Hey love, let me tell you what happened on Stans birthday you know, the big 35yearold milestone. He was in a terrible mood, shouting, Dont invite them! No way, under any excuse! I tried to calm him down.
Stan, its your birthday, I said. Thirtyfive is a serious number.
He just scoffed, I dont want to see them.
I grabbed his hand it was warm and tense, just like every time we talk about his parents.
James called earlier, asking if he could come.
James yeah, just him. No one else.
He said Mum was crying, she wants to see you.
Let her cry. Where was she when they threw me out of the house? When I was crashing at friends places in turns?
Ive heard that story a hundred times. It goes back to his second year at university, a disastrous exam period and a forced dismissal. His dad, Colonel Colin, a retired officer with a steelgrip on family honour, once told him, Disgrace the family get out. And Stan walked away, into nowhere.
Youve turned it around, havent you? You finished another course, got a job.
On my own! No help from them! And Harry later bought his flat and a car his pride!
Dont be angry at your brother. Hes not to blame.
Im not angry, I just dont want to see my parents at the doorstep.
Poppy sighed. It was the usual deadend chat. Later that evening she was washing dishes, thinking about her own mother, the one she hadnt seen for three years before she passed away.
Back then shed been angry at her mothers endless nagging, random punishments, humiliation. Shed moved to another city, even changed her number. Then Aunt Nancy called to tell her that Mum had died of liver disease shed been the only one left in the hospital ward.
Even now, in the night, she still hears her mothers voice: Poppy, forgive me, and the line goes dead.
What are you thinking about? Stan asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
About Mum.
Still chewing on it?
I cant stop. I shouldve gone back, even just to say goodbye.
She was squeezing you, Poppy! Playing with your scholarship.
But she was ill. A love of strong drink is a disease, you know.
And what? An excuse?
No. Still I could have forgiven, but now its too late.
Stan turned her to face him. Dont torture yourself. You did what you could. You saved yourself.
And lost your soul.
Nonsense. Youve got the brightest soul I know. He kissed her temple and she leaned into him. He still didnt get how to live with that guilt.
They decided to keep the party lowkey at home. Only fifteen guests close mates, colleagues, and James with his wife.
Morning came and Poppy was bustling in the kitchen, tossing salads, heating the oven, ordering a cake. Stan was chopping veg and setting the table.
Harrys definitely coming alone, right? he asked while slicing.
He promised.
Good.
By seven the first guests were arriving. James turned up around half past seven, and two more squeezed in behind him.
Colin grey, upright as a walking stick, in a stiff suit and Margaret petite, in a flowery dress, clutching a gift box.
Stan froze, a bottle in his hand.
Whats this about?
Stanley, dear, Margaret stepped forward.
I didnt invite you.
We came on our own, Colin said sharply. We have a right!
No rights here! James, what the hell?
Mate, chill. Theyre my parents!
I dont give a toss! Get out!
The room went deadsilent, everyone with a glass or a plate in hand.
Stan, dont Poppy touched his hand.
No, I have to! He shouted. Youve ignored me for ten years! You missed my wedding! You dont even recognise my grandson! And now you show up?
We just wanted to wish him happy birthday, Margaret offered, holding out the box.
Throw your wishes in the bin! I dont need anything from you!
Stanley, stop the drama! Colin roared. Behave like a man!
How could you teach me to kick someone out of the house for a slipup?
You disgraced the family!
I was a student! Just an ordinary bloke who flunked an exam!
Because of parties and girls!
And thats a reason to throw a son out?
Margaret started sobbing, Colins face turned crimson.
We gave you a lesson!
You broke my life! If it werent for Poppy and my mates, where would I be?
Dont exaggerate! You survived!
No, I survived without you! And Ill keep surviving!
James tried to mediate. Guys, calm down. The guests
Let them go! Stan turned to the door. Out, both of you!
Colin straightened even more. Fine. I know I made the right call. All my assets go to James. Every penny. And you? Nothing. A void!
I dont care about your money!
Well see how you sing when were gone.
