by Susan Ward
“Hello?”
I straightened up. “Hi, Pop.”
“Jack?”
He sounded surprised, and Jesus Christ, almost pleased, which confused me.
We hadn’t talked since I’d left for Harvard. He hadn’t called and I hadn’t called him. It had hurt before Lena had reentered my life, and hurt even more knowing the reasons he’d stopped speaking to me. My returning silence had been stubbornness, because back then I’d thought he should have picked up the phone and shown an interest in my life if I mattered to him.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m in Santa Barbara. I thought maybe we could meet for dinner or something.”
A long pause.
“Santa Barbara? Why aren’t you at school?”
Another lapse into silence on the phone. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was pretty sure the Thompsons wouldn’t meddle, but his question confirmed he didn’t know I’d married.
“Is everything all right, son?”
He sounded concerned, which threw me even more, and I quickly said, “I’m fine, Pop. I just wanted to come home for a few days.”
“When will you be at the house?”
“I won’t. I’m staying at a hotel downtown.”
“Why the devil would you do that, Jackie?”
I wasn’t prepared for what I heard in his voice, and I didn’t want to answer that last question, not now on the phone. “So dinner. Do you think you have time for that, Pop?”
“I always have time for you, Jack,” he stated firmly. “Tonight at the house? Regular time?”
“Sure, Pop. See you then.”
I hung up the phone quickly.
When I returned to the room and explained we’d be having dinner with my folks today, Lena went into a panic.
“How could you just do that, Jack, without asking me?”
I leaned back against the door as she sank onto the bed.
“It’s something we have to do, Lena.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t see why. Do you forget what they did to us? How could you do this, Jack?”
“He’s my father,” I said, tightly fighting to hold my temper. “Whatever they’ve done won’t change that.”
Her shoulders squared as she lifted her chin obstinately. “I don’t care. I want nothing to do with them.”
I crossed the room, crouched down in front of her, and took her hands. “It’s going to be all right. We’re married. Nothing can change that. But try to understand. I can’t just cut them from my life. If there’s a chance I can fix this for all of us, you have to let me try.”
Her features tightened. “How do you fix a man turning his back on his son?”
I took her face in my palms. “By helping him turn back around. I’ve got to try, Lena. For all of us. They’re my family. They’re yours and Sammy’s family, too.”
She stared at me. “Sometimes being hopeful is not a good thing. Sometimes it’s better to leave things alone.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, “but I think it’s too late to change me now.”
She made a laugh, frustrated and annoyed with me.
That pretty much ruined the rest of the day. Lena dressed for dinner when I asked her to, but she wasn’t speaking to me unless I spoke to her.
“It’s going to be all right,” I assured her as we entered Hope Ranch along Marina Drive toward the house.
“I’m here, Jack. Doing what you asked me, but don’t expect me to like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to love me.”
She didn’t answer that with words, but she reached out and took my hand.
“I’m sorry I was difficult today,” she said.
“You were difficult? I hadn’t noticed.”
She laughed softly. “You are a charmer, Jackson Parker.”
I glanced at her, grinning. “Have I charmed you?”
She beat back a smile. “Without a doubt.”
“Good. You’re the only one that matters.”
I said it that way, deliberately a message, and also because I meant it and I didn’t want her to mistake it if things went badly with my father.
After I parked in the driveway, I ran around the car but before I could reach Lena’s door, the senator was in the driveway.
“Jack, you’re home,” he said, surprising me with a firm embrace. “We’ve missed you, son.”
“It’s good to be home,” I said.
Smiling, he looked into the car, but it was too dark to see clearly. “Is that Georgie you have with you?”
“No, Pop.” Before I could finish, Lena climbed out with Samuel in her arms.
“Oh no,” my father exclaimed under his breath. “What have you done, Jackie? Damn it, boy, how could you bring her here?”
Lena stood, posture unruffled, chin high in the air as they stared at each other in way that sent a blast of ice across my nerves.
“Hello, Senator Parker.”
“Hello, Lena Mansur.”
I stepped beside her and put an arm around her. “No, Pop. She’s Lena Parker now. We’re married.”
~
I sat in my father’s study, waiting for him to take a breath. Dinner had been put off for a tirade. Fuck, I didn’t know where Lena was, and shit, I should have never let them separate us.
I thought it kinder not to subject Lena to this; I’d forgotten in the heat of the moment that would leave her all alone with Gloria.
“I can’t believe you married her,” he shouted. “Actions have consequences, Jack. Marriage has consequences. You’ve hurt all of us with this.”
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. “Here’s one consequence, Pop. My son. How could you lie to Lena and then try to pay her off? We love each other and we have a child together.”
My dad’s eyes bugged out. “Is that what she told you? I tried to buy her off?”
It wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t denied it.
I leaned back in my chair. “No. She never said that. Not in so many words, but it was obvious what you did.”
My dad settled against the edge of his desk. “The only thing I did was protect my son.”
