Chapter 6 - For Cole Someday.Maggie waited until Ben was asleep.
Then she placed the letter on Cole's desk.
Cole stared at the handwriting.
His face changed immediately.
“Where did you get this?”
“It fell out of Ben's backpack.”
Cole picked it up but did not open it.
Maggie sat opposite him.
“You've seen it before?”
“No.”
“You recognize the handwriting.”
“Of course.”
His thumb moved across Natalie's name.
Maggie waited.
Cole finally opened the envelope.
Inside were three pages.
Natalie's handwriting became weaker toward the bottom.
Cole read silently.
Maggie looked toward the window.
She did not want to watch his face.
After several minutes, Cole spoke.
“She wrote this three weeks before she died.”
Maggie remained silent.
Cole continued reading.
Then he laughed once.
The sound was broken.
“What?”
Maggie asked.
Cole handed her the first page.
Maggie hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
“Read it.”
The letter began simply.
Cole,
If you're reading this, then I probably ran out of time to say some things without you interrupting me.
Maggie smiled faintly.
“That sounds like Natalie.”
Cole nodded.
The letter continued.
You love us like a man building a shelter in a storm.
You work harder when you're afraid.
You solve things when you're hurting.
You leave the room when emotions get too big because work gives you something you can control.
Cole looked away.
Maggie kept reading.
I know you think the company is for Ben.
I know you think money means security.
But please remember that children do not measure security in dollars.
They measure it in footsteps in the hallway.
Breakfast at the table.
A light under a bedroom door.
A voice answering when they call.
Maggie stopped.
Cole whispered.
“Keep going.”
She did.
If I am not there, Ben will already know what it feels like to lose someone.
Do not make him practice losing you too.
Maggie's throat tightened.
The next sentence was underlined.
Do not let work become the only place where you know how to be needed.
Maggie lowered the page.
Cole stared at his desk.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“I thought she understood.”
“She did understand.”
Maggie returned the letter.
“Understanding isn't the same as agreeing.”
Cole leaned back.
“Why didn't she give this to me?”
“Maybe she wasn't ready.”
“Maybe I wasn't.”
They sat in silence.
Then Cole reached for the Northstar folder.
Maggie watched him.
“What is that?”
He slid the acquisition offer across the desk.
She read the first page.
Then the second.
Then the relocation clause.
Her expression hardened.
“You were considering this?”
“I still am.”
Maggie looked shocked.
“After tonight?”
“There are fifty-three employees.”
“And Ben.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Cole stood.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like this is simple.”
Maggie stood too.
“I don't think it's simple.”
“You think I can just walk away.”
“No.”
She pointed at the letter.
“I think Natalie was telling you that you keep using responsibility as a reason not to make choices.”
Cole's eyes flashed.
“Fifty-three families depend on me.”
“And one little boy thinks tomorrow is something to fear.”
Cole turned away.
His phone rang.
Evan.
Cole answered.
“What?”
Evan's voice was strained.
“We have a problem.”
“What now?”
“The bank moved up the credit review.”
Cole went still.
“Why?”
“Chicago.”
“That makes no sense.”
“The contract loss triggered it.”
Cole rubbed his forehead.
“When?”
“Friday.”
“That gives us three days.”
“I know.”
“What happens if they reduce the line?”
“We can't make payroll next month.”
Cole looked at the acquisition offer.
Northstar's thirty-eight million suddenly stopped being an opportunity.
It became a rescue.
Evan continued.
“We need to take the deal.”
Cole looked at Natalie's letter.
“There's a relocation clause.”
“So relocate.”
“My son—”
“Can relocate too.”
Cole closed his eyes.
“You don't understand.”
“No.”
Evan's voice softened.
“But I understand fifty-three employees who have mortgages.”
Cole ended the call.
Maggie had heard enough.
“So that's it?”
“No.”
“But you're leaning toward yes.”
Cole did not answer.
Maggie looked toward the ceiling.
Ben's bedroom was directly above them.
“What will you tell him?”
Cole stared at the offer.
“I don't know.”
Maggie folded Natalie's letter carefully.
“You should figure that out before he hears it from somebody else.”
Cole looked at her.
“Who would tell him?”
Maggie gave him a tired expression.
“Life has a way of letting children hear the one conversation you wish they hadn't.”
Neither of them knew that Ben was standing in the hallway.
He had awakened for water.
He had heard only three words.
Relocate.
Chicago.
May you like
My son.
By morning, his backpack was missing again.
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