Patricia continued reviewing the papers.
She moved slowly.
She didn't rush through anything.
I appreciated that.
I had spent six months collecting information, and I wanted to understand it properly.
David looked at several pages.
Ashley barely looked at them.
Richard sat quietly with his hands folded.
Linda occasionally glanced toward her daughter.
I noticed that Ashley kept looking at the briefcase.
Perhaps she had expected Patricia to arrive with some dramatic accusation.
Perhaps she had thought I would become embarrassed and send her away.
I didn't know.
What I did know was that I wasn't going to apologize for wanting to understand my finances.
Patricia placed another page in front of me.
"This summarizes the assistance Margaret has provided."
I looked at the figures.
They brought back memories.
A telephone call.
A request.
A promise that things would be better next month.
Another call.
Another emergency.
I remembered sitting at my kitchen table with Harold's old calculator beside me.
I remembered wondering whether I was helping enough.
Now I was looking at the total.
More than seventy thousand dollars.
It was strange how different a number looked when it was written down.
David cleared his throat.
"Mom, we appreciate what you've done."
I looked at him.
"I hope you do."
He nodded.
"We've had a difficult time."
"I know."
"We never wanted you to feel used."
I looked at Ashley.
She was staring at the table.
Then I looked back at David.
"Sometimes what people intend and what they actually do are two different things."
He didn't answer.
Patricia explained that she had helped me organize my financial information so I could make decisions with a clear understanding of my resources.
She didn't make promises about what the family should do.
She simply answered the questions I asked.
Ashley interrupted.
"So what happens now? Are you saying you're not going to help us anymore?"
I took a moment.
I had asked myself that question many times.
I loved my son.
I wanted him to have a good life.
But I also wanted to be able to live my own life without worrying about the next emergency.
"I haven't made every decision yet."
Ashley looked frustrated.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the honest answer."
Patricia closed one folder and opened another.
She reminded me that my financial decisions belonged to me.
I had the right to understand my accounts.
I had the right to decide what support I could afford.
And I had the right to ask questions before agreeing to anything.
Nothing about that seemed unreasonable.
Yet Ashley looked as though I had announced something terrible.
Richard finally spoke.
"Margaret has every right to know what she's doing with her money."
Ashley turned toward him.
"Dad, this isn't your business."
Richard remained calm.
"She's my family too. And she's been generous to all of us."
Linda nodded.
"I didn't know how much she had helped you."
Ashley looked away.
I felt uncomfortable watching the conversation.
I hadn't invited Richard and Linda to judge their daughter.
I had invited them because they were part of the family weekend.
But they were now seeing something I had been trying to explain to myself for months.
I looked at Patricia.
"Thank you. That's enough for now."
She nodded and gathered the pages.
David looked surprised.
"You're finished?"
"For this morning."
Ashley stood up.
"Then can we please get back to the birthday?"
I looked toward the dining room.
The flowers were still beautiful.
The catering crew had arranged everything.
The food was ready.
I could smell fresh bread from the kitchen.
It was strange.
A birthday celebration had been planned around the hope that everybody would feel happy.
Yet the people who had benefited most from my generosity seemed least comfortable when I asked for an explanation.
I stood.
"Yes. We can have the celebration."
Patricia remained beside me.
She had brought her briefcase, but she wasn't going to take over the family gathering.
I appreciated that too.
David approached me near the kitchen.
"Mom, can we talk privately?"
I looked at him.
"About what?"
"All of this."
I nodded.
"Not right now."
He seemed disappointed.
I didn't feel good about that.
But I had spent too many years allowing every difficult conversation to happen on somebody else's schedule.
For once, I wanted to enjoy the day I had arranged.
I walked toward the flowers.
One of the arrangements had been placed near the window.
White flowers.
A few pale pink ones.
I touched a petal.
Harold would have liked them.
I wished I could have celebrated with him.
Then I heard Ashley speaking to David behind me.
Her voice was low.
I couldn't make out every word.
But I heard enough to know she wasn't happy about Patricia's visit.
David answered quietly.
I didn't turn around.
I wasn't going to spend my birthday listening at doors again.
The difference was that this time I already knew what I needed to know.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Birthday Table Was Finally Ready, but the Empty Chair Beside Me Reminded Me of Everything I Had Lost
I Thought My Seventieth Birthday Would Bring My Family Closer, Until I Heard What They Really Thought of Me
Part 6 of 24
