Honesty - SF8 (40 page)

After lunch Jamie walked her grandfather back to his house, asking for one small favor when they arrived. "Could you open the church for me, Poppa? I think better there. The world looks clearer to me through stained glass," she said with a chuckle.

"Of course, Sweetheart. I’ll be in my office. Just let me know when you’re leaving."

She went into the cool, quiet space and sat down in the last pew, letting her memories wash over her. Picking up a copy of the Book of Common Prayer, she leafed through the well-used tome, automatically finding some of her favorite passages of scripture. She didn’t have a particular focus, and her thoughts were vague and fleeting, never staying on one topic for long. It was as if her subconscious was processing something and her conscious mind was just along for the ride. After more than an hour she put the book away and stood up, taking in the sweet smell of the candles that permeated the space. Surprisingly, she knew exactly what to do, and without a moment’s hesitation she went to say goodbye to her grandfather and set out for her destination.

"You go right in, Jamie," Helen said as she escorted her into her father’s office. "He’s going to be so excited to see you." Her voice lowered, "He seems really sad about leaving, doesn’t he?"

"I suppose he does," the younger woman smiled, not having any idea if that was the case.

"It’s such a mess in here," the secretary laughed, shaking her head at the organized chaos. "He’s in the middle of packing up his personal things."

Seeing the solitary banker’s box atop the desk, Jamie gave the woman a wry look and asked, "Is the one box all that he’s taking?"

"I suppose so," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "It’s an open secret that he’ll be back in January of 2001," she added. "It doesn’t make much sense to take much. He said he’s only taking things that are absolutely vital."

A young man in a dun-green uniform was removing boxes of legal files from the office, likely taking them to the attorneys who would be taking over Jim’s casework. As the man left the room he closed the door, and she walked over to the desk and sat in her father’s chair. An early memory of coming downtown for Christmas flooded over her, and she recalled sitting in the big leather chair when her feet barely dangled off the edge of the seat.

Idly perusing the contents of the box, she was stunned to regard the item lying on top. It was a framed picture that she had drawn for her father when she was in pre-school. The crudely formed stick figures represented her and her father, his left hand holding her right. In her childish scrawl she had written, "I love you, Daddy" across the top of the paper. "Jamie" was penned across the bottom of the paper, the "J" backwards, and the dot over the "I" a big circle. She was gazing at it intently when she sensed a warm presence over her shoulder. "That was the first sentence you ever wrote," her father said softly, his voice husky with emotion.

"You had this framed?" she asked in wonder, feeling the solid weight of the wood in her hand.

"Of course I did. That was the most amazing love letter I’d ever received." Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew that her father was crying, and seconds later she heard a few sniffs that confirmed her belief.

Reaching into the box, she began to extract the few items, holding each in her hands as her father provided commentary. "That’s from the first round of golf we ever played together," he said as Jamie hefted a Lucite cube in which a small scorecard floated. "That’s from the trip you convinced me to take when you were sure you wanted to be a cowboy when you grew up," he said wistfully, gazing over her shoulder at a picture of the two of them atop horses at a ranch in Colorado. Her boot-clad feet were so short that they barely made it into the stirrups, but the grin on her face was absolutely luminous. The smile on her father’s face was one of loving indulgence, and she had a brief memory of how validated she had felt when he’d agreed to take the little trip. Another photo was of their first ski trip together, still another of her playing in her first match for the golf team at her high school.

Reaching into the box again, Jamie was stunned to find a fairly recent photo—from the AIDS Ride. She and her father were beaming for the camera, him looking so proud that it immediately brought tears to her eyes. "Was this important to you?" she asked softly, extending the picture for him to view.

"Of course," he said with fervor. "You had worked so hard to achieve that goal, Jamie. I’ve never been more proud of you."

Her shoulders sagged as she wearily asked, "Then why can’t you show me that you’re proud of me by trusting my decisions?"

