Steven dreaded the holidays with his family. He could handle the drama and the snarky comments from his older sister Claire, but the looks from Claire´s husband Roger, were always hard to take. His brother-in-law behaved as though his Harvard degree put him above the rest. He wasn’t sure this visit would end well — he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Christmas was a week away and Steven had not yet secured a plane ticket. He wondered if he could use the “I couldn’t get a flight,” excuse. Claire would surely cut his balls off if he failed to show up. She knew what buttons to push and how and when to push them. Steven wasn’t around when their mother was dying, Steven couldn’t afford his own rehab treatment, Steven couldn’t hold onto a job, and her list of his ineptitudes went on. She’d use sharp words and veiled threats to hammer home his failings.

It was not until 3:00 a.m. the following morning that he went on-line, secured the last ticket, and got a seat in the very back of the airplane. Dallas would not be welcoming to this northeasterner. Christmas would be all about cracked and too warm concrete and a whole lot of Texas fake charm. Being home in time for a New York, New Year’s eve celebration, would be the only thing keeping him breathing while away. He sent Claire a text to let her know his plans. Her one word, “okay,” reply only reinforced his disdain for her. He was certain Roger would be disappointed that he’d chosen to make the trip.

The reading of his father’s will was scheduled for the morning of December 26th. He booked his ticket home for that afternoon, thinking the shame he’d feel would accelerate his desire to leave as soon as he could. He didn’t share his plan with Claire knowing she would oppose his hasty exit. She and Roger sitting across from him gloating following the reading, would be way too much to bear.

He’d been thinking about his father a lot lately. He knew his independent and defiant nature was a disappointment. His father warned him that a career as an artist would be a difficult life; fighting poverty and harsh public criticism. But Steven had to follow his dream to paint, with or without his father’s approval. His father was a man of few words, always working and avoiding homelife. Now it was time to hear from his father from the grave; ultimately having to have his rejection spelled out in front of the two people he disliked most.

In the taxi on the way to Claire’s house he considered turning back and flying home. There was no law that said he was obligated to be at the reading. The voices in his head told him to grow up and face life head on — it would be over soon enough.

When he arrived at Claire’s house, at first he didn’t think they were home. He’d told her what time he’d arrive, but greeting him would have been out-of-character. He walked around the back of the house where Claire and Roger were having a drink on the patio. Claire got up to put her cheek in his face for a kiss, Roger stayed seated. They asked him about the trip south, but neither truly cared to listen to his response. After a few awkward words, they told him that his room was ready. He carried his bag up the stairs and closed the door. If he could, he would have stayed there until the day after Christmas.

The house was not decorated for the holidays, calling it sterile would be an understatement. It was soulless, lifeless and always frigid cold. As he lay in the bed staring at the ceiling, he contemplated his options. Calling his childhood friend Ben to provide an escape seemed to be the only solution he could stomach. Ben was thrilled to hear from him and they made plans for dinner that evening.

When he finally had the nerve to go downstairs, Claire asked him why he wasn’t ready for dinner. Steven attempted to tell her that he was unaware of dinner plans, but she screeched, scolded and told him that he was insensitive. He canceled his plans with Ben and went back upstairs to change. He wished he could have a shot of something strong to take the edge off, but Claire and Roger were way too righteous to drink.

Steven ordered a cocktail at the restaurant and they both gave him a judgmental look. They talked about the weather; he hoped Claire wouldn’t bring up their dad, but his hopes were quickly squashed.

“Don’t you even care about what he was like at the end?”

“I know what he was like Claire, you’ve told me numerous times.”

“And you think I’ve told you everything?”

“I think what you shared was sufficient.”

“Did I tell you that during his final moments he asked where you were. You disappointed him right to the very end.”

“Thank you for that Claire. You know very well that I had flown here twice before only to learn that he could live that way for months and in fact he did.”

“But why didn’t you come when it was certainly the end? Why did you leave everything to me like you always did?”

“Because Claire, you do whatever you want to do. You act as if I’m not even in the room. It’s pointless for me to even try. But does any of it matter now? Let’s just leave it Claire.”

Roger sat seething until Steven tried to put a stop to the badgering. He was waiting for the last word.

“You have no idea how pathetic you sound Steven. Your father never had to look very hard for reasons to resent and dislike you, you made it easy. You were a terrible son and you’ve been a useless brother. You’re a failure at everything you attempt.”

Steven slowly folded his napkin and motioned for the check. He threw down cash to cover the bill and started for the door.

“You’re not going to wait for us to drive home?”

“No Claire, I’ll walk back. Please leave the door open, I’ll see you the day after Christmas. I’ll be out tomorrow.”

Claire threw back her chair and stood up as Steven walked away. She didn’t try to stop him, knowing that Roger had gone too far. She didn’t mind it though, she hoped he’d spend Christmas somewhere else.

