Chapter 2: The Letter That Was Never Meant for Me
"Everybody sit down.""
My voice was quiet.
That seemed to frighten them more than shouting would have.
My mother remained standing.
Brielle backed toward the sofa.
My cousins suddenly became fascinated with their phones.
I placed the envelope on the coffee table.
"Nia, come here.""
My wife approached slowly.
I pulled out a chair for her.
"Sit, sweetheart.""
"I'm okay, Marcus.""
"Please.""
She sat down, resting both hands over her stomach.
I stood behind her chair.
Then I faced my mother.
"Explain the envelope.""
Diane shook her head.
"You're misunderstanding something.""
"Then help me understand.""
"It's a family matter.""
"Nia is my family.""
My mother sighed.
"You're making this unnecessarily difficult.""
I picked up the envelope.
"Her name is written on it. It was hidden under your feet. You told Brielle I wasn't supposed to find out until after the baby was born. What exactly am I misunderstanding?""
Brielle suddenly spoke.
"Mom was just trying to protect everyone.""
"From what?""
She looked at Diane.
My mother shook her head slightly.
"Don't say anything, Brielle.""
I laughed without humor.
"Interesting. You can order my pregnant wife around all afternoon, but nobody is allowed to explain what you've been doing?""
Nia reached for my hand.
"Marcus, maybe we should talk privately.""
I squeezed her fingers.
"We will. But I'm not letting them turn this into something you have to apologize for.""
I picked up the envelope again.
"Who wrote this?""
Diane finally answered.
"I did.""
"Why?""
"Because I needed to make arrangements.""
"What arrangements?""
She looked at Nia.
"Regarding the baby.""
Nia's fingers tightened around mine.
I felt my entire body stiffen.
"What arrangements regarding my child?""
My mother took a breath.
"Marcus, you know how expensive raising a child is.""
I stared at her.
"Yes. I'm the child's father.""
"Your business isn't doing as well as you think.""
I almost laughed.
My company had just completed its most profitable quarter. I had spent years building it from a small consulting operation into a successful commercial property firm.
"Where did you get that idea?""
"People talk.""
"Who?""
She ignored the question.
"Your sister needs help. Your cousins need help. Everyone is struggling. Then there's this baby coming, and suddenly all your attention and money will go toward Nia.""
I looked at Brielle.
"Is that what this is about?""
She crossed her arms.
"Nobody said that.""
"You didn't have to.""
My mother continued.
"We thought it would be sensible to make certain arrangements before the baby arrives.""
I stared at her.
"Arrangements that involve my wife?""
Diane hesitated.
"There's a document in that envelope.""
I turned toward Nia.
She looked as confused as I felt.
"What document?""
My mother reached out.
"Give it to me. I'll explain everything.""
"No.""
I carefully broke the red seal.
Inside were several sheets of paper.
The first was a printed document titled:
*TEMPORARY GUARDIANSHIP AND FAMILY CARE AGREEMENT.*
I read the title twice.
Then I read the first paragraph.
My blood ran cold.
The document named my mother, Diane Williams, as the proposed temporary guardian of my unborn child in the event that Nia became medically incapacitated during childbirth.
There were provisions concerning medical decisions, financial management, and the child's residence.
The proposed residence was my mother's home.
I looked up.
"What is this?""
Diane folded her arms.
"It's a precaution.""
"A precaution?""
"Childbirth is unpredictable.""
Nia's voice trembled.
"Why would you need guardianship of my baby?""
My mother turned toward her.
"Don't be emotional. We're trying to protect the child.""
"From me?""
"Nobody said that.""
"Then why does this document make Diane responsible for where my baby lives?""
My mother sighed.
"Because someone needs to be prepared.""
I looked at the document again.
There was a signature line.
Nia Williams.
And beneath it, a space for a witness.
Brielle's name had already been typed.
I felt sick.
"Did you expect Nia to sign this?""
Diane nodded.
"We were going to discuss it.""
"After hiding it?""
"I didn't want you interfering before she had a chance to understand.""
I stared at her.
"Interfering?""
"You get angry whenever someone suggests something about your wife.""
"Because you keep suggesting things that hurt her.""
