Daddy (9 page)

“Will we ever see her again?” It was just what Ollie had feared. Sam trusted nothing and no one now, but Ollie wasn't sure he did himself, who could blame him?

“Of course we will. And one of these days we won't feel quite this bad. It hurts like hell right now though, doesn't it?” His voice choked up again, and in the backseat Benjamin blew his nose. Mel was crying, too, but she was lost in her own thoughts, and said nothing to any of them, and hadn't since that morning.

It was going to be odd being mother and father to them, odd doing the things she had done for them … taking them to the doctor … the orthodontist … buying Sam's shoes … when would he find the time for all of it? How would he manage without her? But more importantly than that, how would he live without the woman he loved, without her hand and her life and her comfort and her laughter? It was a long quiet drive to Vermont, and no one spoke until they were well into Massachusetts and stopped for dinner.

Sarah was in Boston by then, and on her way to Cambridge, to start a new life. The life she had wanted, without them.

Chapter 5

In the end, the skiing was fun, and after the first few days they all started to come to life again, although some of them more slowly than others. Sam had nightmares at night, and he cried easily now, but he laughed, too, and he had a great time skiing with his father. And Benjamin even entered a downhill race before they went home, but whenever he wasn't skiing, he was calling friends, as though they alone held the solution to all his problems. Only Mel remained withdrawn, skiing halfheartedly and avoiding the rest of them. She was the only female in their midst now, and Oliver tried to boost her spirits repeatedly, but she wouldn't even let him get near her. She seemed to have nothing to say to them, the only one she ever spoke to was Sam, and even with him she was painfully quiet.

Oliver kept busy with all of them, renting skis and boots for them, loading and unloading the car, organizing meals, tucking Sam into bed, keeping an eye on Mel, making sure everyone was properly dressed, and by eight o'clock at night he was exhausted. He could barely get through their evening meal, and at night he fell into bed with Sam. He had decided to share a room with him, in case the child was too lonely. And Sam wet the bed twice, which kept Oliver busy even at night, changing sheets, turning the mattress around, and finding fresh blankets. It was obvious that Sam was deeply distressed, as they all were, but Ollie had his hands so full with them that he hardly had time to think of Sarah. It was only at night, as he lay in bed, that he could feel the ache in his heart, and when he woke in the morning, the pain of the memory of her struck him with the weight of a mountain. It was a little bit as though she had died, and it was only on the third day they were in Vermont that Ollie even brought her name up. He said something about “Mom,” and their heads spun around, each of them wearing the clear evidence of their pain, and he was instantly sorry he had said it.

It was New Year's Day when they drove back, and they were all in better spirits, and looked incredibly healthy. It was when they got home that it hit them again. The house was too quiet, the dog was asleep, and even Aggie was out. And Oliver realized that they had all secretly hoped that Sarah would be waiting for them, but she wasn't. She was long gone, and even though Oliver had her number at the hotel in Cambridge, he didn't call her that night. He put Sam to bed, after Mel helped him make dinner. Benjamin went out. He appeared in the kitchen dressed for what looked like a date as the others sat at the kitchen table.

“So soon?” Ollie smiled. None of them had even unpacked. “Must be someone special.”

Benjamin smiled noncommittally at his father. “Just a friend. Can I borrow the car, Dad?”

“Don't come home late, Son. And be careful. There will still be a lot of drunks on the road tonight.” At least he was grateful that his son was cautious and he knew he never drove if he drank. More than once, Benjamin had called them to pick him up, even if he'd just had a beer or two with friends. Sarah had drummed that into him, that and a lot of other things. She had left her mark on all of them, and now she was gone, and Oliver wondered when she would come home for the much promised weekend. She'd only been gone for six days, and it already felt like a lifetime.

It was strange going to bed alone that night, and he lay in bed thinking about her, as he had all week, and trying to pretend to himself that he really wasn't. At midnight, he finally turned on the light, and tried reading some papers he had brought home from the office. His boss had been a good sport about giving him the week off on such short notice, and he was in better shape now, but not much. He was still awake when Benjamin came home at one o'clock, and stopped in the doorway to say good night. Oliver had left the door open so he could hear Sam, and Benjamin stood looking sadly at him, as he put the car keys down on a table.

“It must be hard on you, Dad … I mean … with Mom gone.”

Oliver nodded. There wasn't much he could say to him. It was hard on all of them. “I guess well get used to it, and she'll come home soon.” But he didn't sound convinced, and Benjamin nodded. “Did you have a good time tonight? It's kind of late to be coming home at this hour on a school night.”

