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“I’m not sure. I was thinking of calling Mabel to see if she can have the important things shipped. We can put the rest up for sale,” I tell him.
“Oh, I can handle that,” Michael says.
“No, I don’t want you missing your classes for this,” I tell him.
“I won’t. Even if Aunt Mabel will sort it, I want to assist. Besides, I’ll be able to tell what we can and cannot keep,” he is right about this; besides, it will mean less work for Mabel.
“Okay, if you insist,” I tell him.
“Sure, Mom. I’ll be free from Friday all through to Tuesday. I can travel to New York Friday morning and return Sunday morning,” he says.
“Sure, that sounds like a plan. I’ll just see if Mabel is free so we don’t ruin her schedule,”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll be expecting to hear from you,” he says, and I smile.
“Thank you, son,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome, Mom. I have to go now. Talk to you later,” he says.
“Talk to you soon,” I reply.
I release a sigh the minute the call ends. I quickly dial Mabel’s number. All I get is the answering machine.
“I’ll just call her later,” I mutter before releasing a sigh. This feels like a new phase of my life is about to begin.
7
PHEBE
“Is that the last of your things?” Aunt Maryann asks with a frown.
“Yes, it is. I told you I asked them to send the necessary things,” I reply as I open the box with the label and documents. Michael and Mabel are angels. I can’t imagine life without them. They ensured I got everything so fast. I glance at my new place. It took only a few hours before Uncle Tyler made arrangements for this. It’s a small cozy apartment. Just what I like. All I need to do is finish arranging my things and start work tomorrow.
“Even at that, this isn’t a lot. Anyways, that’s beside the point. Mr. Donald’s assistant dropped by the house this morning,” she says.
“He did?”
“Yes. He said Mr. Donald told him to give this to you. The housekeepers found it when they were cleaning your father’s house, and he thought you might want to have it,” she says. I frown when I see the large book in her hand.
“Apparently, your father kept a diary,” she says, confirming my suspicion.
“Oh, he did,” I say while staring at the book. I can’t picture John owning a diary. He just didn’t seem like the type. He always frowned on what he termed weak emotions, and having a diary qualified as that in his books.
“I don’t think I want to have it,” I hesitantly admit.
“Why not?” Aunt Maryann asks, her curiosity piqued. I know it’s time to share the truth about my past with John.
“Aunt Maryann, I don’t think you want any reminder of John. He became dead to me nineteen years ago when he forcefully married me off to Jason,” I explain. Aunt MaryAnn’s eyes widen in shock. It’s as though she can’t believe her ears.
“What,” she whispers, her eyes wide with horror.
“Yes, Aunt. I faced a lot after you left, and I don’t want to revisit it. I just wanted you to know the truth and not think there’s any lingering affection between us,” I explain.
“Oh my goodness, how did I miss all of this. My dear, I’m so sorry. I should have insisted on taking you along with me,” she says, her eyes welling up with tears.
“You wanted to take me?” I ask, surprised by her revelation.
“Yes, I did. I begged your father to let me take care of you, but he was so stubborn. I thought it was because he loved you so much and would provide for you. I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” she confesses.
