Daddy

by Danielle Steel

  He was sitting in his office one afternoon, staring out the window, at the rain and sleet that were typical of late January in New York, and wondering if she ever would come back. Right then, he'd have settled for a weekend. She'd been gone a month by then, and he was so lonely, he almost thought he couldn't stand it.

  “There's a happy face … can I come in?” It was Daphne Hutchinson, an assistant vice-president of the firm, he'd known her for four years, and they were currently working together on a presentation for a new client. She was a good-looking woman with dark hair she wore pulled back tightly in a bun. She was well-dressed in a chic, European way, everything was very spare and neat about her. And she always wore a great scarf, an expensive pair of shoes, or a piece of discreet but handsome jewelry. He liked her, she was quick and smart, discreet, hardworking, and for whatever reason she had never been married. She was thirty-eight years old, and her interest in striking up a friendship with Oliver over the years had never been more than platonic. She had made it clear to everyone at the firm, from the first, that office romances weren't her style, and through thick and thin and some serious attempts, she had stuck by what she said at the beginning. Oliver respected her for that, and it made her easy to work with. “I've got some of the mock-ups for next week,” she was carrying a large portfolio, but she looked hesitant, “but you don't look much in the mood. Should I come back?” She had heard a rumor that Sarah had left, and she had seen the strain in his face for weeks, but they had never discussed it.

  “That's okay, Daph, come on in. I guess now's as good a time as any.”

  She was worried about him as she walked in. He seemed to have lost weight, his face was pale, and he looked desperately unhappy. She sat down and showed him the work, but he seemed unable to concentrate, and finally she suggested they forget it and offered him a cup of coffee. “Anything I can do? I may not look like much,” she said, grinning amiably, “but I've got tremendous shoulders.”

  He smiled at her. She had great stature in many ways, and lots of style, and he almost forgot how tiny she was. She was a terrific woman, and once again he found himself wondering why she had never married. Too busy perhaps, or too wrapped up in her work. It happened to a lot of them, and then suddenly at forty they panicked. But she didn't look as though she was panicking. She seemed content and self-possessed, and her eyes were kind as he sat back in his chair with a sigh and shook his head. “I don't know, Daph … I guess you've heard …” His eyes bore into hers like two pools of green pain and she had to resist an urge to put her arms around him. “Sarah left last month to go back to school … in Boston …”

  “That's not the end of the world, you know. I thought it was worse than that.” She had heard they were getting a divorce, but she didn't say that to Ollie.

  “I think most likely it is worse than that, but she hasn't got the guts to admit it. We haven't seen her in almost five weeks, and the kids are going nuts on me. So am I. I go crazy every night trying to get out of here, and it's six or seven o'clock most nights. Eight before I get home, and by then everyone's out of control, my dinner's turned to sock, we yell at each other, they cry, and then it all starts again the next morning.”

  “It doesn't sound like much fun. Why don't you take an apartment in New York for a while, at least you'd be closer to work, and the change might do the kids good.” He hadn't even thought about it, but he couldn't see the point of doing that now, putting them through the trauma of changing friends and schools. And he knew they all needed the comfort of familiar surroundings.

  “I'm just barely managing to keep our heads above water, let alone think of moving.” He told her about Mel's fury at him, Benjamin's disappearing act, and Sam's wetting the bed on and off, and sleeping with him every night.

  “You need a break, kid. Why don't you take them somewhere? Why don't you go to the Caribbean for a week, or Hawaii, someplace hot and sunny and happy?” Was there such a place? Would any of them ever be happy again? It seemed difficult to believe and he was faintly embarrassed to be dumping on her, but she didn't seem to mind it.

  “I guess I keep hoping that if we stay right where we are, she'll come back, and we can turn the clock back.”

  “It doesn't usually work like that.”