Steven tried his best to enjoy Christmas at Ben’s house. It was warm and welcoming, just the kind of Christmas he’d never had with family. He and Ben talked a bit about the reading of the will. Steven assured him that Claire would walk away with the house, the money, and God knows what else — Steven didn’t know what his father had accumulated in his mostly hidden life. For him, the will would be closure. He wasn’t angry. Relief was closer to what he knew he’d feel. The death of his mother Sheila, two years prior, was difficult. She was a woman who wore resentment like a badge of honor. She never wanted children and marriage was a ball and chain. She and Claire battled to the end; Steven did everything he could to stay invisible. Their father turned a blind eye and never said a word. His mother’s bitterness robbed his father of any happiness he hoped to enjoy. They were four people searching for anything other than what they had.

Steven woke early the day after Christmas. He grabbed his overnight bag. When he went downstairs, Claire was waiting.

“What do you think Dad will leave you Steven? Are you here because you think you deserve something? Why did you come? Why show up now?”

“Are you ready to go, Claire?”

“Answer me Steven, do you think you earned dad’s money? I’m certain Dad wished you’d died before him.”

Steven held his tongue. He knew Claire was doing her best to twist the knife so that she could watch him squirm. The last comment was a zinger, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Roger drove silently to the attorney’s office. Steven’s bag was next to him in the back seat of the car. Neither Claire nor Roger had commented on it. Steven carried into the office.

The attorney, Mr. Brenner, seated them facing his desk, Roger in the middle of his wife and brother-in-law. There was no small talk, no questions, and no smiles. Attorney Brenner explained that the will had been written by Steven Sr., after their mother’s death; updated two months before their father’s death. Their father, Mr. Steven Forrester, was of sound mind and body when he updated the will. There were two witnesses who could attest to the aforementioned. Steven was struck by the absence of emotion on the part of Mr. Brenner. He was well aware that this man and his father had attended Yale undergrad together, played golf, and remained good friends throughout their lives. Claire had contact with Mr. Brenner through the years, but you’d never know it based on their interaction. The attorney had left Steven a message urging him to attend the reading and he didn’t understand why it was so important.

Mr. Brenner asked if there were any questions and all three shook their heads from side-to-side. The first three sentences were standard legalese. Steven noticed Claire tapping her left shoe against the desk. Roger also seemed anxious as Mr. Brenner continued reading.

“I am well aware that my decision regarding my belongings and holdings will not please everyone. Therefore, I would like to state the following: I have known that our family has not been a happy one for a very long time. Mistakes were made and resentment built up over the years. I unfortunately had very little say as it concerned your upbringing, your daily life, and your education. Had I been able to, I may have chosen a different path for all of us as a family. That being said, I believe I did my best to provide for the family and keep you out of harm’s way. It is my assessment that Steven got the worst of it. Sheila never truly acknowledged her son and from where I was sitting, never showed him the love and affection a mother normally shared. Claire on the other hand, at least experienced a fraction of Sheila’s guarded mothering.

Steven’s path, although unorthodox, was authentic and brave. Without any support at home, he thrived and remained true to himself. In an effort to provide ammunition for a future legal battle, I will leave it at that. To make up for what Steven had to endure, I am leaving the house, valued at three million dollars, to Steven. To Steven I also bequeath all my art collection, valued at six million dollars (all vaulted for safe keeping), and stock holdings valued at four million dollars. I leave my life insurance policy valued at $200,000 to Claire. I appreciated the care she gave me over the last few months.”

The room was silent for several seconds.

Claire stood, turned toward Steven, pointed her finger into his stunned face and said,

“I will fight this until I am certain you do not see one cent of dad’s money. He hated you Steven, mother told me so.”

She motioned for Roger to stand and the two of them walked out and slammed the door behind them.

Mr. Brenner looked at Steven and asked if he was okay. Steven just stared straight ahead.

“Your father didn’t know how to be a father Steven, but he told me that he loved you and he was very proud of you. It is his hope that you will find joy in life and ultimately, share some of this money with those who have had to fight like you have fought since the day you were born. As a friend of your father’s, I’ve watched you grow up from the sidelines, I have no doubt you will make good use of his money.”

Steven shook Mr. Brenner´s hand, grabbed his suitcase, and walked out into a future he never could have anticipated. There were children whose lives would improve due to his father’s generosity. He could see all clearly now.

As he waited to board his flight, Steven couldn’t help but think about Claire and Roger and what it must be like in that loveless house at that very moment. He didn’t feel sorry for his sister, in fact, he felt nothing.

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Writing to you from cozy Oslo. July and I’m sleeping under a down comforter.

Majorstuen, Oslo, where I will be for all of July.