“He called me last night. I don't think you should interfere.”
“Are you crazy?” He wanted to strangle her with the telephone cord. “Don't you understand what this will do to his life?”
“What do you want him to do? Kill the girl?”
“Don't be an ass, for chrissake,” he couldn't believe what he was hearing from her, “she should get rid of it, or at least put the baby up for adoption. And Benjamin should come to his senses.”
“This doesn't sound like the Oliver I know … since when did you become such a champion for abortion?”
“Since my seventeen-year-old son knocked up his seventeen-year-old girlfriend, and proposed to ruin both their lives by being noble.”
“You have no right to interfere with what he thinks is right.”
“I can't believe I'm hearing this from you What's happening to you? Don't you care about his education? Don't you realize that he wants to give up school now, drop out of high school, and completely forget college?”
“He'll come around. Wait until the kid starts screaming day and night, like he did. He'll be begging you to help him escape, but in the meantime he has to do what he thinks is right.”
“I think you're as crazy as he is. It must be genetic. And is that the kind of advice you're giving him?”
“I told him to do whatever he believed in.”
“That's nonsense.”
“What are you telling him to do?”
“To pull up his socks, drag up his grades, get his ass back in school, and let the girl go to a home for unwed mothers, and have the baby put up for adoption.”
“It's certainly nice and tidy anyway. Too bad he doesn't agree with you.”
“He doesn't have to agree with me, Sarah. He's a minor. He has to do what we tell him to do.”
“Not if he tells you to go to hell, which he will if you push him too hard.”
“Just like you did?” He was furious with her, she was playing with Benjamin's life with her goddamn liberal ideas.
“We're not talking about us, we're talking about him.”
“We're talking about one of our kids ruining his life, and you're talking garbage.”
“Face reality, Oliver, it's his kid, his life, and he's going to do exactly what he wants to do, whether you like it or not, so don't give yourself ulcers over it.” It was hopeless talking to her, and eventually he hung up, even more frustrated than before.
And on Saturday morning, Benjamin came to his father as the moving van appeared in the driveway. They were sending small things to New York, some linens, and the clothes they needed.
“Ready to go, Son?” Oliver tried to sound cheerful, and as though nothing were wrong, as though that might make a difference and convince him. But Benjamin looked quiet and determined.
“I came to say good-bye to you, Dad.” There was an endless silence between them.
“You have to come with us, Son. For your own sake. And maybe even for Sandra's.”
“I'm not going. I'm staying here. I've made my decision. I'm dropping out of school right now. I've got a job in a restaurant, and I can stay at Sandra's apartment with her.” In a way, Oliver had forced his hand with the move to New York, and he was almost sorry.
“And if I let you stay in the house? Will you go back to school?”
“I'm sick of school. I want to take care of Sandra.”
“Benjamin, please … you can take better care of her if you get an education.”
“I can always go back to school later.”
“Does the school know about this yet?” Benjamin dashed the last of his father's hopes as he nodded.
“I told them yesterday afternoon.”
“What did they say?”
“They wished us luck. Sandra had already told her homeroom teacher about the baby.”
“I can't believe you're doing this.”
“I want to be with her … and my kid … Dad, you would have done the same thing.”
“Possibly, but not in the same way. You're doing the right thing, but in the wrong way and for the wrong reasons.”
“I'm doing the best I can.”
“I know you are. What if you take a high school equivalency test, take some time off now and go to college in the fall. That's still a possibility, you know.”
“Yes, but it's not what I want anymore, Dad. I want to be out in the real world. I've got real responsibilities of my own, and a woman I love … and a baby in September.” It was ridiculous thinking about it, and yet it was real. Oliver wanted to cry standing on his front lawn, watching the moving men carrying boxes in and out of the house, under Aggie's directions. It was all crazy. In four months, Sarah had destroyed their lives, and now none of it would ever be the same.
He suddenly wondered why the hell he was moving to New York, if Benjamin wasn't even coming. And yet, there were things he liked about the idea, like being able to get home earlier at night, and spending more time with Mel and Sam. Mel had calmed down in the last week, knowing that the move was only for two months for now, and on a trial basis, and they would come back to Purchase for weekends, and for the whole summer. And what made it even more interesting was that all of her friends were impressed and were dying to come and see her in the city. “Dad, I've got to go. I start work at two o'clock, and Sandra's waiting for me at the apartment”
“Will you call me?”
“Sure. Come and see us when you're in town.”
“I love you, Benjamin. I really, really love you,” He threw his arms around the boy, and held him close as they both cried.
“Thanks, Dad. Everything'll be all right …” Oliver nodded, but he didn't believe it. Nothing would ever be all right again, or at least not for a long, long time.
Oliver watched the boy drive away with tears rolling down his cheeks, and he waved at him slowly, and then Benjamin was out of sight, and his father walked slowly back into the house. He had brought the whole damn mess to a head without meaning to, and now Benjamin was a dropout, working in a restaurant and living with a floozy, but maybe something good would come of it, one day … one far-off, distant day….