  “Yeah.” He ran a tired hand through his hair. “I've noticed. I'm sorry to bore you with all this. It just gets to me sometimes. It makes it hard to concentrate on work. But at least it's nice to get out of the house. It's so depressing being there at night, and weekends are worse. It's as though we've all been smashed apart and don't know how to find each other anymore. It wasn't like that before. …” But now he could barely remember how it had been. It seemed as though they had been living through the agony of her absence for a lifetime.

  “Can I do anything?” She'd never met his kids, but she would have been willing to. She had a lot of free time on her hands on the weekends. “I'll be happy to meet them sometime. Maybe it would do them good, or do you think they'd feel I was trying to grab you from their mother?”

  “I'm not sure they'd even notice.” But they both knew that wasn't the case. He smiled at her, grateful for the sympathetic ear. “Maybe you could come out sometime for the day. It might be fun for all of us, when things settle down a little bit, if they ever do. My mother's been sick lately too. It's like when one thing goes wrong, everything falls apart all at once. Did you ever notice that?” He grinned the boyish smile that melted women's hearts and she laughed.

  “Are you kidding? It's the story of my life. How's the dog?”

  “The dog?” He looked surprised that she would ask. “Fine. Why?”

  “Watch out for him. This'll be the time he'll develop distemper and bite fourteen of your neighbors.” They both laughed and he sighed again.

  “I never thought anything like this would happen to us, Daph. She took me completely by surprise. I wasn't ready for this, and neither were the kids. I thought we had the perfect life.”

  “It happens like that sometimes. People get sick, they die, things change, they suddenly fall in love with someone else, or do some other crazy thing like this. It's not fair, but that's the way it is. You just have to make the best of it, and one day you'll look back, and maybe you'll understand why it happened.”

  “It was me, I guess.” He still believed that, it had to be. “Maybe she felt neglected, or ignored, or taken for granted.”

  “Or stifled, or bored, or maybe she just wasn't such a great person after all.” She was closer to the truth than she knew, but Oliver wasn't ready to admit that. “Maybe she just wanted her own life for a change. It's hard to know the reasons why people do things. It must be even harder for your kids to understand.” She was a wise woman for her years, and Oliver remembered again how much he had always liked her, not in a flirtatious way, but she offered the sound, valuable stuff that solid friendships were made of. It had been years since he'd had a woman as a friend, not since he had married Sarah.

  “If I don't understand it myself, it's not surprising that they don't. And she isn't helping matters by staying away. When she left, she promised to come home every weekend.”

  “That's rough, too, but maybe this is better for all of you. By the time she comes back to visit, you'll all be more settled.” He laughed bitterly at the thought. It seemed an unlikely prospect.

  “There is no such thing at our house. Everyone starts complaining at breakfast, and when I come home they're still at it, or they're not there at all, which is worse. I never realized the kids could be such a handful. They've always been so easy and so good, so well adjusted and happy. And now … I hardly recognize them when I go home at night, the complaints, the moodiness, the arguments, the whining. I can hardly wait to get back here.” And once in the office, he couldn't stand being there either. Maybe she was right. Maybe they should take another vacation.

  “Don't let this become your life.” She said it with a knowing look in her eyes. “You pay a price for that too. Give her a chance, if she come
s back, great. If she doesn't, get your life squared away. Your real life. Not this bullshit. It's no substitute for a real live person. I speak from experience. Believe me.”

  “Is that why you never got married, Daphne?” Un- der the circumstances, it no longer seemed quite so rude to ask her.

  “More or less. That and a few other complications. I swore to myself I'd build a career until I was thirty, and after that some other things happened to keep me occupied, and I took refuge in my work again. And then … well, it's a long story, but suffice it to say this is it for me. I love it, it works for me. But it's not much of a life for most folks. And you've got kids. You need more than just this in your life. Your kids will be gone one day, and that desk isn't much company after midnight.” Everyone knew that she stayed as late as ten o'clock some nights. But it was also why she made the best presentations. She worked like a dog on what she did, and she was brilliant at it.

