Late Call
Dont invite them! You hear me? Not under any pretext!
Its your birthday, Stephen. Thirtyfive a serious milestone.
I dont care. I dont want to see them.
Stephen, how many times must I ask? Ten years have passed.
And another ten will go by. And twenty. To me theyre dead.
Eleanor sat beside me, took my hand warm, tense. As always when the subject of parents came up.
William called. He asked if he could come.
Harryyes. One. 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 slept over friends sofas in turn?
A story Ive heard a hundred times. Second year at university, a brutal exam period, then dismissal. My father, a retired colonel, a man of iron principles. Disgrace the familyleave. And Stephen left. Into nowhere
Youve pulled yourself together. Finished another college, found work.
On my own! No ones help! And after that Harry bought a flat! A car! A favourite!
Dont be angry with your brother. Hes not at fault.
Im not angry. I just dont want to see my parents, not even at the doorstep.
Eleanor sighed. A futile conversation, as always.
That evening she washed the dishes, thinking of her own past. Of a mother she hadnt seen for three years before the final breath.
Shed once been angry at her mothers endless scoldings, unjust punishments, humiliations. Shed moved to another town and changed her phone number.
Later her aunt called: mother had diedliver failure. Only one of them was in the hospital ward.
Even now, in the night, I hear my mothers voice:
Eleanor, forgive meshed hang up the receiver.
Whats on your mind? Stephen hugged me from behind.
Mum.
Still chewing on it?
I cant stop. I shouldve come back, at least to say goodbye.
She was cheating you, Eleanor! She squandered your scholarship.
But she was ill. A love of strong drink is a sickness.
And what? An excuse?
No. Still I could have forgiven. Now its too late.
Stephen turned me toward him.
Dont torment yourself. You did what you could. You saved yourself.
But I lost my soul.
Nonsense. You have the brightest soul I know.
He kissed my temple and I leaned into him. He didnt understand how to live with that guilt.
We decided to celebrate the birthday at home. Fifteen guestsclose friends, colleagues, William with his wife.
From early morning Eleanor bustled around the kitchen. Salads, hot dishes, a cake ordered. Stephen helpedchopping veg, setting the table.
Harry will definitely be the only one who comes? he asked amidst the chores.
He promised.
Good.
By seven the guests began to arrive. William showed up at half past seven. Two more slipped in through the door.
Fathergray, upright as a walking stick, in a stern suit. Mothersmall, in a floral dress, clutching a box.
Stephen froze, glass in hand.
What does this mean?
Stephen, dear mother stepped forward.
I didnt invite you.
We came on our own, father said sharply. We have a right!
You have no right! William, what the hell?
Brother, calm down. Theyre my parents!
I dont give a toss! Get out!
The room fell silent. Some held glasses, some plates. An awkward hush settled.
Stephen, you dont have to Eleanor touched his hand.
No, you must! he snapped. You havent known me for ten years! You ignored my wedding! You dont recognise my grandson! And now you show up?
We wanted to wish you happy birthday mother extended the box. Here.
Put your greetings away I need nothing from you!
Stephen, stop the tantrum! shouted father. Behave like a man!
As you taught me? Throw a son out because he stumbled?
You disgraced the family!
I was a student! A normal student who failed a term!
Because of parties and girls!
And now thats a reason to cast a son out?
Mother began to sob. Fathers face flushed.
We gave you a lesson!
You ruined my life! If it werent for Eleanor, for my friends, where would I be?
Dont exaggerate! I survived!
I survived without you! And Ill keep on surviving!
William tried to intervene.
Listen, calm down. The guests
Let them go! Stephen turned to the door. Out! Both of them!
Father stood taller.
Fine. Now I know I made the right decision. All our assets will go to William. Every penny! And younothing. An empty space!
I dont care about your money!
Well see how you sing when were gone.
Youll be left with nothing!
