Latenight call
Dont invite them! You hear me? Not under any pretext!
Its your birthday, James. Thirtyfive a proper milestone.
Whatever. I dont want to see them.
James, how long are you going to hold out? Its been ten years.
And another ten will pass. Twenty in total. To me theyre dead.
Emily slipped into the seat beside him, grasped his hand warm, tense. As always, when their parents were mentioned.
Andrew called. He asked if he could come.
Tom yes. One. Without the others.
He said Mum was crying, wanted to see you.
Let her cry. Where was she when they threw me out of the house? When I spent nights crashing at friends flats?
It was an old story. Emily knew it by heart. Second year at university, a disastrous semester, a threatened dismissal. Their father, a retired colonel, a man of iron principles. Disgrace the family get out. And James got the boot. Gone, nowhere to go
Youve turned things around. Finished another college, got a job.
On my own! Without them! And Tom later bought a flat! A car! A pet!
Dont be angry at your brother. He isnt to blame.
Im not angry. I just dont want to see my parents at the doorstep.
Emily sighed. A futile argument, as always.
That evening she washed the dishes, thinking of her own life. Of a mother she hadnt seen for three years before her last breath. Shed been hurt then by another petty quarrel, senseless punishments, humiliation. Shed moved to another city, changed her number.
Later her aunt called mother had died, liver disease. Shed been the only one left in the hospital ward.
Even now, in the night, her mothers voice haunted her:
Emily, forgive me, the line crackled.
Whats on your mind? James asked, hugging her from behind.
About Mum.
Are you still beating yourself up?
I cant stop. I should have come back, at least to say goodbye.
She treated you badly, Emily! She squandered your scholarship.
But she was ill. An addiction to strong drink is a disease.
And thats an excuse?
No. Still I could have forgiven. Now its too late.
James turned her toward him.
Dont torture yourself. You did what you could. You saved yourself.
But you lost your soul.
Nonsense. You have the brightest soul I know.
He kissed her temple and she nestled into his side. He didnt understand how to live with that weight of guilt.
They decided to keep the birthday lowkey at home. Fifteen guests close friends, colleagues, Andrew with his wife.
From dawn Emily bustled around the kitchen. Salads, a hot roast, a cake ordered from the bakery. James helped chopping veg, setting the table.
Tom will definitely be the only one coming? he asked amid the prep.
He promised.
Good.
By seven guests began to arrive. Andrew turned up at half past seven, followed by two more squeezing through the doorway.
Father silverhaired, rigid as a walking stick, in a crisp suit. Mother petite, in a floral dress, clutching a wrapped present.
James froze, bottle in hand.
What does this mean?
James, dear his mother stepped forward.
I didnt invite them.
We came on our own, his father snapped. We have a right!
No rights here! Andrew, what the hell?
Brother, calm down. Theyre my parents!
I dont care! Get out!
The room fell into a stiff silence; some holding glasses, some plates.
James, dont Emily touched his hand.
No, I need to! he shouted, breaking free. Youve not known me for ten years! You ignored my wedding! Refused to recognise my son! And now you show up?
We just wanted to wish you, his mother said, extending the gift. Happy birthday.
Put your wishes away I want nothing from you!
James, stop this tantrum! his father roared. Behave like a man!
How did you teach me? To throw out the son who slipped up?
You disgraced the family!
I was a student! Just a regular student who failed a semester!
Because of parties and girls!
And what? Thats a reason to throw a son out?
His mother began to sob. His fathers face flushed.
We gave you a lesson!
You ruined my life! If it werent for Emily, for my friends, where would I be?
Dont exaggerate! I survived!
Without you I survived! And Ill keep surviving!
Andrew tried to intervene.
Everyone, calm down. The guests
Let them leave! James turned to the door. Both of you, out!
His father straightened even more.
Fine. Now I know I made the right decision. All our estate will go to Andrew, down to the last penny. Youre nothing, a empty space!
I couldnt care less about your money!
Well see how you sing when were gone.
