The warm wind passed over the face of Owen Katz. He was sitting outside in his wheelchair, admiring the white, fluffy clouds. Each one slowly changed its shape as they slowly passed by in the sky.
The visit from Lily had changed him. He became a little nicer to the staff, although they still got on his nerves. He looked forward to her weekly calls. She'd tell him about her program, and he would send words of support and encouragement. It was the medicine he needed.
She'd made him promise he would go sit outside and get some fresh air. He slowly wheeled himself through the threshold of his room doorway and down the hall to the small terrace. The staff gave him funny looks the first time he did this. He just nodded and kept wheeling himself forward to the door.
As he slowly passed the nurse's station, the doctor noticed him wheeling by. She put down her chart and walked over to him.
"Now, just where do you think you're going?" she asked.
"I'm going outside to get some fresh air. It's allowed, ain't it?" he grumbled.
"It's encouraged," she said.
She walked behind the wheelchair, placed her hands on the chair handles, and slowly began to push. Once outside, she wheeled him next to a table with an umbrella.
"How's this?" she asked.
"This'll do just fine," Owen replied.
She touched him on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're getting around, Owen." She smiled and walked inside.
After a while, his routine of wheeling himself out to the terrace became an everyday occurrence. He smiled at the nursing staff as he wheeled by. He became less grumpy and more willing to speak to the other residents.
So, on the day he wheeled himself outside to sit in the sun, he was surprised when he heard a woman's voice call his name. He turned around to find a stylish, white, older woman looking down at him. He looked up at her; she looked familiar, but he couldn't quite remember where he'd seen her.
"Owen Katz?" she said.
"Yes, I'm Owen. Who are you?"
"Can I join you?" she asked.
"It's a free country," he said.
He watched as she pulled over a chair from a nearby table. She placed it directly next to him and sat down. She laid a small clutch bag in her lap, shifted in her chair, and removed her sunglasses
"Do you know me?" she asked.
"Now, what kind of stupid-ass question is that, lady? No, I don't know you," he said.
She smiled and chuckled. "My name is Sylvia Blass," she said.
Owen squinted his and put his hand underneath this chin. "Well, well, Sylvia Blass. I can see the resemblance with your mother. What do you want? Whatever it is, I ain't interested. Lily told me about you looking for her. She told me everything," he said.
"You've seen Lily?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"Yeah, she came to see me. She told me about you and your private investigator. Now, what do you want?" he grumbled.
She cleared her throat. "Well, you're right, I did hire a private investigator to find her. The information that was provided to me led me to you. I read about your studio burning all those years ago. I also know my mother was involved somehow. I guess I just wanted to meet you and tell you how sorry I am. I really don't know why I'm here."
He stared at her. "Okay, so you're sorry. What do you want? You want to hurt Lily some more? Is that why you're looking for her? She told me she didn't want to meet you, so why don't you just leave her alone?" he said.
"I'm not here for Lily. I'm here to see you," she said.
Owen chuckled. "What the hell do you want with me? Your mother burned down my recording studio and ended my career in the music business. There's nothing you have that I want," he said.
She sighed. "I didn't know what my mother had done until after she died. I was a young girl when she found out my dad had other children, Lily and her brother Clyde. This was kept from me. I didn't know. We didn't have the best relationship, Mr. Katz. When she died, I was given access to her safe in the big house. That's when I found out about Lily and Clyde, my father's will, and you."
"But you did nothing," he said.
"Yes, I did nothing," she said.
She shifted in her chair. "Mr. Katz, I'm dying."
He didn't react to her words; he just continued. "Did you know she even went as far as to stop the insurance from paying for the damage? I don't know why she did it, but she did. Amanda Worthington-Blass was a cold, calculating bitch who punished Lily and her family for your father. Lily and Clyde were innocent, but she blamed them anyway."
She nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I know, Mr. Katz."
He thought for a moment. "Hey, didn't you plaster her death all over the front pages? Yeah, yeah, you sold her out for money and headlines," he said.
She took a deep breath. "Mr. Katz, I want to pay for the damage to your studio. I...I know it doesn't make up for what happened, but I do want to do something."
"After all these years, years of knowing, now you want to give me money?" He chuckled. "Look around, lady. I'm old and tired. I've had to struggle all my life. My wife left me a long time ago because she was embarrassed, my daughter put me in a home the minute she could, and my friends and business associates walked away from me a long time ago. What do you think your fucking money is going to do for me now? See, that's the problem with people like you, they think money can make up for past bullshit. Well, I'm here to tell you, your money won't change what happened!" Owen shouted.
"Mr. Katz, please. I just want to –"
"Please what? Take your fucking money so you can feel better? Oh, now you're dying and want to make good? Get the fuck out of here. You're ridiculous. Lily doesn't want anything to do with you, and neither do I. She didn't even take the money your father left. Did you know that? She didn't want it. All Lily wanted to do was sing. That's all. Sing. And your fucking mother used all her money and power to make sure that dream never came true. She killed it, just like that! Lily could take it, the death of her brother, then her mother. We both know who was responsible, but we couldn't prove it. Lily checked out. She couldn't do it. She lived on the streets for years! Now get the fuck out of here!" he shouted.
She stood up. "Mr. Katz, Owen," she said.
He didn't look at her; just turned his head away. She walked in front of him so he would have to look at her.
"I know money can't make up for what happened. I know. But it can help now. I'm leaving you the information for the account I set up for you. Do nothing, but the money is there, in your name, free and clear. Yes, my mother was a bitch, mean and unkind. I've been no better. And yes, maybe it took my impending death to make me see, but at least I do see now. I'm trying to make amends the best way I know how."
She pulled an envelope out of her clutch purse and set it on the table next to him. "Here's the information. Do with it what you like. I am sorry, Mr. Katz."
Sylvia turned and walked back inside the building. He watched her walk away, then looked at the envelope on the table. He picked it up and opened it, and his eyes widened as he read the information. He put the paperback in the envelope and wheeled himself inside.