Inside the house, like it or not, everything was chaos. Moving men were everywhere, the dog was barking frantically, and Sam was so excited, he could hardly stand it, as he ran around the house clutching his bear. Mel stayed on the phone almost until the instant they left, and Aggie insisted on leaving everything in order. But finally they got out, and with a last look at the house they loved, followed the moving van to new adventure in New York. There was a plant from Daphne waiting for them there, and fruit and cookies for the kids, and a box of dog biscuits for Andy. It was the perfect welcome, and Mel squealed excitedly as she saw her room, and made a dash for the phone there.
But as they settled in, all Oliver could think about was Benjamin in his new life, a life he'd bitterly regret one day, if it took that long for him to regret it. And Oliver felt as though, one by one, he was losing the people he loved most dearly.
Chapter 12
The move to New York was the best thing he had done for them in years, Oliver realized within a matter of days. Sam loved his new school, and he had an easy time making friends. And Mel was crazy about her new school, spending time with Daphne whenever she could, going to Bloomingdale's, and calling everyone she knew at home to report each new development in her glamorous new life in the city. And best of all, Oliver managed to get home before dinner every night, and spend the kind of time with the kids that he wanted to. Mel was still on the phone most of the time, but she knew he was there. And he and Sam had hours to talk and read and play games, and with the warmer weather in early May, they sometimes went to the park to play ball after they ate dinner. It was the perfect life. Except for Benjamin, whom Ollie missed constantly, and worried about most of the time. He had lost two people now, although he made a point of seeing the boy every week when they went home to Purchase for the weekends. He wanted him to come over and have dinner with them, but Ben w
as working at night, and it almost broke his father's heart when he stopped in to see him at the restaurant, working as a busboy for a tiny salary. He renewed his offer to let him stay at the house, much as he disliked the idea of his living alone, and he begged him to go back to school. But Benjamin wouldn't leave Sandra now. And when Ollie glimpsed her one Saturday afternoon, he was shocked. She looked more than five months pregnant, and Oliver wondered if the baby was really his son's. He asked Benjamin as much when he had the chance, but the boy only looked hurt and insisted that it was his baby. He said he was sure of it. And Oliver didn't want to press him.
The hardest blow of all came when the college letters began rolling in. Oliver would find them at the house on the weekend. Benjamin still wanted to get his mail there. The school had never notified them that Benjamin had dropped out, and he had been accepted by all except Duke. He could have gone to Harvard, or Princeton, or Yale, and instead he was scraping other people's food off plates in a restaurant, and at eighteen he was going to be a father. It almost broke Ollie's heart to think about it. Oliver answered all of the letters himself, explaining to all that because of difficult family circumstances at the time, he was unable to accept, but he would like to reapply the following year. Ollie still hoped to get him to New York to finish school. A year would be lost in his life, but no more. And he didn't bring it up with Benjamin again. It was a sensitive subject, and he seemed totally wrapped up in his life with Sandra.
“How about coming to New York for a few days sometime?” Oliver would have done anything to lure him there, but the boy was serious about his responsibilities, and he always declined, explaining that he couldn't leave Sandra alone, and Oliver never extended the invitation to her. Benjamin hadn't been to Boston, either, to see his mother since he'd left home, but he seemed to talk to her from time to time. But Mel and Sam visited her, once they were settled in their new home. They seemed quieter about things this time when they came back, and Oliver had the feeling that Sam was unhappy about something. He tried to ask Mel about it once, but she was vague, saying only that Mom was pretty busy with school. But Oliver sensed that there was something else, and one evening it came out, as he and Sam were playing cards. It was a quiet night, and they were alone. For once, Mel was studying in her room.
“What do you think about French people, Dad?” It was an odd question and his father looked up with a puzzled frown.
“French people? They're okay. Why?”
“Nothing. I just wondered, that's all.” But Ollie sensed that there was more, and the boy wanted to talk, but was afraid to.
“Is there a French boy at your school?”
Sam shook his head and discarded again, stroking Andy's head as he waited for his father to play. He loved the evenings they shared now. He was really beginning to enjoy their new life. But he still missed his mother and Benjamin, as all three of them did. “Mom's got this friend. …” The words came out as he played, and stared at the cards, and suddenly all of his father's antennae went up. So that was it. She had a boyfriend.
“What kind of friend?”
The child shrugged, and picked another card. “I don't know. He's okay, I guess.” Mel just happened to be walking by, and she stopped, trying to catch Sam's eye, but he wasn't looking at her, and Oliver looked up and saw the look on her face as she slowly wandered toward them.
“Who's winning?” She tried to distract them both from what Sam had just said. She knew they weren't supposed to talk about it, although Sarah hadn't said that to them, but it was understood between them.
“Sam is. We were just having a little chat.”
“Yeah.” Mel looked at Sam disapprovingly. “So I heard.”
“Your mom has a new French friend?”
“Oh, he's not new,” Sam was quick to add. “He was there before. We met him another time too. But he's staying with Mom now. You know, kind of like a friend. He's from France, and his name's Jean-Pierre. He's twenty-five, and he's here on an exchange program for two years.”
