Part 3: The Secret They Never Expected
"You can't do that."
Dad's voice cracked with panic.
"You can't just throw us away."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Isn't that exactly what you tried to do to my daughter five minutes ago?"
No answer.
My little girl opened her eyes.
She stared at the Christmas tree.
Its lights reflected in her bright blue eyes.
Then she smiled.
At a room that had never smiled back.
My mother refused to look at her.
"She makes people uncomfortable."
I finally asked the question I had avoided for months.
"Why?"
No one answered.
I asked again.
"Tell me."
Mom gripped her wineglass.
"Because every time I see her..."
She stopped.
Dad quietly muttered,
"...she looks exactly like Michael."
My late husband.
The man they never accepted.
The man they said wasn't successful enough.
The man who worked as a firefighter.
The man who died rescuing strangers from a warehouse fire while they complained that he "could have earned more doing something else."
I stared at them.
"So that's it?"
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
"She has his face."
"And I can't stand looking at it."
I felt something inside me break forever.
Not from anger.
From understanding.
They weren't rejecting my daughter.
They were rejecting the reminder of someone who had loved me more deeply than they ever had.
I kissed my baby's forehead.
"You know what?"
She giggled.
A tiny laugh.
Completely innocent.
"She has his smile too."
Dad looked away.
I opened the attorney's letter.
"As of today, ownership of this property transfers into a charitable housing trust."
Jenny gasped.
"What?"
"I've already signed everything."
Mom nearly dropped her glass.
"You can't!"
"I already did."
"The trust allows you six months to relocate."
Dad's knees almost gave out.
"You'd make us homeless?"
"No."
"I gave you six months."
"You gave me twenty-eight years of conditions."
"I think that's generous."
The front door suddenly opened.
Everyone turned.
Two professionally dressed people walked inside.
"My name is Rebecca."
The woman smiled politely.
"I'm with Anderson & Cole."
"My client asked us to witness today's notification."
Dad stared at me in disbelief.
May you like
"You planned this?"
"No."
