Chapter 17 - MILLICENT RETURNS TO A FAIRmont MEETING Three years after the playground, Millicent attended her first extended-family meeting.
Not as chair.
Not trustee.
Not decision-maker.
Guest shareholder in Legacy Properties.
She retained lawful economic interests.
No reason to confiscate them.
The meeting concerned refinancing.
She sat near the end of the table.
Independent chair ran agenda.
Conflict disclosures first.
Millicent disclosed:
Personal guarantee.
Legacy Properties interests.
Historical North Valley issue.
Everything.
I almost smiled.
Rules.
She caught me looking.
Did not smile.
Good.
Afterward she approached.
“Gideon.”
“Mom.”
Silence.
We had spoken through letters and two mediated sessions.
Not casual.
She said:
“Silas?”
“He’s nine.”
“I know how old he is.”
Fair.
“He’s good.”
“School?”
“Good.”
“Baseball?”
“Quit.”
She looked horrified.
“He loved baseball.”
“He loved snacks.”
That almost made her laugh.
Then:
“Can I ask something?”
“Yes.”
“Does he hate me?”
I thought.
“No.”
“Do you?”
Harder.
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
Then:
“I hated Rebecca sometimes.”
My chest tightened.
“Why are you telling me that?”
“Because I used to call it concern.”
I waited.
“She saw me clearly.”
“Yes.”
“She told me to stop treating your house like mine.”
I had never heard that.
“When?”
“Before she died.”
“What did you do?”
“I stopped going over for two weeks.”
Of course.
Then:
“You asked me why I was punishing you.”
I remembered.
Vaguely.
Millicent continued.
“I learned that if I withdrew help, you came toward me.”
That sentence was terrible.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
No excuse.
“I didn’t think of it as manipulation then.”
“But it was.”
“Yes.”
We stood in the hallway.
Then she said:
“I am sorry I used your grief as evidence that you needed me.”
That was different from:
Sorry I hurt you.
Specific.
I believed it.
Did not erase anything.
“You used Silas too.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“Worse.”
“Yes.”
I left.
That evening I told Dr. Keller.
She asked:
“Do you want more contact?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does Silas want?”
Separate question.
He wanted another supervised visit.
We arranged.
This one lasted thirty minutes.
He brought the red truck.
Millicent looked at it.
“I’m glad.”
Silas said:
“Dad fixed it bad.”
Even she laughed.
Then he gave her the dinosaur lamp.
The old one.
“I don’t use it.”
Millicent took it carefully.
“Thank you.”
“So you remember my room is at Dad’s.”
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.”
The therapist did not stop emotion.
Only pressure.
Millicent whispered:
“I remember.”
Silas nodded.
Then asked about cookies.
May you like
Children end scenes when adults would drag them into symbolism.
Good.
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