“How nice for him.” Oliver's face set in a thin line as he picked another card without even seeing what it was. “Nice for Mom, too, I guess. What's he like?” He hated to pump the child, but he wanted to know now. She was living with a twenty-five-year-old man, and exposing her children to him. It made him furious just thinking of it.
“It was no big deal, Dad. He slept on the couch when we were there.” And when you're not, he wanted to ask. Then where does he sleep? But they all knew that. Even Sam had commented on it to Mel on the way back, wanting to know if she thought their mother was in love with him. And she had made him once again promise not to tell their father.
“That's nice,” he repeated again. “Is he a nice guy?”
“He's okay.” Sam seemed unimpressed. “He makes a big fuss over Mom. I guess that's what French guys do. He brought her flowers and stuff, and he made us eat 'croissants.' I like English muffins better, but they were okay. It was no big deal.” Except to Oliver, who felt as though there were smoke coming from his ears. He could hardly wait to put Sam to bed, and it seemed like hours when he was finally free of him, and Mel intercepted him then, suspecting how he felt about what Sam had said.
“He shouldn't have told you all that. I'm sorry, Dad. I think he's just a friend of Mom's. It was just a little weird with him staying there.”
“I'll bet it was.”
“He said his lease had run out, and Mom was letting him sleep on the couch until he found another place to live. He was nice to us. I don't think it means anything.” Her eyes were big and sad, and they both knew it meant a lot more than she was admitting to her father. It meant Sarah had moved on, and there was a man in her life, unlike Oliver, who still longed for her every night, and hadn't had a date since she left, and still didn't want to.
“Don't worry about it, Mel.” He tried to look more relaxed about it than he felt, for her sake if nothing else. “Your mother has a right to do whatever she wants now. She's a free agent. We both are, I guess.”
“But you never go out, do you, Dad?” As she looked at him, she seemed proud of him and he smiled at her. It was an odd thing to be proud of him for.
“I just never get around to it, I guess. I'm too busy worrying about all of you.”
“Maybe you should one of these days. Daphne says it would be good for you.”
“Oh she does, does she? Well, tell her to mind her own business, I have enough confusion in my life without adding that.”
And then, his daughter looked at him, knowing the truth. And she was sorry for him. “You're still in love with Mom, aren't you, Dad?”
He hesitated for a long moment, feeling foolish for saying it, but then he nodded as he spoke, “Yes, I $m, Mel. Sometimes I think I always will be. But there's no point in that now. It's all over for us.” It was time she knew, and he suspected they all did anyway. It was five months since she'd left and nothing had turned out as she'd promised. No weekends, no vacations, she hardly ever called now. And now he knew why, if she was living with a twenty-five-year-old boy from France named Jean-Pierre.
“I kind of thought it was.” Mel looked sad for him. “Are you going to get divorced?”
“One of these days, I guess. I'm in no rush. I'll see what your mom wants to do.” And after Mel went to bed, he called her that night, remembering what Sam had said, and he didn't beat around the bush with his wife. There was no point to that. It was long past the time to play games with her.
“Don't you think it's a little tasteless to have a man staying with you when the kids are there?” There was no rage in his voice this time, just disgust. She was no longer the woman he knew and loved. She was someone else. And she belonged to a boy named Jean-Pierre. But she was the mother of his children, too, and that concerned him more.
“Oh … that … he's just a friend, Ollie. And he slept on the couch. The kids slept in my room with me.”
“I don't think you fooled anyone. They both know what's going on. At least Mel does, I can pr
omise you that, and I think Sam has a pretty fair idea too. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't it embarrass you to have your lover staying there?” It was an accusation now, and what really burned him was the guy's age. “I feel like I don't know you anymore. And I'm not even sure I want to.”
“That's your business now, Oliver. And how I live my life, and with whom, is mine. It might do them good if your own life were a little more normal.”
“I see. What does that mean? I should drag in nineteen-year-old girls just to prove my manhood to them?”
“I'm not proving anything. We're good friends. Age is of no importance.”
“I don't give a damn. A certain decorum is, at least when my children are around. Just see that you maintain it.”
“Don't threaten me, Oliver. I'm not one of your children. I'm not your maid. I don't work for you anymore. And if that's what you mean when you say you don't know me, you're right. You never did. All I was was a hired hand to keep your kids in line, and do your laundry.”
“That's a rotten thing to say. We had a hell of a lot more than that, and you know it. We wouldn't have stayed together for damn near twenty years if all you were to me was a maid.”
“Maybe neither of us ever noticed.”
“And what's different now, other than the fact that you've deserted your children? What's so much better? Who cooks? Who cleans? Who takes the garbage out? Someone has to do it. I did my work. You did yours. And together we built something terrific, until you knocked it down, and walked all over it, and us, on the way out. It was a stinking thing to do, to all of us, and especially me. But at least I know what we had. We had something beautiful and worthwhile and decent. Don't denigrate it now just because you walked out.”
There was a long silence at her end, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if she was crying. “I'm sorry … maybe you're right … I just … I'm sorry, Ollie … I couldn't hack it….”
His voice was gentler again. “I'm sorry you couldn't.” His voice was sweet and gruff, “I loved you so damn much, Sarah, when you left I thought it would kill me.”
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