Chapter 8 - A Mother’s Legacy
Six months later.
The Seattle sun sparkled over Puget Sound as warm summer air swept through the open windows of our new home in the hills overlooking the water.
In the backyard, a large wooden gazebo had been built near the flower gardens. Banners hung from the cedar posts reading: HAPPY 7TH BIRTHDAY, MAYA!
Laughter filled the yard. Cami and Sophia were busy running around with a group of new school friends, organized in a chaotic game of lawn tag. Marcus was at the grill, flipping burgers and laughing with our neighbors.
Sitting in a comfortable armchair near the patio was Arthur Sr., who had relocated to Seattle three weeks prior to be close to his granddaughters. He held a cup of tea, watching Maya open her birthday presents with a gentle, contented smile on his weathered face.
Beatrice remained in Chicago, living alone in a downsized condo, ignored by high society, her remaining days spent arguing with collection attorneys and dealing with Diego’s ongoing criminal proceedings. Arthur had moved to a small apartment in southern Indiana, working as a low-level sales representative for an independent furniture distributor, completely removed from the executive world he had once taken for granted.
Chloe walked over to where I was standing near the patio doors, holding two glasses of fresh lemonade. She handed one to me.
“How’s the new expansion plan going, Mom?” Chloe asked with a smile.
“We just signed the lease for the new Seattle distribution hub this morning,” I replied, taking a sip. “The company is on track for its highest revenue quarter in history.”
“And the girls' trust?”
I looked at my eldest daughter, marveling at how much she had grown. “The Bennett-Vance Trust now holds sixty-seven percent of the firm’s equity, divided equally among the four of you. When you turn twenty-one, Chloe, you’ll take your seat on the board.”
Chloe looked out at her sisters playing in the yard, then down at the water in the distance.
“You know, Mom,” Chloe said quietly, leaning her head gently against my shoulder. “When Dad walked away from us outside that courthouse, I thought there was something wrong with us. I thought girls just weren't enough.”
May you like
I wrapped my arm tightly around her waist, kissing the top of her head.
“You were always more than enough, Chloe,” I whispered, my voice thick with deep, maternal pride. “He was just too small to see it.”
