This time, neither of them accused me of anything.
A few days later, Susan’s lawyer called.
He told me that weeks earlier, Susan had decided her house should be sold, with most of the money donated to an organization that provided in-home care for elderly people living alone.
I smiled.
It was exactly the kind of thing Susan would do.
She didn’t leave me her house.
She didn’t leave me money either.
There was only one thing for me.
That old wooden chair.
And a small card.
I opened it inside her now-empty room.
In Susan’s handwriting, it said:
Jake, people thought you were waiting for my house. But you gave me what my own family hadn’t given me in five years — your time. Mark was right about you. Now stop living inside his final night and start living the life he would have wanted for you.
