Saturday marked my last gasp of breath before the tsunami of press and paperwork descended.
The next few days blew by in a whirlwind of funeral arrangements (extravagant), media requests (incessant but unanswered save for the press statement Sloane had crafted), and legalese (complicated and headache-inducing).
My father had left meticulous directions for his funeral, so all we had to do was execute them.
His will was an entirely different matter.
The Tuesday after his passing, I gathered in the library along with my family, Eduardo, Sloane, and Santos, our estate lawyer.
The reading of the will started off as expected.
TĆa Lupe received the vacation house in Uruguay, TĆo Esteban received my fatherās rare car collection, so on and so forth.
Then it got to me, and apparently, my father had made a lastminute change to the terms of my inheritance.
Murmurs rippled through the room at the news, and I straightened when Santos started reading the conditions.
āTo my son Xavier, I bequeath all remaining fixed and liquid assets, totaling seven point nine billion dollars, provided he assumes the chief executive officer position before the day of his thirtieth birthday and serves the role for a minimum of five consecutive years thereafter. The company must turn a profit in each of those five years, and he must fulfill the chief executive officer position to the best of his abilities as determined by a preselected committee every six months, starting from his official first day as CEO. Should he not meet the above terms, all remaining fixed and liquid assets shall be distributed to charity according to the terms below.ā
The room erupted before Santos read the next paragraph. āAll assets to charity?ā TĆa Lupe screeched. āIām his sister, and I get a measly vacation home while charity gets eight billion dollars?ā
āYou mustāve read that wrong. Thereās no way Alberto would do thatā¦ā
āXavier as CEO? Does he want to run the company into the ground?ā
āThis is outrageous! Iām calling my own lawyersā¦ā
Spanish shouts and curses ricocheted off the walls like bullets as my family devolved into chaos.
Throughout it all, Eduardo, Sloane, and I were the only ones who didnāt utter a word. They sat on either side of me, Eduardoās face pensive, Sloaneās impassive. Across the room, Santos maintained a neutral expression as he waited for the indignation to die down.
The first line of my inheritance clause rang in my head.
I bequeath all remaining fixed and liquid assets, totaling seven point nine billion dollars, provided he assumes the chief executive officer positionā¦before the day of his thirtieth birthday.
My thirtieth birthday was in six months. Of course, my father knew that; trust the bastard to force my hand even in death.
The shouting matches around me retreated before an onslaught of memories.
My last conversation with him. The pocket watch. The letter.
The drum of my heartbeats chased away the silence as I stared at my motherās familiar handwriting. Sheād loved calligraphy and insisted I learn cursive, even though no one used it much anymore.
I used to sit next to her as she hand wrote thank-you cards and birthday greetings and get-well-soon wishes, tracing the loops and swirls on my own piece of paper.
Some people found her handwriting difficult to read, but I parsed it easily.
Dear Xavier,
I met you for the first time yesterday.
Iād imagined the moment many times, but no amount of imagination couldāve prepared me for holding you in my arms. For seeing you stare up at me, then falling asleep together because weāre both exhausted, and hearing you laugh as you grabbed my fingers on our way out of the hospital.
Youāre only two days old at the time of this writing, so tiny I can almost fit you into the palm of my hand. Buta parentās best gift is watching their child grow up, and I canāt wait for the journey ahead.
I canāt wait to see you off to your first day of school. Iāll probably (definitely) cry, but theyāll be happy tears because youāll be starting a new chapter of your life.
I canāt wait to teach you how to swim and ride a bike, to give you advice about girls, and to see you fall in love for the first time.
I canāt wait to watch you discover your passions, whether itās music, sports, business, or anything else you want to do. (Donāt tell your father, but Iām rooting for art.) However, Iāll be happy with anything you choose, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. The world is big enough for all of our dreams.
Thereās potential in each and every one of us, and I hope you fulfill yours to the point of happiness.
Your father says Iām getting ahead of myself because youāre so young, but by the time you read this, youāll have turned twenty-one. Old enough to attend college, drive a car, and travel on your own. My heart hurts just thinking about it, not because Iām sad, but because Iām so excited for you to experience my favorite parts of the world and to find your own. (And if you canāt decide where to go, choose a spot close to the beach. Trust me. The water heals us in ways we canāt comprehend.)
I canāt say for certain what the future will hold, but at the risk of sounding like a cheesy motivational poster, know this: life ebbs and flows, and thereās always room for change. Humans have the capacity for growth until they leave this earth, so never feel like itās too late for you to take another road if youāre unhappy with the one youāre traveling.
No matter which road you take, Iām proud of you. I hope you are too.
Be proud of the person youāve become and the person youāll grow into. Even though youāve just arrived in the world, I know youāll make it a better place.
Youāre my greatest joy, and you always will be.
Love always,
Mom
P.S. I left you a special gift. The pocket watch has been handed down through generations in my family, and itās time I passed it on to you. I hope you cherish it as much as I did.
Something dripped onto the paper, smudging the words. Tears. The first Iād shed since I arrived.
I retrieved the pocket watch from the drawer with a trembling hand and opened it. It was so old the numbers had faded, but the message engraved inside remained legible.
The greatest gift we have is time. Use it wisely.
āXavier? Xavier!ā
The present rushed back in a tidal wave of noise.
I blinked away the memories fogging my brain as TĆa Lupeās face came into focus. Not the first person I wanted to see under any circumstance.
āWell?ā she demanded. āWhat do you have to say about this will? Itās utterlyāā
āTĆa? Shut the hell up.ā
I thought I saw Sloane smirk out of the corner of my eye as TĆa Lupe gasped. Eduardo made a strange noise that fell somewhere between a laugh and a cough.
I tuned out my auntās splutters and focused on Santos.