An Inheritance- part 2

every time i read Stephen King's prose, I'm struck by the numerous phrases of power that he churns out. Phrases that make you step back a second and think, pause to reflect. I try to blatantly imitate and incorporate that into my writing. Well, I try :P...anyways, back to the story.

The letter went thus:

'Dear Son. I know you do not know me well, and your last memory of me is one that I'm shameful of. But that life was a stifling existence. I was not resilient enough to continue even for your sake. In many ways, your mother was much stronger than I can ever be. But I have remembered you everyday in my prayers, never having the courage to reach out to you.

Also, there is something you should know...Oh god, it is so liberating to tell everything, knowing you won't be around to face the consequences. But do not judge me too harshly son. I was there at your graduation, hotel inaugurations, even your mother's cremation, only always watching from afar. I was always, but not quite, there with you.

Anyways, back to what I had to tell you. There is another family I had, from my second marriage. I have a daughter. She is eight years old. They have no one else besides me. With you being a successful man now-oh yes I've heard of your story-I only die with the worry of what will happen to them. I hope you will find it in your heart to at least meet them once. I wish I could ask you to take care of them, but I have no right to tell you anything. I've written them a letter too, telling them about you. You will find them when you come here to read this, for they will too.

I hope you will forgive me, at least in death.

Your father.'

Vineet put down the letter. He had nothing to say. He was numb with the shock of the revelation. At first he felt revulsion towards his father. Contempt for the man's cowardice. But then he realized, this was just a weak man, unable to cope with the world. He decided he would not come to any conclusions, until he met the second wife and the daughter.

'Vineet?' a weak voice called out his name. He turned around to see a woman in her late fifties, entering through the door he had. So there she was. She looked around ten years younger than his mother would have been, but worry and sorrow had aged her a lot in the last 24 hours.

'Yes. How are you?' not knowing what to say, he reverted to polite inquisition.

'I'm good thank you. I read his letter just now. I don't know what to say, how to say it. I'm as much at sea as you..' just then, her daughter came into the room. She was around 17 perhaps, a teenager. Very beautiful, she had her father's eyes, just like he did. Her name was Priyanka, she mumbled.

A long moment passed between the three of them, where he looked at the two of them, and despite them being strangers, felt a kind of warm affection towards them. Maybe it was the fact that he had been living alone for so long, something that he had willingly chosen for himself.

He looked at them, and said slowly, 'It's going to be all right. Let's go.' He ushered them out of the room, and they walked down the corridor.

That's when he realized that you didn't end up becoming your what your parents were. You always had a choice.

I'm going to be the father figure to Priyanka that I never had, he thought.

Living a life alone didn't seem all that alluring any more.