“Yeah … I kind of lost track of the time. Sorry, Dad.” He smiled and said good night. An hour later Oliver heard Sam crying, and he hurried into his bedroom. The boy was still asleep, and Ollie sat down next to him and stroked his head. His dark hair was damp, and eventually he settled down again. But at four o'clock, Oliver felt him slip into bed beside him. The child cuddled up next to him, and Ollie thought about carrying him back to his room, but in truth he found he was grateful to have him near him, and he turned over and went back to sleep. And father and son slept peacefully until morning.

At breakfast the next day, there was the usual chaos. Aggie cooked waffles and bacon for everyone, which was usually a weekend treat, saved only for special occasions. It was as though she knew they needed something special now, and she had packed an extra nice lunch for Sam, with all his favorites. She was going to drive his car pool now, and Ollie left for the train feeling disorganized and rushed, which was unlike him. He had been busy leaving instructions for everyone, and reminded everyone to come home on time and get to work on their homework. That was what Sarah did, wasn't it? Or was it? Everything had always seemed so peaceful when she was there, so in control, and so happy when he left for the office. And once there, he was greeted by a week's stack of work and reports on pending projects. He couldn't leave until seven o'clock that night, and it was close to nine when he got home. Benjamin was out again, Mel was on the phone with friends, and Sam was watching TV in his father's bed, having forgotten to do his homework, and Aggie hadn't pressed him. She told Oliver she hadn't wanted to upset him.

“Can I sleep with you, Dad?”

“Don't you think you should sleep in your own bed, Son?” He was afraid it might become a nightly habit.

“Just tonight? … please … I promise, I'll be good.”

Oliver smiled at him, and stooped to kiss the top of his head. “I'd be a lot happier if you'd done your homework.”

“I forgot.”

“Apparently.” He took off his coat and tie, set down his briefcase near the desk, and sat down on the bed next to Sam, wondering if Sarah had called, but not daring to ask him. “What'd you do today?”

“Nothing much. Aggie let me watch TV when I got home.” They both knew Sarah had never let him do that. Things were changing rapidly without her, a little too much so for Ollie.

“Where's Benjamin?”

“Out.” Sam looked unconcerned.

“So I gathered.” And he was going to have to handle that too. He was not allowed to go out on weekday nights, even if this was his senior year. He was only seventeen, and Ollie wasn't about to let him run wild without Sarah. “Tell you what, champ. I'll let you sleep here tonight, but that's it. Tomorrow you go back to your own bed. Deal?”

“Deal.” They shook hands on it as the child grinned, and Oliver turned off the light.

“I'm going to go downstairs to get something to eat. Get some sleep.”

“G'night, Dad.” He looked happy as he snuggled into the big bed, taking over the half that had been Sarah's.

“Sleep tight …” Oliver stood looking at him for a long moment from the doorway. “I love you.” He whispered the words, and then went to check on Mel. She had dragged the hall phone into her bedroom, and there was disorder everywhere, clothes, books, hot rollers, shoes. It was a wonder she could get into the room at all, and she looked up at her father with a curious look as he waited for her to end the call. But she only covered the receiver with her hand.

“You want something, Dad?”

“Yes. Hello and a kiss might be nice. Have you done your homework?”

“Hello. And yes, I have.” She sounded annoyed even to be asked the question.

“Want to keep me company while I eat dinner?” She hesitated, and then nodded, looking none too pleased. She would have preferred staying on the phone with her friend, but her father had made it sound like a command performance. The truth was, he didn't want to eat alone, and she was the only candidate in the house, other than Aggie.

“Okay. I'll be right down.” He picked his way gingerly across the room, and went downstairs to find the dinner Aggie had left him. She had wrapped the plate
in
tinfoil and left it in the oven to stay warm, but when he uncovered it, there wasn't much there he wanted.

The lamb chops were overcooked, the baked potato was still hard, and the broccoli had died hours before. Even the smell of it didn't appeal to him, and he threw it all out and made himself fried eggs and fresh-squeezed orange juice, waiting for Mel to join him. He gave up eventually and by the time she came down, he was finished eating.

“Where's Benjamin?” He thought she might know, but she only shrugged.

“With friends, I guess,”

“On a weekday night? That's not very smart.” She shrugged again, and looked pained to be baby-sitting for her father. “Are you spending any time with Sam when you get home?” He worried about Sam most of all, especially when it was hard for him to get home on time. The child needed more in his life now than just Aggie.

