Daddy

The house was exactly what the children had drearned it would be. It was perfect for them, and Oliver was thrilled. In a matter of weeks, they had settled in, and all three of them were thriving. Even Agnes was in ecstasy over their new home, and after foraging around the local shops, she found everything she wanted.

Mel loved her school, and Sam invited two new friends to their pool to swim over Thanksgiving weekend. Only the holiday seemed a little strange for them, without Benjamin, or their grandfather, and they were a long way from Sarah too. They were going to spend the Christmas holidays with her. And it seemed amazing to them they had only been there a month, when they packed their things to leave to join her in Boston for their Christmas vacation.

Oliver drove them to the airport, and much as he knew he would miss them over the holidays, he was grateful to have a few weeks to work late at the office. He needed the time to dig into all the projects that had been waiting for him when he arrived. And the one person he really missed was Daphne. He missed her good eye, her bright mind, her clear judgment, and creative solutions to his office problems. More than once, he called her for advice, and express-mailed papers to her to see what she thought of his ideas for new campaigns, and presentations to new clients, He wished they had sent her to Los Angeles too, but he also knew she would never have gone. Her relationship with the man in New York was too important to her. She would rather have given up her job than the married man she had given up her life for thirteen years before.

The next few weeks flew by, and it was Christrhas almost before they knew it. The children decorated the Christmas tree before they left, and they exchanged gifts with their father, before flying off to spend Christmas with Sarah. And suddenly as he returned to the empty house the day they left, he realized that it was going to be his first Christmas alone, the first one without them, and without Sarah. It would be easier just forgetting about it, and plunging into work. He had more than enough to occupy him in the two weeks they'd be gone. And by the next afternoon, he was startled when one of his staff knocked hesitantly on the door of his office.

“Mr. Watson, Harry Branston thought you might like to see this.” The young woman put an invitation on his desk, and he glanced at it. But he was too busy to read it until several hours later. It was an invitation to a Christmas party one of the networks gave every year, for their stars, their staff, their friends, and major advertisers, and one of the biggest clients the agency had was that particular network. It seemed the politic thing to do to attend, but he didn't see how he could spare the time, and he wasn't really in the mood. He put it aside, and decided to see how his day went. It was four days hence, and the last thing on his mind that Friday afternoon, when he found the invitation in a stack of work on his desk, was to go to a party. He knew he wouldn't know anyone there, and he couldn't imagine that anyone would notice his absence. He put it aside again, and suddenly it was as though he could hear Daphne's voice urging him to go. It was exactly the kind of thing she would have told him to do, for the sake of the agency, and to establish himself as the new head of the L.A. office. “All right … all right …” he muttered, “I'll go.” And then he smiled to himself, thinking of her again and how much he missed their spaghetti dinners. That had been one of the hardest things about coming to L.A. He had no friends here. And surely no one like Daphne.

He called for the office limousine, which he seldom used, but on occasions like this it was helpful. The driver would know where it was, and he wouldn't have to worry about parking.

The party was being held on one of the huge studio sets, and as the limousine glided onto the lot, a guard checked a list for his name, and then waved them on. It was all still a little bit like a dream to him, or playing a part in an unfamiliar movie.

Two young women showed him the way, and the next thing he knew, he was in the midst of hundreds of people, festively dressed and drinking champagne, on a set that looked like a huge hotel lobby. There was a gigantic Christmas tree towering over them, and network executives were greeting everyone. He felt silly being there at first, like a new kid in school, but no one seemed to notice. He introduced himself several times, and was secretly impressed when he saw faces he knew, they were stars of successful shows, decked out in sequins and sparkles. The women were beautiful, and the men were handsome, too, and he was suddenly sorry that Mel wasn't there. She would have been awestruck by it all, and she would have loved it. He even saw the star of Sam's favorite show, a freckled-faced boy whose wisecracks Sam always repeated ad infinitum.