  “You're a wise woman.” He smiled at her and looked at his watch. “Think we should take another stab at that stuff you brought in?” It was almost five o'clock, and he was thinking about going home, but it was still a little bit too early.

  “Why don't you go home early for a change? It might do your kids good, and you too. Take them out to dinner somewhere.”

  He looked surprised by the idea, he had never even thought of it, he was so desperately clinging to their old routines. “That's a great idea. Thank you. You don't mind if we do that stuff again tomorrow?”

  “Don't be silly. I'll have more to show you.” She got up and walked to the door, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Hang in there, kid. The storms may hit all at once, but the good news is they don't last forever.”

  “You swear?”

  She held up two fingers with a grin. “Scout's honor.”

  She left and he dialed the house, and Agnes answered. “Hi, Aggie.” He felt happier than he had in days. “Don't bother to cook dinner tonight. I thought I'd come home and take the kids out.” He loved Daphne's idea, she really was one hell of a smart woman.

  “Oh.” Agnes sounded as though he had taken her by surprise.

  “Is something wrong?” Reality was beginning to hit him again. Nothing was easy now. Not even taking the kids out to dinner.

  “Melissa is at rehearsal again, and Benjamin has basketball practice tonight. And Sam is in bed with a fever.”

  “Christ … sorry … all right, never mind. We'll do it another time.” And then, frowning, “Is Sam all right?”

  “It's nothing. Just a cold and a touch of the flu. I suspected he was coming down with something yesterday. The school called and had me pick him up right after I dropped him off this morning.” And she hadn't called him. His kid was sick, and he didn't even know. Poor Sam.

  “Where is he?”

  “In your bed, Mr. Watson. He refused to get into his own, and I didn't think you'd mind.”

  “That's fine.” A sick child in bed with him. It was a far cry from the life that bed had once known, but all of that seemed to be over. He hung up, looking glum, and Daphne appeared again in his doorway.

  “Oh-oh, looks like bad news again. The dog?”

  Ollie laughed. She had a cheering effect on him, almost like a favorite sister. “Not yet. Sam. He has afever. The others are out. Scratch dinner tonight.” And then he had an idea. “Listen, would you like to come out on Sunday? We could take the kids out then.”

  “Are you sure they wouldn't mind?”

  “Positive. They'd love it. We'll go to a little Italian restaurant they love. They have great seafood and terrific pasta. How about it?”

  “It sounds like fun. And let's make a deal, if their mother comes home for the weekend unexpectedly, it's off, no qualms, no hard feelings, no problems. Okay?”

  “Miss Hutchinson, you're much too easy to get along with.”

  “It's my stock in trade. How do you think I got this far? It ain't my looks.” She was modest as well as smart, and she had a great sense of humor.

  “Baloney.”

  She waved and hurried off again, and as he got ready to leave, he wondered why he wasn't physically attracted to her. She was a good-looking girl, and she had a great figure although she was small, and she carefully disguised her shape with businesslike suits and simple dresses. He wondered if he just wasn't ready yet, after all, as far as he knew, he was still married to Sarah. But it was more than that. Daphne put out a vibe that said “I'll be your friend anytime, but don't come too close, pal. Don't touch me.” He wondered what was behind it, if anything, if it was just her policy at work, or if it was more than that. Maybe one day he'd ask her.

  He got home at seven-fifteen, and Sam was sound asleep in his bed, his little head hot and dry with fever.

  The other two were out, and he went downstairs to make himself fried eggs again. There was no dinner left for him. Aggie had made Sam chicken soup and French toast and she figured Ollie could fend for himself. He did, and waited for the others to come home, but it was a long wait. Melissa came in at ten, looking happy and excited. She loved the play, and had a major role, but as soon as she saw Oliver, her face closed up, and she hurried to her room without speaking. It was a lonely feeling, as she closed her door, and it was after midnight when her older brother got home, and Oliver was sitting in the den, quietly waiting.

  He heard the front door close and walked swiftly out to him, with a look on his face that said it all. Benjamin was in big trouble.