I met his gaze directly. “The only thing I did was protect mine. He deserves a father and his father’s name.”
The senator shuddered with fury. “God, you can’t be that naïve, Jack. The world isn’t as simple as you see it. Christ, do you even know if that boy is yours?”
My temper surged upward. “He’s my son, Pop. How dare you suggest—”
He grabbed my face in his hands. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asking are you sure?”
“Yes. Damn it, I’m sure,” I yelled, breaking loose of his hold.
“Women are not always truthful, son. I sent her a check. She stayed away. Pretty clear confirmation what she’s after.”
“Was that your first thought when Mom came to you about me? That I wasn’t yours and if you sent her a check, she’d stay away? Is that why she was six months gone before you married her?”
His face darkened. “I loved your mother. She was a good woman. How dare you ask me that?”
“I love Lena. She’s an amazing woman. How could you try to buy her out of my life?”
He turned away and sat behind his desk. “Amazing or not, she’s just ruined your future and you can’t see it. Her mistakes are your mistakes now, her reputation a stain on yours as well. And on all of us. That’s how the world works. And I was only trying to help you, protect you, Jack.”
“I don’t want any future without Lena in it, Pop.”
He shook his head. “I will not accept that.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Oh yes, I do, Jack. You may have ruined your life marrying that girl, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her destroy the rest of the family. She is not welcome here. Not ever again. You married her, you’ve done the honorable thing. Now divorce her.”
I gaped at him. “How could you tell me to do that?”
He looked away. “I
won’t speak to you again, Jack. Not until you’ve corrected this problem. You’re not welcome here either until she’s out of your life. And you can forget about your monthly checks until this is resolved.”
“You can keep your money, Pop. That’s not why I came here. I came here to forgive you because you’re my father. And instead, you’re showing me the door.”
His lips tightened, but he didn’t answer me.
I went out to find Lena, to find she was all alone and crying in the entry hall on a bench with Sammy.
I lifted the baby from her lap and moved my fingers across her tears. “I’m sorry, Lena. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
I took her to the car.
I felt awful for having put her through that.
And I was ashamed of myself as well.
Until I’d confronted my father, I’d hoped Lena hadn’t told me the truth about his sending a forged note with a check. I wanted it to only be another of her indiscernible games. I know that’s hard to understand, but it wouldn’t have been as hard as finding out my father had done something I couldn’t forgive.
It would have been better if she’d lied to me.
I could forgive Lena anything.
In the car, she curled into me, head against my shoulders as her tears poured. She wouldn’t talk. I wasn’t sure she was able to hear me, but I spoke anyway.
“I love you, Lena. It doesn’t matter what my father does. We’re going to be all right. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to be sad. It’ll be OK.”
But she was silent all the way back to the hotel. I stared out at the beach, determined never to come home, never to put her through this again. For all my reassurance to my wife, I was scared shitless. I didn’t know squat about life then, and I wasn’t sure how I would take care of us.
The streets were dark in every direction and it was a blessing I couldn’t see the road ahead of me.
Chapter Twenty
The present…
The midday sun is too hot, and Patty is right, my stomach is too red. I put on my shirt, grab my cell phone, leave my chair and cooler where they are for later, and cross the sand.
No one ever steals anything. Santa Barbara is that kind of town and I’m a fixture here. People don’t even look at me as I walk the beach. I’m just the local symbol of an era gone by, that guy who used to play with some ’60s band; a communist; the neighborhood oddball; a radical; a poet or revolutionary.
Whatever.
I’ve been called them all at one time or another.
None of them are accurate.
I’m the man who loved Lena Mansur.
That’s the only handle by which I’ve ever defined myself. Even loving Linda hasn’t changed how I see me.
I head toward the steps to my property. Maybe I can still take Patty up on her offer for lunch. I’m hungry, she’s one hell of a cook, and I’m overly nostalgic today. A little company wouldn’t be bad as I wait until the rays wane before I go back to my chair.
No call from the hospital. No baby yet. Doesn’t matter. I won’t go to Pacific Palisades today anyway.
I bypass the stairs built into the cliffs and follow the shoreline toward Hendry’s Beach instead of going to Patty’s.
At the restaurant on the rocks, I sit on a stool in the bar, smiling as I scan the menu and wait for someone to notice me.
“What can I get you to drink, sir?” a soft melodic voice inquires.
I look up and realize the girl is new. She’s staring at me with a polite smile and nothing else.
“Just bring me a Virgin Bloody Mary, please. I haven’t decided if I’m eating yet.”
“Be right up.”
I watch her prepare the drink, making sure she doesn’t get it wrong.
“Load it up on the tabasco. Don’t decorate it. I want it with a kick.”
She picks up a bottle. “If you want a kick, maybe we should put the vodka in.”
“Nope. I’ve been kicked by that too often already.”
Laughing, she sets my drink in front of me. “Would you like me to run a tab or just give you the check to settle it out?”
Oh fuck.
I don’t have any money.
I never have my wallet on me at the beach.