"I do trust you, Jamie," he began, but she help up her hand, unwilling to go down that road again.

"Enough," she said wearily. "You’ve been saying that for months, Daddy, but it’s a loser argument."

"Okay," he agreed quietly, coming around to perch on the edge of his desk. His head cocked a little as he asked, "Did Ryan talk you into coming today?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head a little as she said, "She doesn’t talk me into things, Daddy. In only a few months she’s learned that doesn’t work." Adding a self-effacing chuckle she said, "She knows how to handle me. You really should get some tips from her."

With a hopeful look he asked, "Does that mean that I’ll get the chance to see you again?"

"It depends," she said, gazing deeply into his eyes. "Are you willing to let me make my own choices in life, including my own mistakes?"

"Yes," he said, tears forming in his eyes. "I promise that I’ll do my best to treat you like a woman…
not my little girl."

She nodded, unwilling to keep the animosity going any longer. "I think we should try again," she said. "If you’re willing to apologize to Ryan and to Mother, and begin to treat Ryan like my partner, we can try again."

"It’s taken me a while, but I now know I was wrong. I promise I’ll treat her just the same as if she was your husband..." he began.

Leveling her gaze, Jamie warned, "Don’t get crazy with the promises, Daddy. If you think you’re going to suddenly love her, you’re lying to both of us. All I want is for you to treat her with respect. If you’re open-minded, over time you will come to like her, but that will take a while."

"I promise I’ll try," he said softly, heeding her advice not to bite off more than he could chew.

"That’s all I ask, Daddy. I just want you to try." She got up from the chair and started to walk to the door. "You can write or e-mail me if you want, and I’ll let your calls come through on the cell, okay?"

"That’s more than I deserve," he said sincerely.

Giving him a small smile, she agreed. "This is true. Luckily, I’m bonded to a woman who makes Mother Teresa look like a hothead. Ryan pointed out how short our time together is. I don’t want to waste any more of it, Daddy."

"Jamie," he said hesitantly, "I want you to know how sorry I am about everything—especially for what I did to Ryan and your mother."

"Let’s just move forward, okay, Daddy?" she asked, not wanting even to be reminded of what he had done.

He nodded quickly, agreeing that was the best tactic. "Um…they’re making the announcement about my appointment tomorrow in Washington. You wouldn’t happen to have a free day to be there with me, would you?" There was such a vulnerable, hope-filled look in his eyes that she felt a little sad for him.

"No, I can’t make it," she said. "But I hope it goes well for you."

"Thank you, Honey," he said, moving forward to attempt to hug her goodbye. He approached her warily, neither sure quite how to behave. A quick hug which they both seemed happy to end marked the culmination of the feud, and as they clumsily drew apart, father and daughter shared a meaningful look, both silently hoping that they would never again be estranged.

He stood rooted in place as she continued across the room. "I’ll miss you, Jamie."

She turned to face him, seeing something in his expression that absolutely shocked her. Without allowing her inner voice to censor her words she asked, "Are you afraid to go?"

He looked strangely childlike as he stood in the middle of the room, his hands balled into impotent fists. She could see him swallow as he fought the self-analysis that she was asking him to indulge in. "I…uh…I’ve never lived anywhere but San Francisco," he said. "It’s strange to be going so far from home…especially alone," he finished in an even softer tone. "I feel a little like I’m heading off to my first day of school." His face broke into a warm grin as 15 years disappeared from his face. "I don’t know where that came from," he muttered, a flush creeping up his features.

"From your heart," Jamie said, echoing his smile. "It’s a good thing to listen to."

"I’ll try to remember," he said, his face gentling even more as he met her eyes.

"Keep in touch, Daddy," she whispered, feeling very light and free as she said those words. As her heels crushed a path along the thick pile carpet, she let her mind try to project the path they both had to traverse. She was mature enough to know that they would still have some very tough waters to navigate, and just innocent enough to fully believe that they would successfully do so—together.