"So what do you want to do now?" Kenna looked over to her best friend, Nikki, wondering what else she had up her sleeve.
Nikki simply shook her golden locks from side to side and pretended to lock her lips shut. "It's your 21st, and I promised you a night you would never forget, so sit back and enjoy the ride, my friend." She let out a giggle of excitement that I didn't quite feel.
We had been in Vegas for 24 hours, landing early enough in the evening; had a great night's rest after room service; got up bright and early; and had seen so much already. We caught a few live shows and walked the left-hand side of the Vegas Strip.
I already felt beat, thankful I wore sneakers, or my feet would have been killing me by now. How Nikki survived in her heels was still beyond me; then again, I don't think she owned flat shoes.
Thinking about this trip brought back painful memories; the past year was like a never-ending true-life drama that I got to star in. Mom had finally let go after her 7-month battle with cancer and passed away 2 months ago. I still felt hollow and empty; she should have been here.
When Mom was first diagnosed with cancer, it spread like wildfire. The hope we had that she could beat this died 3 months into the diagnosis; it was aggressive and broke me in ways I would never recover from. The number of procedures and treatments Mom needed had me worried half to death.
Then there were the expense concerns; I kept expecting that at any moment the hospital would ask for payment before they would administer treatment. Mom was in so much pain in the end; it was always on my mind, worrying she would need something and we could not afford it. Mom kept telling me not to worry about finance, but it was just hard to believe.
I tried my best to make her comfortable and even took the year off to take care of her. We had a few nurses during that time helping out from hospice, but it was difficult seeing someone I had always seen as the strongest person alive bedridden and unable to care for herself. I expected a lifetime of hospital bills and debts when she passed on, only to find out not only were all her treatments, hospital stays, and assisted living all paid in full. Even the move back home and the nurse were all covered.
I knew we were stable financially, under normal circumstances that is. I was blessed; Mom got me a car when I turned 16, nothing flashy, and safety was her priority. In my Nissan we had many adventures, and I missed her off-key car karaoke when we drove around. I also knew the private high school I went to cost a pretty penny, but she always told me I qualified for rather large scholarships, so that was never a concern. I had graduated 2 years ahead of time, so it wasn't that hard to believe, but I didn't know our finances were so well-off that it would make sure I would want for nothing for the rest of my life after Mom passed. I would give it all away if it meant more time with her.
There was so much Mom never told me; then again, I never had reason to ask. I never knew the house had already been put in a trust with my name on it as the sole beneficiary when I was 7 years old. I also never knew there was a trust fund and life insurance with my name on it with more 0s behind the numbers that even my children's children would be set for life if I managed it well.
I didn't know that Mom's active account balances were as healthy as they were and she had no debt. She loved writing and had made more than I honestly thought possible as a pseudonymous author from her novels and shorts; some had even become Hallmark movies. She had even sent her publishers 3 more books set to release at very specific dates that would add to my ever-increasing trust. Mom had a way with money and had made a few strategic investments over the past few years. I never knew she understood anything about that sort of thing, but even her money kept making money.
Clearly Mom knew more than I could even understand; she even had a financial advisory firm assisting me in making sure I made wise financial decisions and made sure that it had capable custodians and insurances protecting it. It all made my head spin.
There was one account in her name that received a rather moderate monthly deposit from somewhere that Mom had never touched or mentioned. The lawyers had asked me what to do with it, but I still had no idea. They said it had to go into probate first, as it was the only account of hers she had in her birth name, not allocated or connected to the trust or in any way connectable to the identity Mom had created for us. The account lay untouched from the day it opened; Mom had never made a single purchase from it. Money only ever went in from an unknown source, and now it was currently frozen. She also had never updated the addresses and details, and all communication for that account was strictly managed through the lawyers as per my mother's instructions. I had more than I needed, so I let the lawyers deal with it.
When I went to college, I had worked my butt off to study veterinary science and got scholarships that covered everything. I had taken just 4 years to finish a six-year program; I focused solely on my studies, and having started college at 16, I was not exactly on everyone's party list. I was naive in many ways, but I never once doubted my values and morals. Mom was proud of me, and that's what mattered.
Mom used to joke during my early college days about the constant studying and the constant assignments and deadlines. She asked if I would melt if she opened the curtains and encouraged me to slow down. Even towards the end of my degree, when I finally started resembling the age of some of the students on campus, partying it up just wasn't on my mind.