  “WhereVe you been?”

  “I have basketball practice on Tuesday nights.” His eyes told his father nothing, but he looked healthy and strong, and everything about him shrieked of independence.

  “Until midnight?” Ollie wasn't about to buy the story.

  “I stopped for a hamburger afterward. Big deal.”

  “No, not 'big deal.' I don't know what's going on with you, but you seem to have the impression that now that your mother's gone, you can do anything you please. Well, that's not the case. The same rules stand. Nothing has changed here, except that she's gone. I still expect you to come home, and stay home on weekday nights, do your work, interact with the rest of the family, and be here when I get home. Is that clear?”

  “Yeah, sure. But what difference does it make?” He looked furious.

  “Because we're still a family. With or without her. And Sam and Mel need you too … and so do I …”

  “That's crap, Dad. All Sam wants is Mom. And Mel spends half her life on the phone, and the other half locked in her room. You don't come home till nine o'clock and when you do, you're too tired to even talk to us. So why the hell should I sit around here wasting my time?”

  Oliver was hurt by his words and it showed. “Because you live here. And I don't come home at nine o'clock. I make it home by eight at least. I break my back to catch that train every night, and I expect you to be here. I'm not going to tell you that again, Benjamin. This has been going on for a month now. You're out every night. I'm going to ground you for a month if you don't knock it off.”

  “The hell you will.” Benjamin looked suddenly furious, and Oliver was shocked. His son had never answered him that way before, he would never have dared. And suddenly he openly defied him.

  “That's it, mister. You win the prize. As of this minute, you're grounded.”

  “Bullshit, Dad!” For an instant, Benjamin looked as though he was going to punch him.

  “Don't argue with me.” Their voices were raised, and neither of them had seen Mel come quietly downstairs, and she stood watching them now from the kitchen doorway. “Your mom may not be here, but I still make the rules here.”

  “Says who?” An angry voice came from beyond them, and they both turned in surprise to see Melissa watching. “What gives you the right to push us around? You're never here anyway. You don't give a damn about us. If you did, you'd never have chased Mom away in the first place. It's all your fault she left, and now you expect us to pick up the pieces.”

  He wanted to cry, listening to b
oth of them. They didn't understand any of it. How could they? “Listen, I want you both to know something.” Tears stood out in his eyes as he faced them. “I would have done anything to keep your mother here, and as much as I blame myself for what she did, I suspect that some part of her always wanted to do that, to go back to school, to get away from all of us and lead her own life. But whether it's my fault or not, I love you all very much.” His voice trembled painfully and he wondered if he could go on, but he did, “and I love her too. We can't let this family fall apart now, it means too much to all of us … I need you kids …” He began to cry, and Mel looked suddenly horrified, “I need you very much … and I love you. …” He turned away, and felt Benjamin's hand on his shoulder, and a moment later he felt Melissa close to him, and then her arms around him.

  “We love you, Dad.” She whispered hoarsely, and Benjamin said nothing but stood close to them. “I'm sorry we've been so awful.” She glanced at her older brother and there were tears in his eyes, too, but no matter how sorry he felt for his father, he had his own life now, and his own problems.

  “I'm sorry.” It was several minutes before he could speak again. “It's hard for all of us. And it's probably hard for her too.” He wanted to be fair to her, not to turn the children against her.

  “Why hasn't she come home like she said she would? Why doesn't she ever call us?” Melissa asked plaintively as the three of them walked slowly into the kitchen. Sarah had hardly called them since moving to Boston.

  “I don't know, sweetheart. I guess there's more work than she thought there would be. I kind of thought that might happen.” But he hadn't expected her to stay away from them for five weeks. That was cruel to Sam, to all of them, and he had told her that repeatedly on the phone, but she just kept saying that she wasn't ready to come home yet. Having made the break, painful as it was, she was flying free now, no matter how much it hurt them. “She'll come home one of these days.”