My stomach tightened.
“Why?” I asked.
“I wanted to update my will,” she replied. “I wanted to make some things clear.”
I sat down.
“What did you decide?” I asked.
She took a slow breath.
“I decided that when I die, this house and everything that’s left in my savings will go to you and to a small scholarship fund at the community college,” she said. “None of it will go to Mark.”
The words hung in the air between us.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “That’s a big decision. You can change your mind if you want to.”
She nodded.
“I’m sure,” she said. “I thought about it very carefully. I thought about who has been here with me. I thought about who has treated me with respect. I thought about who has other safety nets.”
She looked around the small kitchen.
“This house is not much,” she said. “But it’s mine. I’ve spent years paying for it. I’ve gone without many things so that I could keep it. I’ve skipped new clothes, vacations, dinners out. When I leave this earth, I want what I have worked for to go to someone who sees me and to young people who know what it means to struggle.”
“What about Mark?” I whispered.
She sighed.
“Mark has wealthy in-laws,” she said. “He has access to resources I never dreamed of. If I left this house to him, it would become part of their property. They would redecorate it, rent it, sell it, do whatever they wanted, and I would become a story they tell about how generous they are to the less fortunate side of the family.”
She shook her head.
“I’m not punishing him,” she said. “I’m simply choosing where my life’s work goes. That’s my right.”
“Are you going to tell him?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I am. He deserves to hear it from me.”
The opportunity came a few months later when Mark and Ella invited us to dinner at their condo.
“We want to talk about future plans,” Mark’s message said. “It’s exciting stuff.”
Mom asked if I would go with her. I agreed.
Their condo was beautiful. High ceilings, tall windows, expensive furniture. There was a large framed photo from their wedding on the wall. It showed Mark and Ella laughing, holding hands. Confetti filled the air around them. No one else’s faces were visible.
We sat at their sleek dining table with plates of food that came from a very obviously catered source, even though Ella mentioned trying a new recipe. Halfway through the meal, Ella folded her hands.
“We have some news,” she said.