“Neal?” she said gently, “what are you looking for?”
“I… I don’t know,” he replied honestly, pulling at the contents of another drawer.
Elena said something in response, but he didn’t hear it. His eyes fell on a yellowing letter that held his father’s neat scrawl. George’s letter. The one he had never been permitted to see. Neal took it out gingerly and shook the dust from the page. He wondered for a moment if he should read it or not. George had never allowed him to, but Neal’s desperation outweighed his conscience at that moment, and he sank onto the bed with the letter in hand.
To my son, George,
I want you to know that some of the best days of my life, were the ones you spent with me as a teenager, following me around the office, hanging on my every word and trying to absorb as much information as you could. You were always a hard worker, and a determined one. I knew from the beginning that I would never have to worry about you. You are a survivor.
Which is why I feel like I can confide in you. George – I’m worried about your brother. Neal was always a sensitive boy. He has become a sensitive man. So much so, that he shies away from life because he’s afraid to live it. His mother’s death was too much for him to bear at such a young age, and he was so very close to her. It was like they had their own language sometimes.
Even I was jealous of their connection at times, but I suppose it was fair. They had their own world together, and we had ours.
When he lost her, he changed, and fool that I was, I assumed it would correct itself as he got older. Neal’s life; it's empty, George, and he needs to know that living is more than just parties and girlfriends. It’s purpose and direction and family. It’s earning something worthwhile. It’s having something important at the end of the day that is completely your own.
I wanted to teach him so many things George, and I thought I had all the time in the world to do it. I’m writing this letter to you, because I need to ask you something. I need to ask you to look after your brother, to help him find his purpose in life. To help him find something worthwhile to hold on to, so that he stops being so very lonely. I might have told him all this myself, but there’s always been distance between him and I, and I have no one to blame for that but myself, and I have to admit – I’m scared.
I know this is the end for me, and I expected some burst of courage that would help me complete all my unfinished business, but I guess that’s just a myth they tell you, to hold regret at bay a little while longer.
You are twice the man that I am George. I know how much you’re capable of. I know how much you can accomplish. I trust you – not just with my business, but with Neal too. He’s a lost soul, George and he needs your help. I know how unfair it is of me, to leave you with so many responsibilities, at so young an age, and to leave you to finish the things that I should have done myself, but you were always the better man, and I know you will do a better job of everything than I ever could have done. I want you to know how proud I am of you. You are the man I always wished I could be.
I love you son,
Your Father
Neal stared at the letter. When his mind had stopped racing, he started reading it again, and when he was finished, he read it a third time. Elena just watched him, aware that his face was displaying an array of competing emotions. She understood that the letter he was reading was bringing on more emotions than he cared to feel. She walked over to him, and sat down on the bed next to him. He didn’t seem to notice that she was even in the room.
“Neal?” Elena asked uncertainly, “is everything OK?”
He stammered incomprehensibly for a moment and then he took a deep breath and collected himself.
“I found the letter my dad left to my brother before he died,” he explained shakily.
Then he passed it to her.
“Are you sure?” Elena asked, taking the letter gingerly.
He nodded and Elena read through it carefully. When she had finished she looked up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You were right,” Neal said quietly, “my father thought the same thing. Apparently, I’m too scared to live my life, and he was too much of a coward to tell me.”
“He was just scared, Neal.”
“He was my father,” Neal said harshly. “I should have been important enough to him to try. At least to try.”
“I know,” Elena agreed immediately, “I agree. He should have tried to talk to you. He should have attempted to close the distance between the two of you, but… parents, they’re human too. They’re flawed. They make mistakes. At least your father realized he had made them in the first place.”
“He realized,” Neal qualified, “but he made no move to correct them.”
“He trusted your brother to."
“He passed the buck.”
Elena was about to say something else, but she stopped herself. Neal was hurt, the wound was fresh and nothing she could say would make it less painful. She let him be angry, knowing that she would have wanted the same.
Neal stared down at the letter Elena had passed back to him. A part of him was angry for the reasons he had just told Elena, but a larger part of him was angry for a whole other reason. The letter was a testament to George’s relationship with their father. It was apparent how very close they had been.
Neal had always known that they had shared a bond that he had never had with his father, but seeing it on paper was different from suspecting it in your heart. Certain phrases stuck out to him – words that were meant only for George to hear.