Chapter 9 - Hallie’s ListHallie made a list.
She used purple marker.
At the top she wrote:
THINGS GRANDPA HAS TO DO BEFORE I WANT HIM AT MY HOUSE.
Say sorry to me in person.
Do not say “next year.”
Do not give Brett secret better things.
Do not tell me girls marry and boys get companies.
Say sorry to Brett too.
Listen when Mom talks.
Do not make Dad scared about money.
Tell us about Great-Grandma Ruth.
Do not lie.
Brett added number ten.
Bring cookies.
Hallie crossed it out.
“That makes it sound like he can buy us.”
Brett nodded seriously.
“Good point.”
He rewrote:
Cookies are optional.
Claire found the list.
She read it twice.
Then asked permission to photograph it.
“Why?”
“I think Grandpa should see it.”
Hallie hesitated.
“What if he gets mad?”
“Then he isn’t ready.”
That answer made her feel strangely powerful.
Not power like Stanley’s.
Not money.
Choice.
Claire sent the photograph.
Stanley replied one hour later.
Tell Hallie I agree.
Hallie frowned.
“He has to tell me.”
Claire smiled.
“I thought you might say that.”
Two days later, Stanley came to the front door.
No gifts.
No boxes.
No expensive car waiting dramatically in the circular drive—although, technically, his expensive car was still there.
Hallie stood beside Brett.
Their parents remained behind them.
Stanley looked nervous.
Hallie had never seen him nervous.
He knelt.
That alone surprised her.
“I read your list.”
Hallie nodded.
“I agree to it.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Cookies optional?”
Stanley almost smiled.
“Especially that part.”
Hallie tried not to smile back.
Stanley’s expression became serious.
“I’m sorry.”
Hallie waited.
“For what?”
Her parents exchanged a glance.
Stanley understood.
“For giving Brett a birthday present and deliberately giving you nothing.”
Hallie’s eyes began filling.
“For telling you your birthday could wait.”
Another tear formed.
“For making you feel less important because you are a girl.”
Hallie swallowed.
Stanley continued.
“For making your parents afraid to disagree with me.”
Ethan looked down.
“And for putting Brett in a position where enjoying something made him feel like he was hurting you.”
Brett’s face changed.
Stanley looked at him.
“I’m sorry to you too.”
Brett nodded.
“Okay.”
Hallie asked, “Why did you do it?”
Stanley sat on the floor now.
Not because he needed to.
Because Hallie was sitting.
He wanted to be at her level.
“I grew up believing one person had to carry everything.”
“Brett.”
“Yes.”
“Why not me?”
“Because I was taught to think sons carried families.”
“By your dad?”
“Yes.”
“But Great-Grandma didn’t think that.”
Stanley’s eyes became wet.
“No.”
“Why didn’t you listen to her?”
That question hurt more.
Stanley looked toward Claire.
Then back.
“Because listening to her would have meant admitting some of the choices I made were wrong.”
Hallie thought about it.
“Like your sisters.”
“Yes.”
“Did you call them?”
“Margaret.”
“What did she say?”
“That I hurt her.”
“Did you say sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Did she forgive you?”
“No.”
Hallie seemed surprised.
Stanley smiled sadly.
“She doesn’t have to.”
Hallie stared.
That was new.
Adults usually told children apologies should be followed by forgiveness.
Stanley continued:
“Saying sorry is my responsibility. Forgiving me is hers.”
Hallie looked at Claire.
Mother nodded.
Hallie turned back.
“Then I’m not forgiving you yet.”
Stanley’s eyes reddened.
“Okay.”
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Sad?”
“Yes.”
Hallie considered.
“Me too.”
They sat quietly.
Then Stanley reached into his coat.
Hallie’s body tensed.
He noticed.
Slowly, he removed a folded piece of paper.
“No present.”
“What is it?”
“A copy of something.”
He handed it to her.
It was Ruth’s handwriting.
Hallie could not read the old cursive well.
Stanley read:
This family will survive only if its children are allowed to become themselves instead of being assigned the lives we fear losing.
Hallie looked up.
“Great-Grandma wrote that?”
“Yes.”
“About you?”
“Probably.”
“Did you listen?”
Stanley almost laughed.
“Apparently not enough.”
Brett sat beside Hallie.
“What happens to the company now?”
Stanley looked at both children.
“You turn seven.”
Brett frowned.
“That happened already.”
“I know.”
“You said—”
“I mean nothing happens.”
Stanley smiled faintly.
“You go to school. You make friends. You change your minds fifty times. Maybe neither of you wants the company.”
Hallie asked, “What if I do?”
“Then you learn about it.”
“What if Brett does?”
“Same.”
“What if both?”
“Then someday you figure it out together.”
Brett smiled.
“What if neither?”
Stanley looked around the mansion.
“Then I suppose a group of adults will have to survive the shock.”
Hallie laughed.
It was the first time she had laughed with him since the birthday.
Stanley did not reach for her.
He did not ask for a hug.
He simply stayed where he was.
That mattered.
Before leaving, he stopped beside Ethan.
“I sent the loan amendment.”
Ethan nodded.
“My attorney is reviewing it.”
Stanley almost looked offended.
Then caught himself.
“Good.”
At the door, Hallie called:
“Grandpa?”
He turned.
“Cookies next time.”
Stanley smiled.
“Optional?”
Hallie finally smiled back.
“Not anymore.”
May you like
It was not forgiveness.
But it was the first invitation.
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