A Priceless Inheritance

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Stella? You up?”

I heard the muffled words and pulled the blanket over my head. I heard the door open and the sound of footsteps across the floor. The metal raking against metal was like nails on a chalkboard as a stream of light illuminated the floral pattern on my blanket.

“Stella…” she said again as she started to ruffle around the mess on the floor.

“Stop trying to clean up,” I moaned. “It’s fine.”

I heard footsteps moving closer and felt her sit down next to me. She put her hand on my shoulder.

“You’ve gotta get up and get ready. You know what day it is. I picked out a dress for you and left it on my bed,” she said in a soft voice.

“I don’t want to go,” I answered. I just want to stay in bed again.

“We have to. You know that. It’s already been too long since you’ve left this room.”

Uhhhg! I pulled the covers off my face. She was looking at me with her kind eyes.

“Well good morning to you too,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

She walked out of room. I stared up at the ceiling and dreaded the day ahead. It’s been two weeks since they passed, and I still couldn’t bring myself to face the outside world without them. The weight of it all kept me flat on my back. Let’s start with just taking a shower.

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I walked down the in my robe, and a damp towel in my hair. I peaked into my sister's room and saw the black dress she layed out on her bed. Later. The smell of maple syrup and coffee was comforting within the hollow halls, filling a little bit of the void left behind. I walked down the stairs and sat down at the table. She came over with a mug and he set it down. I felt her arms wrap around me and a warmth washed over me. I stared down at my feet and started to cry.

“I know,” she whispered as she rested her head on my mine. I wanted that moment to last forever.

The rest of breakfast was silent except for the clanking of forks and knives on the plates. When I was done, I got up and walked back over to the staircase. I put paused at the foot of them and put my hand on the railing. I took a deep breath but backed away. I can’t.

I could feel my body acting of its own accord as I backed walked away and turned towards the door on the left.

“Where are you going?” I heard her ask, but my feet kept dragging, one foot in front of the other. My hand reached forward and opened the door. I stood at the precipice, unsure of what I was doing. I started walking down the stairs. Each step propelling me like a force towards the cold, damp darkness; my safe place where I wanted to hide out forever.

I turned on the lights and looked around. I’d been down here hundreds of times, but like this. Their presence was still here amongst the remnants of the past. Scatted piles of memories, like a story waiting to be put together: their story… Our story. I picked up a framed picture on the desk and dusted it off. It was the four of us at the beach. My sister and I were kneeling down, showing off the seashells we had found. Our parents smiling behind us with their hands on our shoulders. I reached across with my left hand, half expecting, hoping to feel a hand there, but was only met with a sinking emptiness.

I put the picture down and walked around the room, stopping from time to time to look through old boxes: rocks from Lake Superior, paintings from middle school, trophies and medals. I felt tears running down my face. Their salty taste mixed with the bittersweet memories they brought.

I walked past the back corner of the room and stopped as something caught my eye. I looked down and saw the trunk that had always been there, but I realized I had never opened. Curious, I knelt down in front of it. I put my hand on the latch and hesitated. What if I don’t want to know what’s inside? No, I had to know.

The heavy lid creaked open and rested against the wall. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but the trunk looked old so maybe my mom’s old wedding dress or my dad’s uniforms from his time in the navy. Or maybe even my grandparents’ silverware and jewelry, but none of that met my gaze. It was just papers. I started shuffling though them and skimming the contents. It looked like work files and notes. There were some newspaper clippings from the 90s, folders of receipts and tax returns. Nothing of note or out of the ordinary, except for the container they were in. I was about to close the lid on when I noticed a tab under the lid. I slowly pulled on it, in suspense. There, neatly tucked in, was a little black leather-bound book with gold stars and scripted lettering on the cover: “Stella.”

My felt my jaw drop open as my right hand reached forward. My trembling fingers fumbled trying to grab it. I pulled it back towards me and ran my hands across the indented stars and letters. I examined the exterior. There were makings of wear and tear. There was nothing written on the back, but the spine had the vertical lines of use. I opened it.

A yellowed envelop dropped into my lap, but I was more interested in the book’s contents. It was blank. I fervently thumbed through the pages. Nothing… I held the pages up to the light. Nothing? From the outside it looked like there had been years of writing and wisdom within.

I slammed the book shut and threw it across the room in disappointment. Thud! I heard my sister run across the floor and down the stairs.

“Stella?! Are you okay?”

I saw her head poke around the corner with a look of concern.

“I’m fine!” I said, my voice shaking in anger. I stood up and started to walk towards the stairs.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a spot on the floor behind me.

The envelope I had forgotten had fallen. I turned around and picked it up. It had the same scripted lettering as the book but in black ink. As I turned it over, I saw a red, wax seal with a star in the middle. I opened the envelop and took out the piece of paper. I stared down at it and read:

Our dearest Stella,

You and your sister are the lights of our life. But we know you have suffered and struggled more than most to fulfill your dreams. We wanted to make we did everything we could to provide for you and to be there for you. But if there is ever a time we are no longer around, we put aside a sum of money for your future. There is an account in your name with $20,000. Our will and the lawyers have the details for you to take over ownership of it.

As for the book, we opened it time and again to write you notes and letters but could never find the right words to express our love for you. Instead, we decided to leave it blank for your boundless expression. Because you have a special gift. Whenever you feel sad or lonely, write to us. We will be right here with you in this book. Wherever we are, know that we will read your words and be in your heart.

With infinite love,

Mama and pop.

I read the letter three more times, clinging to every word. I could hear their voices echo around the room

“What is it?” my sister asked.

“A priceless inheritance.”