The parents left. Mother sniffed, father walked away with a heavy step. William chased after them, pleading, persuading.
Silence hung in the room.
Sorry, Stephen said to the guests. Family quarrels.
Its alright, happens someone tried to ease the tension.
But the celebration was ruined. Guests drifted away quickly. Only William remained, pale and upset.
Why did you bring them? Stephen asked, exhausted.
I thought youd reconcile. Mother asked.
Let her ask all she wants. Im indifferent.
Brother, thats not right. Theyre old now.
And so? Old age is a licence?
Father spoke seriously about the will. Hell leave you nothing.
Thank God. I dont need his handouts!
William left. Eleanor quietly cleared the table. Stephen slumped onto the sofa, face buried in his hands.
Did I do the right thing?
I dont know. But I understand you.
They didnt even apologise. They came as if nothing had happened.
Pride wont let you.
And my pride? Could it have been crushed?
Eleanor sat beside me, embraced me.
It cant. But sometimes sometimes its better to forgive before its too late.
Hows your mum?
Shes gone.
Thats another story, Eleanor. Your mum was ill. Mine were just cruel.
Maybe. Or maybe they simply dont know how to love any other way.
Three years later, a regular morning, I was getting ready for work when the phone rangWilliam.
Brother, dads in hospital. Stroke.
Something inside snapped.
Seriously?
Doctors say they may not pull through.
I understand.
Are you coming?
I dont know.
Stephen, hes your father. Whatever happens.
I put the receiver down. Eleanor watched, curious.
Dads on the brink.
Go.
Why? He doesnt want me.
And you? Do you want him to die that way?
I stayed silent, recalling childhood: dad teaching me to ride a bike, fishing on the lake, firstgrade backpack and his steady hand.
When did it change? When the protector turned tyrant?
Go, Eleanor urged. Itll be too late later.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic. Mothersmall, gray, lostsat in the corridor. She leapt up when she saw me.
Stephen! Youre here!
She hugged me; I stood stiff as a post, unable to answer.
Hows dad?
Bad. Doctors give little hope.
Can I see him?
Hes unconscious, but they say he can hear.
The ward: dad in bed, tubes, drips, monitors. No longer a stern colonel, but a frail old man.
I sat beside him, took his dry handlight as a feather.
Dad, its me. Stephen.
Silence. Only the beeping of machines.
I I want to say. I was angry at you. I held a grudge for years. For kicking me out. For favouring Harry over me.
His hand trembled. Did I imagine it?
But you know what? I forgive you. Hear that? I forgive youfor everything.
His eyes fluttered open, blurry, but I recognised them.
Dad?
His lips moved. I leaned in.
I forgive
A single word, barely audible. I heard it.
I forgave, dad. Its all right.
He closed his eyes again, this time peacefully.
I stayed, holding his hand, talking about work, family, a grandchild hed never meet.
He passed that night, quietly, as if in sleep. Mother said hed been waitingfor forgiveness.
After the funeral, Eleanor and I sat at home, sipping tea in silence.
How are you? she asked.
Strange. I thought Id feel something, but inside its empty.
You did the right thing, by going.
You know, he said I forgive. First time in my life.
Pride collapsed before the world.
Yes. Mine too.
Eleanor lifted her head.
Stephen, forgive yourself. For mum. She wouldnt want you to suffer.
How do you know?
Because parents love their children. Even those like my own father crooked, painful, but they love. And they forgive everything.
She wept. I held her close.
Were both foolish. We clung to grudges, gnawed at ourselves. We should have simply simply forgiven.
Now we know.
It may be too late for them. But were alive. We can live without that burden.
Outside, snow fellthe first of the yearpure, white. Like forgiveness. Like a new page.
I thought of dad, of how we could have mended sooner. How much time wasted on anger.
At least I made it in time to say those words. To hear them. And that is enough.
Be wise, learn to forgive, because parents are not eternal, and we cannot choose them