Off with you!
The parents left. Mother sniffed, father stalked out with heavy steps. Andrew chased after them, pleading.
The room fell silent.
Im sorry, James said to the remaining guests. Family quarrels.
Its alright, it happens, someone tried to ease the tension.
But the celebration was ruined. Guests drifted away quickly, leaving only Andrew, pale and dejected.
What were you thinking, bringing them? James asked, exhausted.
I hoped youd reconcile. Mum asked.
Let her ask all she wants. Im indifferent.
Brother, its wrong. Theyre old now.
And what? Old age is a pardon?
Dad spoke seriously about the will. He wont leave you anything.
And thank God. I dont need his handouts!
Andrew left. Emily silently cleared the table. James sank onto the sofa, his face buried in his palms.
Did I do the right thing?
I dont know. I understand you.
They didnt even apologise. Came as if nothing had happened.
Pride wont let you see that.
And my pride? Could it have been crushed?
Emily sat beside him, hugging him.
You cant be crushed. Sometimes sometimes its better to forgive before its too late.
Hows your mum?
Shes gone.
Thats different, Emily. Your mum was ill. Mine were just cruel.
Maybe. Or maybe they just didnt know how to love properly.
Three years later, a typical morning, James was getting ready for work when his phone rang Andrew.
Brother, Dads in hospital. Stroke.
Something inside him snapped.
Seriously?
Doctors say it might not be reversible.
I see.
Are you coming?
I dont know.
James, hes your father. Whatever happens.
James hung up. Emily watched, eyes questioning.
Dads on the brink.
Go.
Why? He doesnt want to see me.
And you? Do you want him to go like that?
James was silent, recalling childhood: his father teaching him to ride a bike, fishing by the lake, the firstgrade backpack and his firm hand.
When had it broken? When the protector turned into a tyrant?
Go, Emily urged. Later will be too late.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic. A frail woman in a grey cardigan sat in the corridor his mother, tiny, greyhaired, lost. She saw James and clutched at him.
James! Youre here!
She embraced him; he stood like a statue, unable to speak.
Hows Dad?
Bad. Doctors theyre not hopeful.
Can I see him?
Hes unconscious, but they say he can hear.
The ward: his father on a bed, tubes, drips, monitors. No longer the intimidating colonel, but a helpless old man.
James sat beside him, took his dry hand light as a feather.
Dad, its me. James.
Silence, only the beeping of machines.
I I want to say this. I was angry. I held a grudge for years. For kicking me out. For the indifference. For loving Tom more than me.
The hand twitched.
But you know what? I forgive you. I forgive you, Dad. Hear that? I forgive you for everything.
His fathers eyes fluttered open, cloudy yet recognisable.
Dad?
His lips moved.
James a barely audible word.
James leaned in.
…forg the breath escaped.
He heard it: I forgave you.
James felt a weight lift. His fathers eyes closed again, peaceful.
James stayed, talking about work, family, a grandson his father would never meet.
That night his father passed quietly, as if in sleep. His mother whispered that hed been waiting for forgiveness.
After the funeral, James and Emily sat at home, sipping tea in silence.
How are you? she asked.
It feels odd. I expected a rush of relief, but inside its empty.
You did right, driving out.
You know, he said forgive for the first time in his life.
My pride shattered before the world.
Mine too.
Emily lifted her head.
James, forgive yourself for Mum. She wouldnt want you to keep hurting.
How do you know?
Because parents love their children. Even the stubborn ones, in their twisted, painful way. They forgive everything.
Emily began to cry. James held her close.
Were both fools. We clung to grudges, gnawed at ourselves. We should have simply simply forgiven.
Now we know.
Now its late for them. But were alive. We can live without that burden.
Outside snow fell, the first clean white of the year, like forgiveness, a fresh page.
James thought of his father, of how much sooner they could have mended. Years wasted on anger. Yet at least hed spoken the words, heard them. That was enough.
Be wise, learn to forgive, for parents are not eternal, and we cannot choose them
