To Grieve, Learn and Let Go (Pedro Pascal/Joel Miller Inspired Story)

The Will

It's hard to eat my food at this moment. As appetizing as my food looked, I just can't seem to chew and swallow without feeling sick. I know it's my emotions that are messing with my appetite. It's such a nice-looking place and everything smelled delicious but seeing people with happy faces as they ate their meals with their loved ones was making me feel as if everyone was looking at me and judging me for having an absent father. My thoughts are hurting me badly.

I looked down at my plate and have only taken three bites of my grilled cheese sandwich and barely ate any of my fries. The most I've consumed was my iced tea and that was gone. My dad on the other hand had already eaten his fries and had half a burger left. His glass of peach raspberry tea was gone as well. How could he eat so casually knowing that he was sitting in front of his daughter whom he abandoned 17 years ago? How does he seem so relaxed? It's making me angrier the more I think about it.

I tried to eat another bite of my sandwich but as soon as I swallowed, the sick feeling came back to me again. That's when I knew that I was not going to be able to eat for a while. I set my plate aside and thought I'd wait until my dad finished eating. But that tiny action I did had caused him to stop eating.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked at me with those sad puppy eyes. "You're not gonna eat, Mia?"

I shook my head no, wiping my hands with one of those complimentary clean wipes.

"Don't have much of an appetite, I guess. You never really liked to finish your food." I saw a small smile curve on his lips. "You'd always leave just a tiny bit of food left because you wanted to save it for other kids that were starving in other parts of the world."

He titled his empty cup with a raised eyebrow and pouted his lips and raised his hand to call for the waiter. Our waiter arrived. He was attentive, to say the least. "Hi, how can I help you?"

"Could you give me and my daughter a refill on our drinks, please?"

"Sure, coming right up!" He took our empty cups and headed to the back to refill our drinks. While we were waiting, my dad took another bite of his burger. I haven't touched my food again. The waiter came back with our refilled drinks and told us to feel free to ask for any assistance and went to tend to other diners.

I went for my drink and pretty much drank half of it in a few gulps. The raspberry iced tea at least took care of my appetite.

My dad chuckled at me, making me look up at him with a questionable look. And I asked, "What?"

"Oh, nothing. It's nothing." He said as he crossed his leg and rubbed his chin.

"It's something for you to be chuckling like that."

"I'm just reminiscing on how you used to play with the ice cubes. Pretending that they were tiny little ships."

I shrugged. "I was just a kid with an imagination. Every kid imagines and plays with their food. But I'm reminding you that I'm not a kid anymore."

"Of course, you're not, Mia. Might I add that I used to do that too when I was a kid?"

"I'm sure you did, Pedro."

He exhales, triggered again at me calling him by his name. "Could you please not call me that?"

"I would if you stop telling me your memories of me as a kid that I don't remember."

"Goodness, never mind. But you seem more thirsty than hungry, Mia. Your asthma medications make you thirsty."

"From time to time but I know what to do," I said flatly, turning my attention to my lukewarm sandwich and fries.

"I'm sure you do but that's a serious problem."

"I already have it taken care of. I went to see the doctor recently and got checked. Nothing too serious just missed a few days."

"And that's why it's serious, Mia!" He said, raising his tone a bit. He sounded very concerned. "One missed day and your asthma can flare up."

"Look, I already know that! I missed several days for reasons and please don't question me. All of the protocols, pamphlets, and extra meds were given to me. I don't need a lecture, especially from you." I hoped that I made my point clear to him. But I also hope my raised voice didn't cause any attention. I looked around and everyone seemed to be in their little world, so I felt a little relieved.

He went silent for a bit, sighing and still concerned. He finally spoke. "It's only natural for me to say these things and feel the way I feel about your health. Which brings me to the subject of why I'm here."

I didn't realize how tense my body was until he said that. My shoulders went limp. "Well...then...spill it out."

He sighed and unfolded his legs, brought both his hands to the table, and pressed them together. "The reason why I'm here is because...your grandparents had a will."

"A will?" My heart skipped a beat. My grandparents have always told me that whatever belonged to them belonged to me when they passed away. They never mentioned having a will.

"Yes, a will. Your grandparents, before their passing, had been reaching out to me for two years. Before those two years, I was spending time making up for some of the things that had got me in legal trouble. I won't specify because you won't be able to handle it. In those two years, they have been giving me updates on your well-being... pretty much everything that I needed to know. Including your plans for transferring to UCLA."

"W-where is it?" I could hardly speak because of the shock.

"I have the will right here with me." He slid into his pocket and slipped out a half-folded piece of paper. "Want to read it now?"

I'm both shocked and anxious so I nodded and took the paper from his hands. I unfolded it and saw my grandparents' names and the date of the will. It was entirely handwritten by my grandfather, two years ago.

I began to read the will. In the will, my grandparents' possessions were to be given to me, including their photos, medical records, diplomas, degrees, and much more. Sadly, most of those possessions I had to throw out because of the house being sold. It also mentioned their house no longer being owned by them by the time I graduated college for reasons unstated. However, my grandparents had a stash of 9,000 dollars in their safe but I had already used the money to pay for the funeral and my medicine. Any backups were used for so many expenses and I had almost nothing. There was no mention of my mother, or any other relatives until I stumbled upon my father's name. It said that the house that belonged to their parents, in Thousand Oaks, was still there and that the ownership of the house belonged to my dad as of June 3, 2017. The last thing it said on the will was, 'To ensure Mariana Pascal-Miller is well taken care of and to wish a better bond for both her and her father Pedro Pascal-Miller.'

I was hurt and scared all at once. They knew they didn't have much time left on earth and hid their demise with smiles, celebrations, and gifts. My grandparents had been in contact with my father all this entire time and didn't even tell me. And the house belonging to my dad instead of giving ownership to me? It didn't make any sense. They hid so many secrets from me and now that they're gone, I don't get to have my say. This is not right.