“Because of my mother.” Leon was surprised: “Her? But she’s…”
“Yeah, she passed away. My mother was an artist. When I was ten, she finally couldn’t bear family life anymore and left us. She went to New York with her dreams. She was a very talented artist and quickly made a name for herself there, eventually becoming renowned in the industry. After achieving fame and success, she embraced a new family. To my father, she was a completely irresponsible, bad wife. To me, she was neither a good nor a bad mother. Although she wasn’t around, before she left, she gave me a bank card and deposited money into it every month. I never lacked for money. And before she died, she decided to leave me all her property. I really have no standing to blame her. But I rarely think of her, even though her urn is on my nightstand. The reason I’m thinking of her today must be your essay, Leon.”
Leon was still waiting for an explanation. I smiled and told him the truth: “Before my mother died, she made a will, naming me as the heir. The condition was that I had to be married first, and the marriage had to last at least three years.”
Leon caught on quickly: “So you’ll divorce my dad after three years?”
I nodded approvingly: “Maybe. You’re very smart.”
Leon got angry: “So you married my dad just because he’s honest and easy to fool?”
“Of course not. Your dad is wonderful—handsome, kind, and treats me well. I wanted to try a marriage with him. If I’m happy during these three years, maybe I won’t divorce him. My mother said I’m too cold, and she always blamed herself, thinking her departure made me so detached from family and relationships. She told me not to fear marriage, but to bravely and optimistically connect with people. That will, with its condition, felt more like a wish than a threat. After promising her at her bedside, I started dating. I met a few, but none felt right. It was uncomfortable. Only Allen made me feel at ease.”
Leon asked thoughtfully, “Does my dad know about this?”
I smiled: “He does. On the first day we met, I was very pleased with him and told him the truth before we parted. Allen was surprised; he didn’t answer immediately, saying he needed to think. That evening, he said he wanted to give it a try. And so we got our license.”
Leon finished his questions and lowered his head, lost in thought. My turn. I asked him, “Didn’t your dad give you living expenses? You’ve been going hungry this whole month?”
Leon’s head snapped up, his eyes a mix of shame, grievance, and anger, with anger winning: “None of your business!”
I said calmly, “If you find it hard to bring up, I can mention it to him. You’re in puberty, still growing, you can’t…”
Leon suddenly exploded, sweeping his arm and sending a plate crashing to the floor! “I said! None of your business! You’re not my mom!”
The loud noise drew everyone’s attention. A server came over to ask what happened. I calmly asked them to clean up the mess, adding the cleaning fee and the cost of the plate to the bill. Leon sat there fuming, not looking at me or speaking.
After the server left, he spoke: “I’m done eating. Let’s go. If you’re not going, I’ll go back by myself.”
I took a sip of water: “Wait a bit longer. Your dad will be here soon.”
Leon looked at me incredulously: “You’re so sneaky!”
I didn’t comment and continued looking at my laptop. After waiting a few more minutes, the server led Allen in. Allen didn’t notice anything amiss; he finished off the remaining food on the table, then paid the bill. Leon looked at the bill, his eyes reddening: “Dad, I’m sorry for wasting food.”
Allen ruffled his hair: “As long as you ordered what you like, it’s not wasted.”
It only takes one lesson. He probably wouldn’t order like that again. I’m not particularly warm-hearted; since Leon didn’t want me to mention the living expenses to Allen, I wasn’t going to meddle. So Allen remained unaware of Leon’s situation for another half month while Leon toughed it out.
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