A few days later, Gwendolyn called.
I was working when her name appeared on my phone.
I considered ignoring it.
Then I answered.
"Wesley?"
"Yes."
"Can you come over?"
I looked at the screen.
"Why?"
"I want to talk."
I didn't respond immediately.
She continued.
"Bring Grant if he wants to come."
I agreed to ask him.
When I called Grant, he was suspicious.
"Why does she suddenly want to talk?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think she's ready to tell us everything?"
"I hope so."
Grant agreed to come.
We arrived at Gwendolyn's house that evening.
She opened the door before we rang.
Her expression was different.
There was no immediate complaint.
No accusation about why we had come.
She simply stepped aside.
We entered the living room.
On the coffee table was a small silver-framed photograph.
It showed Raymond.
I hadn't seen that picture in years.
Gwendolyn noticed me looking.
"I found it while cleaning."
I nodded.
We sat down.
For several minutes, she stared at her hands.
Then she began.
"I know you boys think I did something terrible."
Grant didn't answer.
I looked at her.
"Did you?"
She swallowed.
"I made mistakes."
"That's not what we're asking."
"I know."
She looked at the photograph.
"Your father wanted things to be different."
I waited.
She explained that she had always wanted children.
When the adoption became possible, she believed it would finally give her the family she had imagined.
She had been happy at first.
She had prepared the bedroom.
She had bought clothes.
She had imagined birthdays and Christmas mornings.
I remembered those early years.
There had been good moments.
There had been Raymond's toy trucks and the matching bicycles.
But there had also been Gwendolyn's anger.
She continued.
"When Sarah started contacting Raymond, I became frightened."
"Why?"
She looked at me.
"Because I thought you would leave."
Grant shook his head.
"We were three years old."
"I know."
"You think we would have abandoned you because we knew our mother?"
Gwendolyn lowered her eyes.
"I didn't think clearly."
I felt anger building.
"Then why didn't you stop after Dad asked you to?"
She wiped her cheek.
"Because I couldn't."
The room became silent.
She explained that after Raymond died, she had felt completely alone.
She had already lost her husband.
She feared losing the boys she had raised too.
Instead of allowing us to have a relationship with Sarah, she had convinced herself that keeping her away would preserve our family.
But the longer she kept the secret, the harder it became to admit what she had done.
Every year added another reason to remain silent.
Every unanswered question became another argument.
And every birthday passed without Sarah became another opportunity she refused to give back.
I looked at her.
"Do you understand what that did to us?"
She nodded.
"I do now."
"No. I don't think you do."
Grant spoke quietly.
"We grew up believing our mother didn't want us."
Gwendolyn began crying.
"You had me."
Grant shook his head.
"We had Dad."
She looked at him.
"And I was there."
"Sometimes."
That single word seemed to hurt her.
But Grant didn't take it back.
I remembered asking her to attend our graduation.
I remembered her saying we were no longer her responsibility.
I remembered how carefully I had chosen her birthday present.
And I remembered standing in her hallway while she laughed about keeping us fooled.
I looked at her.
"Did you ever tell Sarah that we didn't want to see her?"
Gwendolyn didn't answer.
I asked again.
"Did you?"
Finally, she nodded.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"When?"
"Several times."
"What did you say?"
She looked away.
"I told her you were settled. I told her contact would confuse you."
"Did we ever say that?"
"No."
I stared at her.
She had not only hidden the truth.
She had spoken for us.
She had taken away our chance to choose.
Grant stood up.
"That's enough."
Gwendolyn reached toward him.
"Please sit down."
He remained standing.
"I spent years thinking my mother had abandoned me. Do you understand that?"
She began crying harder.
"I never wanted you to suffer."
"But we did."
I looked at Raymond's photograph.
I thought about how he had tried to prevent this.
He had written letters.
He had kept documents.
He had asked Grandma Opal for help.
And yet, twenty years later, we were still sitting in the same living room trying to recover the truth.
I asked Gwendolyn whether she had any more letters from Sarah.
She shook her head.
"Not that I know of."
"What happened to the ones you received?"
She looked toward the hallway.
"I kept some."
Grant turned.
"Where?"
"In a drawer."
I felt my heart beating faster.
"Can we see them?"
Gwendolyn hesitated.
Then she stood and walked upstairs.
We waited.
When she returned, she carried a small bundle tied with an old ribbon.
She placed it on the table.
I recognized Sarah's handwriting.
There were several envelopes.
Some were unopened.
Others had been opened and folded again.
Grant picked up one.
The date was from the year after Raymond died.
Sarah had written that she hoped the boys were doing well.
She asked whether she could send birthday presents.
I looked at Gwendolyn.
"Why did you keep these?"
She looked down.
"I didn't know what to do with them."
"You could have given them to us."
"I was afraid."
I took the letters.
There was no satisfaction in holding them.
Only sadness.
Gwendolyn finally looked at us.
"I know I can't change what happened."
"No," I said. "You can't."
She nodded.
"I want you to know that I did love you."
I believed that she might have loved us in her own way.
But love was not enough to excuse what she had done.
I stood up.
"We need time."
Grant followed me.
At the door, Gwendolyn spoke again.
"Will you come back?"
I looked at her.
"I don't know."
For once, I didn't give her the answer she wanted simply to make her feel better.
We left the house carrying Sarah's letters.
And I understood that forgiveness, if it ever came, would have to begin with the truth.
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: The Letters Gwendolyn Had Hidden Showed Us How Many Years Our Mother Had Spent Waiting for a Chance to Reach Us
I Thought Bringing Her Birthday Flowers Might Finally Make Her See Me as Her Son
Part 14 of 20
