Chapter 24 - EVERETT AT SIXTY
Everett asked me for coffee when we were both around sixty.
Quincy was grown.
No custody.
No lawyers.
No trust issue.
Just coffee.
He said:
“I finally understand why the recording bothered me more than Mom.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom heard herself and still believed she was right.”
“And you?”
“I heard myself knowing things were wrong and staying anyway.”
That was accurate.
He looked at me.
“I thought objections made me innocent.”
I nodded.
“They didn’t.”
“No.”
“Do you regret us?”
I thought.
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I regret what you did. I regret what I ignored before then. I don’t regret every year because the ending was bad.”
His eyes filled.
“You were kinder to me than I deserved.”
“No.”
I smiled.
“I’m just too old to rewrite thirty years into one adjective.”
We finished coffee.
May you like
Separate lives.
Peace.
