Late call
Dont invite them! Got that? Under no pretext!
Its your birthday, love. Thirtyfive is a proper milestone.
I dont care. I dont want to see them.
Mark, how long are you going to drag this on? Its been ten years.
And another ten will pass. And twenty. To me theyre already dead.
Emma sat down beside me, took my hand, warm and tense. Always the same when we talk about my parents.
James called. He asked if he could come.
Tom said yes. One person, no one else.
He told me Mum was crying. She wants to see you.
Let her cry. Where was she when they threw me out of the house? When I spent nights crashing at friends places?
Old story. Emma knows it by heart. Second year of university, a disastrous exam period, expulsion. My dad, a retired colonel, a man of rigid principles. Disgrace the family get out. And I got out. Into nowhere
You managed to pull yourself together. Finished another college, got a job.
By myself! No help! And Tom later bought a flat and a car. A proper prize!
Dont be angry with your brother. Hes not to blame.
Im not angry. I just dont want to see my parents, not even at the doorstep.
Emma sighed. Pointless chatter, as always.
That evening she was washing dishes, thinking of herself. Of the mother she hadnt seen for three years before her last breath.
Shed been hurt then by another sudden eviction, by baseless punishments, humiliation. Shed moved to another city and changed her number.
Then her aunt called to tell her Mum had passed liver failure. Only one sister was in the hospital ward.
Even now, in the night, I hear Mums voice:
Emma, forgive me shed throw the handset.
Whats on your mind? Mark wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Mum.
Still chewing on it?
I cant let it go. I should have come back, at least to say goodbye.
She was cheating you, Emma! Missed your scholarship.
But she was ill. A love of strong drink is a disease.
So what? An excuse?
No. Still I could have forgiven, but now its too late.
Mark turned her toward him.
Dont torture yourself. You did what you could. You saved yourself.
But I lost my soul.
Nonsense. Youve got the brightest soul I know.
He kissed her temple, and Emma leaned into him. He never knew how to live with that kind of guilt.
We decided to keep the birthday at home. Fifteen guests close friends, colleagues, James and his wife.
From early morning Emma was bustling in the kitchen. Salads, hot dishes, a cake ordered. Mark helped slicing veg, setting the table.
Tom will really be the only one coming? he asked as he worked.
He promised.
Good.
By seven the guests began to arrive. James showed up right on the halfhour. Two more squeezed through the door after him.
Dad grey, upright as a ruler, in a stern suit. Mum petite, in a floral dress, holding a wrapped box.
Mark froze, bottle in his hand.
What does this mean?
Mark, dear Mum stepped forward.
I didnt invite you.
We came on our own, the father snapped. We have the right!
You have no right! James, whats this madness?
Brother, calm down. Theyre my parents!
I dont give a toss! Get out!
The room fell silent. Some held glasses, others plates. An awkward hush settled.
Mark, dont
Emma touched his hand.
No, you must! he shouted. Ten years you didnt know me! You ignored my wedding! You wont recognise my grandson! And now you turn up?
We just wanted to wish you, Mum offered the box. Happy birthday.
shove your wishes away! I need nothing from you!
Stanley, stop the tantrum! the father roared. Behave like a man!
As you taught me? Throw a child out for stumbling?
You disgraced the family!
I was a student! A regular student who flunked an exam!
Because of parties and girls!
And thats a reason to throw a son out the door?
Mum began to sob. Dads face flushed.
We gave you a lesson!
You ruined my life! If it werent for Emma, for my friends, where would I be now?
Dont exaggerate! I survived!
I survived without you! And Ill keep on surviving!
James tried to step between them.
Please, calm down. The guests
Let them go! Mark turned toward the door. Out! Both of you!
Dad stood even taller.
Fine. Now I know I made the right decision. All our assets will go to James. Every penny! And you nothing. A void!
I couldnt care less about your money!
Well see how you sing when were gone.
Youll drown in your own lies!