Brielle suddenly stood.
"You're acting like Mom is some criminal. She just wants the baby to be safe.""
I held up the document.
"Then why does it say my mother controls the child's residence and finances?""
Brielle looked away.
"That's just standard wording.""
"Did you read it?""
She didn't answer.
Nia finally spoke.
"Did you expect me to sign this?""
Diane looked at her.
"I expected you to do what was best for your child.""
Nia's eyes filled.
"I'm the child's mother.""
"Of course you are.""
"Then why are you making plans as if I won't be there?""
My mother shook her head.
"You're taking this personally.""
Nia let out a small, broken laugh.
"How else am I supposed to take it?""
I turned another page.
There was a section about financial support.
It stated that a designated family account would be established to cover expenses associated with the child's care.
The account holder was Diane Williams.
The proposed funding source was listed as a monthly contribution from Marcus Williams.
I read it again.
Then I looked at my mother.
"You created an account in my name?""
"It's just a proposal.""
"Using my money?""
"You can afford it.""
"That's not an answer.""
She raised her voice.
"Marcus, you're my son! Everything I do is for this family!""
I placed the papers on the table.
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
She said nothing.
I turned toward Brielle.
"How long have you known about this?""
Brielle's expression changed.
"Not long.""
"How long?""
She looked at her mother.
Diane answered for her.
"Three weeks.""
Three weeks.
My mother had been planning legal arrangements concerning my unborn child for three weeks.
And during that time, she had come into my house, eaten my food, and treated my wife like an unpaid servant.
I pulled out my phone.
"I'm calling our attorney.""
Diane's eyes widened.
"Don't be ridiculous.""
"I'm not signing anything.""
"You don't have to sign it. Nia does.""
I looked at her.
"She isn't signing anything either.""
My mother stepped forward.
"You cannot keep the baby away from this family.""
"Nobody said anything about keeping the baby away.""
"Then why are you behaving like we're enemies?""
I looked at the document.
"Because you tried to make yourself my child's guardian without asking either parent.""
Nia suddenly touched my arm.
"Marcus.""
I turned.
She was staring at the second page.
"What is it?""
She pointed to a paragraph near the bottom.
"Read that.""
I leaned closer.
It contained a statement about the proposed guardian assuming responsibility if the birth mother was deemed unable to provide adequate care.
I felt my chest tighten.
"What does that mean?""
Nia shook her head.
"I don't know.""
My mother quickly reached for the papers.
"That's legal language. It doesn't mean what you're thinking.""
I moved them away.
"Then explain it.""
She hesitated.
And that hesitation told me more than her words had.
I looked at my wife.
"Nia, did anyone speak to you about signing something?""
She nodded slowly.
"Your mother mentioned paperwork last week.""
"What did she say?""
"She said it was a hospital registration form. She told me it would make everything easier when the baby arrived.""
I stared at Diane.
"You told my wife this was a hospital form?""
"It was related to the baby.""
"That isn't what I asked.""
Diane's face hardened.
"I was trying to avoid unnecessary stress.""
Nia wiped her cheeks.
"You told me I had to sign it before the delivery.""
My hands curled into fists.
"Did you give her a copy?""
"No," Nia whispered.
"Did you sign anything?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
I exhaled slowly.
Then I noticed something at the bottom of the page.
A date.
The agreement had been prepared twenty-one days earlier.
And beside the date was the name of a law office.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the firm that handled my mother's estate planning.
But there was something even stranger.
The document had already been reviewed and stamped.
Someone had paid for legal consultation.
Someone had been moving this plan forward.
I looked at my mother.
"Who helped you prepare this?""
She pressed her lips together.
"Nobody you need to worry about.""
I picked up the last sheet.
A payment receipt was attached.
The amount was $3,500.
The payer's name was clearly printed.
Not Diane Williams.
Not Brielle Williams.
It was someone I never expected to see on that document.
My father's name.
*ROBERT WILLIAMS.*
My father had been dead for four years.
I looked up slowly.
"Mom...""
Diane's expression collapsed.
May you like
And suddenly, the envelope wasn't just about my mother wanting control over my child.
Someone had used my dead father's identity to pay for it.