Christ, this is embarrassing.
I look around and because it’s a Tuesday there’s no one working that I know among the light staff.
Great.
My phone vibrates and I grab it from my pocket. Chrissie—again—only this time I’m glad she called me instead me calling her.
I switch on my cell and wait for her face to appear on the screen “Hey, baby girl. Any news yet?”
“No news.”
“Then why are you calling me instead of focusing on your daughter?”
“I’m not with my daughter. I’m in the hallway. Kaley’s had enough of everyone, except Bobby, and she’s had enough of the pain. We all got booted out so the doctor could give her a block.”
I laugh. “Good for her. That girl knows her own mind.”
“Yep, she’s definitely Alan’s daughter.”
“Hey, do you think if you held up a credit card to the screen the girl at the restaurant could take it as payment?”
Chrissie frowns. “What?”
“I left the house without my wallet and I ordered a drink.”
“Where are you?”
“The restaurant at Hendry’s.”
Her brows shoot up. “And they’re making you pay?”
I shrug. “They’ve got all kinds of new college kids working here. I don’t want to be a problem.”
“Daddy, just tell her who you are.”
“Chrissie—”
“Fine. Hand her the phone.”
I look around for the girl, and when she sees me watching her, she hurries back. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”
“My daughter would like to speak to you,” I say, holding out the phone.
Her brow puckers as she takes my cell. She stares down and I can hear Chrissie. “Listen, my father forgot his wallet and he wants me to give you a credit card by phone—”
“Oh my God, you’re Christian Parker.” The girl’s eyes go wide. “You have absolutely no idea how much your music means to me. ‘Take Back the Dawn.’ Best broken heart song ever.”
“Actually, that’s not my song,” Chrissie says. “It’s a cover. That’s my father’s song.”
“The words are brilliant. You should tell him.”
“Well, he’s sitting next to you, and that’s why I’m calling.”
“The guy without his wallet wrote that song?”
Oh, great. New one to add to the list: the guy without his wallet.
“Yes. My father. Jackson Parker.”
Chrissie will never let me live this down.
After the girls spend a few more minutes torturing me and my tab is resolved because the server won’t take Chrissie’s money, the waitress hands back the phone to me.
I looked at my daughter. “Not one word, not ever, about this.”
Her eyes glow impishly. “I promise.”
“Good.”
She frowns. “Are you OK, Daddy? I’m worried about you. You seem really off today.”
I smile. “I’m not off. I’m pensive. Babies being born make men pensive. I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things.”
“What kind of things?”
I shrug. “Just stuff and junk, baby girl.”
“Fine. Have it your way. I’ll let you get back to your lunch, Daddy. I’ll leave you alone until the baby’s born—”
“Chrissie,” I interrupt. “There’s something I want to say to you. It’s probably not the right time, but I kind of need to do it today.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Do you remember the spring of ’89?”
“How could I forget, Daddy? It’s when I met Alan and we had our first spring fling.”
“I’m sorry for wha
t I did.”
She studies my face, puzzled. “I don’t understand. You did nothing to be sorry for, Daddy. Believe me, with five kids, I understand why you flew to New York when you found out about Alan and me.”
“I’m not apologizing for going to New York and bringing you home. I’m apologizing for what I did after.”
Her eyes fill with surprise. “What did you do after?”
“The second you got home I practically pushed you out the door on that road trip across country with Rene. That’s what I’m sorry about.”
Chrissie laughs. “You didn’t push me. Rene dragged me out the door. It was her idea. The entire trip.”
“No, Chrissie. You’re remembering it wrong and I’ve regretted it for a lot of years. It’s just…the way Alan looked at you in New York scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t ready to let go of you, and he looked at you exactly the way I used to look at your mother. I knew he’d follow after you and I’ve regretted getting in the way of that. I should never have stood between you two. Maybe it would have all worked out easier for you if I hadn’t.”
Chrissie’s eyes widen in amusement. “Daddy, Alan and I stood in our way without your help. But thank you for telling me that part about the way he looks at me.”
“I just thought you should know I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not sorry.” She shakes her head. “Alan and I are happy, and there is no way to know if there was any other way for us to get here. Remember? No matter the turns we take, the journey ends as it’s supposed to. You taught me that, Daddy. I don’t regret anything and you shouldn’t either.”
I nod, my chin jutting out. “Thanks, baby girl. It’s been on my mind today.”
“I need to run. I think they’re letting me back into Kaley’s room. But why don’t you think about that one for a while? The journey ends as it’s supposed to. Wise words, and Linda is divorced now. I know she’s hurt you haven’t called her. It doesn’t matter whatever the two of you did to cause the stalemate. Listen to your own advice and call her.”
Click.
I set the phone on the bar, shaking my head. I was wrong when I told her that junk about the journey. But then, I’ve been wrong about many things.
The journey doesn’t always end as it’s supposed. And we do make wrong turns. Turns we can’t fix, and the road we’re on swallows us whole and we can’t see a damn thing clearly.