The parents left. Mum sniffed, Dad walked away with a measured stride. James chased after them, saying something, pleading.
Silence hung in the room.
Sorry, folks, Mark said to the remaining guests. Family drama.
It happens, someone tried to lighten the mood.
But the celebration was ruined. The guests slipped away quickly. Only James remained, pale and dejected.
Whyd you bring them? Mark asked, weary.
Thought youd reconcile. Mum asked me to.
Let her ask as much as she wants. I dont care.
Brother, its not right. Theyre old now.
And what? Old age is a pardon?
Dad spoke seriously about his will. He wont leave you anything.
Thank God. I dont need his handouts!
James left. Emma silently cleared the table. Mark sank onto the sofa, his face buried in his palms.
Did I do the right thing?
I dont know. But I understand you.
They didnt even apologise. They turned up as if nothing had happened.
Pride wont let us.
And my pride? Could they have trampled me?
Emma sat beside him, hugging him.
They cant. But sometimes sometimes its better to forgive before its too late.
Hows your mum?
Shes gone.
Thats another story, Emma. Your mum was ill. Mine were just hard men.
Maybe. Or maybe they just dont know how to love any other way.
Three years later, a typical morning, Mark was getting ready for work when the phone rang it was James.
Brother, Dads in hospital. Stroke.
Something inside him snapped.
Seriously?
Doctors say they might not pull through.
I see.
Are you coming?
I dont know.
Mark, hes your father. Whatever happens.
Mark put the receiver down. Emma watched, eyes narrowed.
Dads on the brink.
Go.
Why? He doesnt want me.
And you? Do you want him to die that way?
Mark was silent, recalling childhood dad teaching him to ride a bike, fishing on the lake, firstgrade backpack the size of a suitcase, dads firm hand.
When did it change? When the protector turned tyrant?
Go, Emma repeated. Itll be too late later.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic. Mom sat in the corridor small, grey, lost. She saw Mark and clutched at him.
Mark! Youre here!
She hugged him. He stood like a statue, speechless.
Hows Dad?
Bad. The doctors theyre not giving us hope.
Can I see him?
Hes unconscious. They say he can hear.
The ward: dad in bed, tubes, drips, monitors. Not the stern colonel, but a frail old man.
Mark sat down, took his dry, feathery hand.
Dad, its me. Mark.
Silence. Only the beeping of machines.
I I need to say this. I was angry at you. I held a grudge for years. For throwing me out. For the indifference. For loving Tom more than me.
His hand trembled.
But you know what? I forgive you. Hear that? I forgive you, for everything.
Dads eyes fluttered open, cloudy but recognisable.
Dad?
His lips moved. Mark leaned in.
I forgive
A barely audible word. Mark heard it.
I forgave you, dad. Its alright.
Dad closed his eyes again, this time peacefully.
Mark stayed, holding his hand, talking about work, family, a grandson hed never meet.
Dad passed that night, quietly, as if in his sleep. Mom later said hed waited for forgiveness.
After the funeral, Mark and Emma sat at home, sipping tea in silence.
How are you? she asked.
Strange. I thought Id feel something else. Inside its empty.
You did the right thing, driving away.
You know, he said I forgive. The first time in his life.
Pride crumbled before the world.
Yes. Mine too.
Emma lifted her head.
Mark, pardon yourself for mum. She wouldnt want you to keep suffering.
How do you know?
Because parents love their children. Even the ones like my dad crooked, painful, but love nonetheless. And they forgive everything.
Emma began to weep. Mark pulled her close, holding her tight.
Were both fools. We clung to grudges, gnawed at ourselves. We should have just just forgiven.
Now we know.
Its too late for them. But were alive. We can live without that burden.
Outside, snow fell the first of the year, clean and white, like forgiveness, a fresh page.
Mark thought of his dad. How they could have mended sooner. How many years wasted on anger.
At least he said it. At least he heard it. And thats something.
Be wise, learn to forgive, for parents arent eternal, and we cant choose them.