Nikki pulled me a little out of my shell when she finally came to college, and Mom loved her all the more for it. I was looking for a decent roommate to split costs at the time, and she came into my life. Mom was just happy I wasn't alone and that there was someone I could count on that I was close to. Her family had unofficially adopted me and Mom into their family, and I could never repay the care and love they had shown me.
Mom's funeral was small, with only close friends Mom had made from the small town we lived in attending, and Nikki's family had taken time out of their lives to help me and stand by me. Mom didn't want her family notified; she did not want them to discover anything about me. She had once told me her wishes, and I respected that. The only other request Mom had in her will regarding her parents and sister was that at all costs I avoid and be careful of them knowing about me and not look for my father.
Mom’s meds were really strong towards the end, and she opened up a lot more about them. She would tell me characters in her books were based on some of her family, her parents and sister mainly; they were the villains or bad guys in her stories, she would tell me. She would tell me to read her books to prepare for when I met them. She would tell me they were schemers and I needed to know everything they had done, but she would not tell me herself what they did. Mom would tell specific character names and books and who she had used to create them to reflect real life. Mom would tell me I would have to read to really understand.
Then she would tell me not all of her family members were bad; she would tell me she missed her brother and grandparents. I loved hearing stories about them all; Mom would say they were the good guys. She never told me which characters specifically she had based them on, and to be honest, I had read her books so long ago that I couldn't remember them that well; I had started re-reading them all recently. As much as I wanted to believe it was the meds, the scared voice and nervousness my mom displayed when talking to me made me uneasy, filled with questions and trying to understand.
Mom would switch back to her parents and sister again and would caution me if they ever were to find me, "You must never give them a single cent and never allow any access to any of my accounts to them, and make sure they have no way to control you, no weakness to manipulate you.” She would repeat this over and over towards the end. These provisions and protections were already in her will, the lawyers told me; even if something were to happen to me, Mom's parents and sister would never see a cent of the money she had worked for. The lawyer said Mom made sure in every way possible no one could touch what she left me, and if they thought harming me would make them benefit, they would get a rude awakening. I was concerned that she even had to have those safety measures and provisions included in her will in the first place. Could they really be that bad?
The letter the attorney had handed me at the reading of her will remained unopened at the bottom of my handbag until I could gather a lot more courage to read it. It was supposed to explain a lot of moms' past, or so the lawyers said; it was answers to questions that they said I had always wanted to know. I had stared at it so many times the sides of the envelope had begun to fray from my handling it; I still felt like I was not ready for the answers she wanted to give. These would be her last words to me. It would make it final; she wasn't coming back. I just couldn't take that step yet. I was not about to go looking for any of Mom's relatives in any case, but the pain I saw in those last few months that she had in her eyes was something I would never forget; it hurt her more than the cancer did.
In the 21 years of my life not once had anyone, to my knowledge, come looking for us. So why would I want anything to do with them? If what Mom said was true and her book characters were really based on them, then that really was even more reason to stay away. I knew of Mom's family; Mom had spared so many details. “They were not relevant," she would tell me. I knew who they were in name only and where they lived or at least which state. I knew I had an aunt and uncle; both had a few kids, and that was all I needed to know, which was what Mom would tell me, but the villains in her books were meticulously detailed, and that spoke volumes to me as I had recently begun reading her books again.
I also never tried to look into it too much. Mom would get a far-off look in her eyes whenever she thought of them; I could almost feel her pain and agony she felt; it was so strong and suffocating when she thought of them. So, I stopped asking about them when I was younger. No one who brought someone as kind and loving as mom to tears deserves my respect or time, and she cried a lot of the years. She tried to hide it, but I always knew. She didn't need them, and I don't need them! I don't want them in my life! Not after how they hurt her. She never spoke about my father. I didn't know who he was, but again, towards the end, she would tell me he was a tragic victim just like her.
"You're doing it again." Nikki called me out every time she saw my face crinkle and eyes tear when I started thinking of Mom again.
"Sorry" was all I could say. She looked at me with so much empathy; she also loved Mom, and this week was also hard on her.
"You promised her today would be amazing, no matter what! She made me promise to make sure that happened. Don't make me break that." She gave me a pained look that dug deep into my heart.
Nikki was right. We promised Mom this week would be amazing, filled with laughter, joy, fun memories, and celebration! I intended to keep that promise!