Daddy

They sat down to dinner in the dining room, and talked about her work, and his, and he began to feel more at ease again, and then eventually she asked about his children, and he tried to describe them to her.

“They were all pretty hard hit when their mother left, and I was too. But I think they're coming out of it now.” All except Benjamin and the disaster he had created for himself with Sandra.

“And what about you? How do you feel now?” She seemed a little mellower after some good French white wine, and he had relaxed too. It was easier to talk to her now, as they mused about life over their simple dinner.

“I don't know. I don't think about it much anymore. I just keep busy with my work and the kids. I haven't thought about how I feel in a while. Maybe that's a good sign.”

“Do you still miss her?”

“Sure. But after twenty-two years, I'd be crazy not to. We were married for eighteen years, and dated for four years before that. That's a long time in anyone's life. In my case, it's half a lifetime.”

“You're forty-four?” She smiled, and he nodded. “I figured you for about thirty-nine.”

“I figured you for twenty-five.”

“I'm thirty.” They both laughed.

“And how does that feel? As terrifying as they say? Sarah hated turning thirty, she felt as though her whole life was behind her. But that was nothing compared to thirty-nine … and forty … and forty-one…. I think that's what got to her finally. She was panicked that she would never accomplish anything before she got really old, so she ran. The dumb thing was that she had accomplished a lot, or at least I thought so anyway, but she didn't.”

“I'm not hung up about those things, but I guess that's because I'm not married and bogged down by kids. I've done exactly what I've wanted to do all my life. I guess you could say I was spoiled rotten.” She said it with a look of glee, and he laughed, suspecting she was right, as he glanced around the expensively appointed apartment.

“What's important to you? I mean, what do you really care about?”

Myself, she almost said out loud, and then decided to be a little less honest. “My work, I guess. My freedom. Having my own life to do exactly as I please with. I don't share well, and I don't do well with having to live up to other people's expectations. We all play by pur own rules, and I like mine. I don't see why one has to do anything, get married, have kids, conform to certain rules. I do it my way, and I like that.”

“You are spoiled,” he said matter-of-factly, but for the moment, he wasn't sure that he minded.

“My mother always told me not to play by anyone else's rules, and I never have. I always seem to be able to look beyond that. Sometimes it's a strength, and sometimes it's a terrible weakness. And sometimes it's a handicap because I don't understand why people complicate life so much. You have to do what you want to do in life, that's the only thing that matters.”

“And if you hurt people in the process?” She was treading on sensitive ground, but she was also smart enough to know it.

“Sometimes that's the price you pay. You have to live with that, but you have to live with yourself, too, and sometimes that's more important.”

“I think that's how Sarah felt. But I don't agree with that. Sometimes you owe other people more than you owe yourself, and you just have to tough it out and do what's right for them, even if it costs you.” It was the basic difference between him and his wife, and possibly the difference between him and Megan.

“The only person I owe anything to is me, and that's how I like it for now. That's why I don't have kids, and I'm not compelled to be married, although I'm thirty. I think that's what we're really talking about. In a sense, I do agree with you. If you have kids, you owe a lot to them, and not just to yourself. And if you don't want to live up to them, you shouldn't have them. I don't want all that responsibility, which is why I don't have them. But your wife did. I suppose the basic mistake she made was marrying you and having children in the first place.” She was more astute than she knew, and she had hit Sarah's philosophies bluntly on the head, much to Oliver's amazement.

“That was my fault, I guess. I talked her into all of it. And then … twenty years later, she reverted to what she had been when we met … and bolted….”

“You can't blame yourself for that. It was her responsibility too. You didn't force her to marry you at gunpoint. You were doing what you believed in, for you. You can't be responsible in life for other people's behavior.” She was a totally independent woman, attached to no one and nothing, but at least she was honest about it.

“What does your family think about the way you live?” He was curious about that, too, and for a moment, she looked pensive.