Off you go, you rubbish!
The parents left, Margaret sniffling, Colin marching out with a stiff gait. James chased after them, trying to reason.
Silence fell over the room.
Sorry about that, folks, Stan said to the remaining guests. Family drama.
Someone tried to lighten the mood, It happens.
But the celebration was ruined. Everyone slipped out quickly, leaving only James, pale and dejected.
Whyd you bring them? Stan asked, exhausted.
I thought youd reconcile. Mum begged me.
Let her beg all she wants. I dont give a toss.
Mate, thats not right. Theyre old now.
And oldness is a pardon?
Dad mentioned his will seriously. Nothing for you.
And thank God. I dont need his handouts.
James left. Poppy quietly cleared the table. Stan collapsed on the sofa, face buried in his hands.
Did I do the right thing?
I dont know, but I get you.
They didnt even apologise. Just showed up as if nothing happened.
Pride wont let you.
My pride? Could they have trampled me?
Poppy sat beside him and hugged him.
You couldnt be trampled. Sometimes sometimes its better to forgive before its too late.
Hows your mum?
Fine.
Thats a different story, Poppy. Your mum was ill. Mine just harsh.
Maybe. Maybe they just dont know how to love properly.
Three years later, a regular morning, Stan was getting ready for work when his phone rang it was James.
Mate, Dads in hospital. Stroke.
Something snapped inside Stan.
Seriously?
Doctors say might not pull through.
I get it.
You coming?
I dont know.
Stan, hes your father. Whatever happens.
He hung up, and Poppy looked at him, concerned.
Dads on the brink.
Go.
Why? He doesnt even want me.
And you? Do you want him to just drift away?
Stan was silent, remembering childhood bike rides with Colin, fishing trips, the massive schoolbag in first grade with his dads steady hand.
When had it all turned sour? When the protector turned tyrant?
Go, Poppy urged again. Later will be too late.
The hospital smelled of disinfectant. A frail, silverhaired woman sat in the corridor the version of Margaret shed become. She saw Stan and clutched at him.
Stanley! Youre here!
She hugged him hard. He stood like a statue, speechless.
Hows Dad?
Bad. The doctors no hope.
Can I see him?
Hes unconscious, but they say he can hear.
Stan sat beside the bed tubes, drips, monitors. No longer a fearsome colonel, just a weak old man.
He took a trembling hand, featherlight.
Dad, its me. Stan.
Only the soft beeping filled the room.
I I want to say something. I was angry at you for years. For throwing me out. For the coldness. For loving Harry more than me.
His hand trembled.
But you know what? I forgive you. I really do. Im letting go.
His fathers eyes flickered open, cloudy but recognisable.
Dad?
His lips moved. Stan leaned in.
…forg
A barely audible word, but Stan heard it.
I forgive you, Dad. Its alright.
His fathers eyes closed again, peace settling over his face.
Stan stayed, holding his hand, talking about work, family, the grandson hed never get to meet.
That night the old man passed quietly, as if in his sleep. Mom said hed been waiting for that forgiveness.
After the funeral, Stan and Poppy sat at home, sipping tea in silence.
How are you? she asked.
Strange. I thought Id feel better, but theres a hollow.
You did the right thing, driving away.
You know, he said forgive for the first time in his life.
My pride broke in front of the world.
Mine too.
Poppy lifted her head.
Stan, forgive yourself for Mum. She wouldnt want you to keep hurting.
How do you know?
Because parents love their kids, even the ones like my dad crooked, painful, but love nonetheless. They forgive everything.
Poppy burst into tears. Stan pulled her close, squeezing her.
Were both fools, clinging to grudges, gnawing at ourselves. We should have just forgiven.
Now we know.
Too late for them, but not for us. Were alive and can live without that weight.
Outside, the first snow of the season fell pure, white, like a fresh start, like forgiveness.
Stan thought about how much time theyd wasted on anger. At least now hed said the words, heard them. That was enough.
Take care, love. Make peace while you can we never know how long we have.