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Obviously not, but at the same time, I wanted what was left to me.
The funeral was still heavy on my heart as well, regardless that I tried to act unfazed. It really hurt that my dad was gone. I assumed I’d made peace with the fact that he and I would never have a relationship, that my dad was set in his ways and would never care what I did one way or the other, but as I sat reading his letter from the will, tears stuck to my lashes and a sob gathered in my throat.
My Dearest Callie,
Don’t know how I even got to this point…the one where I can’t pick up the phone and just call you. It’s my own fault, I know that. So, before I lay anything out, you should know that I’m sorry.
I am so sorry, sweetheart.
I was a failure as a father and have so many regrets…more than you’ll ever know.
I found out I was sick about six months ago; I didn’t tell a soul, and I know that I could have tracked you down. I could have had Hamish look you up. He’s old as hell but he knows how to track. Never left those bounty hunting days behind. But I was scared, sweetie. I was scared you’d reject me, even knowing I was sick, knowing my time was limited. Then I thought about what I’d even say to you, and I panicked.
You need to know that you were my sun, Callie. Everything since has just been cloud cover and rain. I’ve learned how to live with it, but I’ve been miserable every day since. I hate what happened to you. There’s a part of me that can never forgive myself for them taking you. After the incident, I sort of just shut down, and I knew back then you’d take it personal. I knew it, and I still did it.
It may be hard to understand, but me shutting you out forced you away, and by you leaving, it meant you’d live.
That had to be enough for me.
I never wanted any of this, never wanted you in this life, but I didn’t know any other way of living.
I can’t make up for a lifetime of wrongdoings in one letter, but I can try and fix what’s left of my legacy.
I’m leaving you the club.
It was the thing that drove us apart, Callie.
I know that now. I wish I could go back in time and choose you. I would have chosen you a thousand times over. This club was a placeholder in my life, and while it did mean something, because it gave me a family, it also cost me the only family that mattered.
I’m leaving it to you because you, of all people, deserve to choose its fate.
The Riders can move somewhere else. With me gone, maybe they’ll disband and gather under a new name. Maybe all my sins can be washed away with whatever you decide to do with it. Sell it. Burn it. Do whatever you want with it, honey. Just don’t live there. Don’t tie yourself to that place, or that property. You can get a decent price for it since it’s paid off. Keep the cash and enjoy what’s left of this life. I love you my beautiful girl, and I wish I would have done better by you.
Allow me, in death, to correct some wrongs.
-Dad.
I was slightly shocked that he didn’t reference his other letters that he’d sent for the past three years, nor did he mention Wes a single time. I was jealous of the boy I once loved, who used to rescue me from the chaos of the club. I still could not figure out why he had continued to stay with the Stone Riders.
It didn’t make any sense.
Wes came from one of those families that went to church, did family photos, and took summer vacations. He was smart. Graduated at sixteen, then started his college courses as I was still struggling with my basic level classes in high school.
He used to help me.
I’d recline against his chest while he held my textbook and began to instruct me on the topic in a way that made sense. He was the reason I graduated from high school.
I assumed he’d go to some specialty school…maybe something for mechanics. He was always so good with his hands. When we broke up, he was still deciding where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do.
My throat grew tight, like a golf-ball sized regret was suddenly stuck inside. Every now and then I’d mentally trace over the way we’d ended and rehash all the ways we broke apart, inspecting it for places I could have had a different outcome. But most of the time, I’d just shake my head and the pain would storm my emotions like a thunderhead.
I focused back on the letter, thinking over the other letters in my top drawer.
Wes was wrong. My father was literally telling me to get rid of the clubhouse.
To be honest, there was a tiny flicker in the back of my mind that made me inspect his choice of words carefully. He seemed insistent on it, and from everything I knew about the man, it did seem like the last thing he would have wanted. Maybe getting sick had changed him.
Maybe he really did have time to reflect on his failures.
