Chapter 9 - DEREK’S LETTER
Derek wrote Lucas three years after the original barbecue.
Three years.
Not three days.
Not after one therapy appointment.
Not because Dad pressured him.
By then, Derek worked for a regional office-supply company.
Sales representative.
No management.
Melissa and he were divorced.
His relationship with Ethan and Cole was rebuilding slowly.
Frank saw him occasionally.
I did not.
The letter came through Melissa.
She said:
“Read it first.”
I did.
Lucas,
I have tried to write this many times, and every version sounded like I was explaining myself instead of apologizing.
Good.
I burned your stuffed animals because I believed making you feel ashamed of needing comfort would make you stronger.
My throat tightened.
That belief was cruel.
There.
I blamed kids at the barbecue. That was a lie. I did it.
Important.
I laughed when you cried. That was worse.
I had to stop.
Then:
I learned those ideas from people I loved, but I chose to keep them. That part is mine.
No blaming Dad.
No blaming stress.
No blaming work.
You do not owe me forgiveness or a relationship.
Frank’s lesson had traveled.
I am sorry I destroyed Mr. Bamboo, the elephant, the lion, and the turtle. I know buying replacements would not restore what I destroyed.
Then:
If you ever want to see me, your dad knows how to reach me. If not, I will respect that.
Uncle Derek
Lucas was nine.
Old enough to understand.
Young enough that I still wanted to shield him.
But shielding does not mean deciding for him when he can safely choose.
I read it aloud.
He listened.
Then:
“Is he still mean?”
I smiled sadly.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“No.”
I thought.
“I think he is trying to behave differently.”
“Is that the same?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Lucas took the letter.
“Can I think?”
“As long as you want.”
Six months later, he asked to meet Derek.
Public park.
Me nearby.
Derek arrived early.
No gifts.
Smart.
He sat across from Lucas at a picnic table.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Derek said:
“I’m sorry.”
Lucas looked at him.
“I read the letter.”
“Okay.”
“Why did you burn Mr. Bamboo?”
Derek swallowed.
“Because I thought being attached to him made you weak.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Why did you think that?”
Derek looked toward Frank’s absence.
Then back.
“Because when I was a kid, I got made fun of whenever I needed something.”
Lucas frowned.
“So you did it to me?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No.”
Derek smiled sadly.
“It doesn’t.”
Lucas thought.
Then said:
“I forgive you a little.”
I nearly laughed.
Derek did too.
“A little is more than I expected.”
Lucas continued:
“But you can’t come to my birthday yet.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe next year.”
“Okay.”
No demand.
No argument.
That was the first moment I believed Derek might actually be changing.
Not because he apologized.
May you like
Because he accepted a boundary without punishing the person who set it.
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