“I have a lot of homework to do, Dad.”

“That didn't look like homework to me just now, in your bedroom.”

“He's in bed, isn't he?”

“He wasn't when I got home. He needs you now, Mel. We all do.” He smiled. “You're the lady of the house now that Mom's gone.” But it was a responsibility she had never wanted. She wanted to be free to be with her friends, or at least talk to them. It wasn't her fault her Mom had gone. It was his. If he hadn't done whatever he did that she still couldn't figure out, Sarah would probably never have left them. “I want you to spend time with him. Talk to him, keep him company for a little while, check his homework.”

“Why? He's got Aggie.”

“That's not the same thing. Come on, Mel, be nice to him. You always used to treat him like your baby.” She had even cradled him the night Sarah told them she was leaving. But now, it was as though she wanted no part of any of them. Like Sarah, she had divorced herself from all of them. And Oliver suddenly wondered if Benjamin was having the same reaction. He seemed to want to be out all the time, and that was going to have to stop too. He just wished he had more time with all of them, to help them cope with their reactions and their problems. The phone rang as he was talking to her, and he almost sighed when he heard his father on the line. He was too tired to talk to him now. It was after ten o'clock, and he wanted to shower and climb into bed with Sam. It had been a brutal day at the office, and coming home at night was no longer easy either.

“Hi, Dad. How are you?”

“I'm all right.” He seemed to hesitate, and Oliver watched Mel escape while he talked to his father. “But your mother's not.”

“Oh? Is she sick?” For once, Oliver was too tired to be very worried.

“It's a long story, Son.” The older man sighed as Oliver waited for the news. “She had a brain scan this afternoon.”

“My God … what for?”

“She's been acting confused … and she got lost last week while you were gone. I mean really lost this time, and she fell off some steps and sprained her ankle.” Oliver felt suddenly guilty for not calling from Vermont, but he had had his hands full too. “She's lucky, I suppose, at her age, she could have broken her hip, or worse.” But it couldn't be much worse than what they had told him.

“Dad, they don't do brain scans for a sprained ankle. What
is
it?” His father seemed to be wandering too, and Oliver was too tired to listen to a long story.

He seemed to hesitate again. “I was wondering if … could I drive over to see you?”

“Now?” Oliver sounded stunned. “Dad, what's wrong?”

“I just need to talk, that's all. And our neighbor Margaret Porter will keep an eye on her. She's been a great help. Her husband had the same kind of problems.”

“What problems? What are you talking about? What did they find?” Oliver sounded impatient with him, which was rare, but he was so tired and suddenly very worried.

“No tumors, nothing like that. That was a possibility, of course. Look … if it's too late …” But it was obvious that he needed to talk to someone, and Ollie didn't have the heart to tell him not to come over.

“No, it's fine, Dad, come on over.”

He put a pot of coffee on and made himself a cup, wondering again where Benjamin was and when he was coming home. It was too late to be out on a school night, and he was anxious to tell him just that. But his father arrived first, looking worn and pale. He looked years older than he had just a week before on Christmas, and it reminded Oliver again of his father's weak heart. He wondered if he should be out driving alone at night, but he didn't want to upset him now by asking.

“Come on in, Dad.” He hoped the doorbell hadn't woken Sam, as he escorted his father into the big, friendly kitchen. His father declined the coffee, but took a cup of instant decaf, and let himself slowly down into one of the kitchen chairs, as Ollie watched him. “You look worn out.” He probably shouldn't have let him come, but he had thought his father needed to talk, and he was right. He slowly told Oliver the results of the brain scan.

“She has Alzheimer's, Son. Her brain is visibly shrinking, according to the scan. They can't be sure of course, but that and her recent behavior seem to confirm the diagnosis.”

“That's ridiculous.” Oliver didn't want to believe it. “Get another diagnosis.” But George Watson only shook his head. He knew better.

“There's no point. I know they're right. You don't know the things she's been doing lately. She gets lost, she gets confused, she forgets simple things she's known all her life, like how to use a phone, the names of friends.” Tears filled his eyes. “Sometimes she even gets confused about who I am. She's not sure if I'm me, or you. She called me Oliver for days last week, and then she flew into a rage when I tried to correct her. She uses language I've never heard her use before. Sometimes I'm embarrassed to take her out in public. She called the bank teller we see every week a 'fucking asshole' the other day. The poor woman almost fainted.” Oliver smiled in spite of himself. But it wasn't funny. It was sad. And then suddenly George looked around with a puzzled air. “Where's Sarah? In bed?”