Taming the Author

30: Learn to Understand

This was an ethical question, and I was always bad at answering ethical questions.

I found it difficult to decide which decision was right and which was wrong because I knew how choosing one answer upset people. And I had enough of being treated like I didn't deserve to exist.

But as I watched Loramina look anxiously away - her glazed brown eyes filled with pain and guilt, I realized I didn't have a choice.

I had to decide if I would lie to Harriet or not. Omitting a fact, after all, was still a form of lying.

I suddenly wondered if Rupert knew about Loramina calling his daughter.

I took a deep breath.

"Are you still there?" I heard Harriet say from the other line.

"Y—yeah," I replied, wincing and looking down at my leather shoes. I realized I was still wearing my office clothes. I would have to go home and take a bath after breakfast.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I was stalling and I could only stall for so long.

"Can you at least answer this question for me," I said, inwardly asking myself if I was doing the right thing.

"What's the question?"

"Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive him?" I asked. I hoped she would say "yes." At least I could assure Rupert that he would be forgiven. He was Harriet's father. How long could anyone keep a grudge against their father?

Perhaps it depended on what kind of mistake the father made. But as far as I knew, and based on what I've figured out in Loramina's novelette, Rupert's only mistake was that he prioritized his career over his family and that he granted his wife's last wish.

It was Harriet's turn to take a deep breath. "You have no idea how painful it is," she answered.

"Is that a 'yes'? Or a 'no'?"

"I... I don't know," she said, sighing. "He left us, Dean! I need time."

I took another deep breath. "Harriet," I slowly began. "There might not be any more time."

"What do you mean?"

I waited for Loramina to slap me; to pinch me; to stop me from telling Harriet the truth. But she didn't do any of that. In fact, she just wiped her eyes.

Perhaps she also wanted Harriet to know. She just couldn't say it because she promised Rupert she wouldn't tell them.

"Do your kids love books?" I asked, knowing from the novelette that Harriet was the only child who had given Rupert grandchildren so far.

Silence echoed from the other line.

"Do they ask about their grandfather?" I asked.

"He's dead to them," she answered. "If you're trying to make me feel guilty—"

"Will you at least just try to tell them about him?" I asked; my vision blurring. To tell my kids my father was dead before he even suffered and died was just too much for me. And Rupert... I just couldn't see why—how his own child could kill him this way. "Tell them he tried. He did, didn't he?"

"Why are you telling me all this? What's going on?"

"If you find the time this week, please visit him. He really misses you - all of you." I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat. "Thank you for your time." I ended the call and handed Loramina her phone.