Daddy

“There's someone here who wants to meet you.” And without another word, as he stood in the hallway in the middle of the night in his green pajamas, they handed him his son. He was swaddled in a tiny bundle, and he let out a wail as the nurse put him in Benjamin's hands, and then he pulled him gently toward his chest. He stood looking down at him in total amazement, as tears slid down his cheeks and he started to grin, and turned toward Oliver, holding tightly to the baby.

“It's a boy, Dad! It's a boy” Oliver hurried over to see him, and as he looked down at the tiny child, he felt his heart quiver within him. It was like looking into Benjamin's face only moments after he was born. It was the same child, the same face, the same red hair and surprised eyes, and so much of Sarah, and as Oliver looked at him he realized something that had previously escaped him. This wasn't just Benjamin's child, or Sandra's, it was his grandchild as well. It was a part of him, and all of those who had come before him … his father … his mother … and their parents before them. It was a part of all of them, and he could no longer deny that. There were tears in his eyes, as he gently touched the child that belonged to all of them now.

“How's Sandra?” Benjamin suddenly remembered her, feeling guilty. “Is she okay?” he asked the nurse.

“She's fine. She'll be in the recovery room for a while. And now, would you like to come to the nursery with us for a little while? You can hold the baby, while we check him.”

“Is he all right?”

“Everything's just fine. He weighs eight pounds, nine ounces, and his Apgars were perfect. That means he's an alert, healthy little boy.” She took the baby from Benjamin,' and led the way to the nursery as the new father beamed, and Oliver stayed behind. It was an amazing moment in his life. At forty-five years of age, he was suddenly a grandfather, but he was still struck by how much his grandchild looked like his own son. And then, needing to share it with someone, he walked to a pay phone, dialed the number, and charged it to his home phone.

When she answered the phone, he suddenly smiled to himself, and his voice was hoarse and gentle. “Hello, Grandma.”

“Who is this?” She thought it was a crank call and was about to hang up.

“You have a grandson, Sarah.” There were tears in his eyes again, as he remembered the children they had borne together.

“Oh my God. Is he all right?”

“He's perfect. Eight pounds, nine ounces, and he looks just like Benjamin when he was born.”

“How's Sandra?”

“Not too great, I suspect. They had to do a cesarean.

But she'll be all right. The baby is so sweet, Sarrie … wait till you see him.”

“They're keeping him, then?” She was wide awake now.

“Yes,” he said quietly, suddenly feeling something for the baby he had never expected to feel again, almost as though it were his own baby. “I think they'll keep him.” And it was impossible to disagree with Benjamin, now that he had seen his grandson.

“How's Benjamin holding up?”

“He was very nervous, but he looks like a proud papa now. Oh Sarah, you should see him.” He was proud of him, and happy for him, and sad all at the same time.

“You're such an old softie, Oliver Watson. You should be having more kids of your own one of these days.” It was an odd thing for her to say, but their lives were in separate worlds now.

“So I've been told. How are you, by the way?”

“I'm all right.”

“Your eyes okay?”

“Still a little colorful, but they'll do. Give Benjamin my love. I'll call him tomorrow.”

“Take care of yourself.” He sounded sad again. Sometimes it still hurt to call her, but he was glad he had anyway. It was her grandson too. And he had wanted to tell her.

“Congratulations.” She smiled into the phone, “Grampa.”

“Same to you. It makes us sound ancient, doesn't it?”

“I don't know. I think I kind of like it.”

He hung up then, and waited for Benjamin to emerge. He drove him back to the house in Purchase, and it was the first time in six months that he had slept in his old room. He had left in defiance, and come home a father. It was a strange world, Oliver thought to himself, as he walked to his room, thinking of the baby that had been born that night. He wished him an easy life, an easy berth, and an easier path into manhood than his father had just had. And in his own bed Benjamin had just drifted off to sleep at last, smiling about his baby.

Chapter 20