moment I get out of bed to when I’m out the door.
“Are you going to tell me?” Brady prods.
“Our cousins are wealthy and sophisticated and lead completely different lives than I do, especially when we were kids. They’d been to Europe multiple times when I met them, and I’d been on a plane once because Grandfather bought my ticket. They had the newest phones, laptops, and expensive clothes. I was an average kid from a podunk town who wore jeans and t-shirts and didn’t know any better. Instead of being angry at Grandfather for disowning his daughter, I was mad at Dad for having such a lame job.”
Anger flashes in Brady’s eyes. “He didn’t have a lame job.”
“I know that now, but I wasn’t as smart as you are. I wanted to impress Grandfather and prove that I was like him and not our parents. From my very first summer, I decided I’d earn a law degree and work at his firm.”
“But you changed your mind. You graduated with a business degree.”
“My bachelor’s degree was in business, but then I went to Harvard and earned a law degree.”
He laughs. “You’re kidding.”
I give him a rueful smile. “Nope. You were only five, so you don’t remember, but Mom and Dad threw me a huge party when I passed the bar. They supported me in everything.”
Even when I didn’t deserve it.
Brady looks at me like I’m a stranger. “Then why aren’t you a lawyer?”
“I worked at Grandfather’s corporate law firm for a year, but then I quit.”
“Did he treat you like an intern and make you get the coffee for the whole office and then, when you got his order wrong, did he make you remove staples from boxes of documents for hours and hours?”
I laugh. “That’s oddly specific.”
“I saw it on a TV show.”
“The reality of law was much less dramatic and a lot more boring. I wanted to love it like Grandfather did, but I didn’t. I don’t know if you remember, but when dad first went into a coma, I was working in New York. After Mom called, I flew into a panic and booked a flight home. I rushed to pack while Grandfather was cool as a cucumber. He said, ‘We’re in the middle of a merger, and you’ve committed to see it through. Ecclestons never leave a job half-finished.’”
Thiswas his response to my dad being hospitalized.
In an instant, a man I strived to emulate became the man I no longer respected.
To him, my dad’s hospitalization was a mere inconvenience. Work responsibilities came first, no matter what happened in our personal lives. He had shared his work philosophy many times, but that day I learned what he meant.
“I left on my flight and never saw him again.”
Brady studies me. “Are you still mad at him?”
“Looking back, I would’ve been surprised if he had acted any other way. What I most resent is how he warned Mom’sfamily not to attend Dad’s funeral. He held all the purse strings, and no one wanted to go against him. Mom could’ve used their support. It was Grandfather’s last dig at the man he felt stole his daughter away from him. I wouldn’t go this Christmas if Grandfather were still alive, no matter what Mom said.”
