Эд Макбейн - Love, Dad

“If we’re going for an early lunch,” Joanna said, “I’d better get started. Excuse me,” she said, and went out of the kitchen.

“I’ll be skippin’ lunch, if you don’t mind,” Sparky said, and Lissie quickly looked at him. “Got some business uptown,” he explained to Jamie. “Have to take a rain check.” He looked at his watch. “Fact, I better get crackin’,” he said, and pushed back his chair.

They were alone in the kitchen.

“So,” Lissie said.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Jamie said.

“The thing of it is Mom’s not here, either, you know. I came down here just to see you . Now it’s turning into a big lunch type thing.” She shook her head. “I thought we’d have a chance to talk, you know.”

“Well, if...”

“Instead, it’ll be, you know, polite chitchat. I think we’ve got more to say to each other than just polite chitchat, Dad.”

“Would you like me to ask Joanna...?”

“No, no, I don’t want to upset Joanna.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we had lunch alone. Just the two of us.”

“Well, that’s what I’d like, really, but if it’ll upset Joanna...”

“I’ll ask her.”

“I’d appreciate it, Dad,” she said, and suddenly hugged him.

Over tempura and sukiyaki in a Japanese restaurant on West Fifty-fifth Street, she told him how truly sorry she was not for having been in real touch with him since June, but she’d had her own life to work out, she’d been in the midst of trying to pick up the wreckage of her own life. And then, startling him because she seemed to be in the midst of an apology, she said, “But I guess you don’t much care about other people’s lives, do you, Dad?”

“Lissie,” he said, “peace,” and smiled and covered her hand with his own. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way to New York to argue with me.”

“Well, I wasn’t aware we were arguing,” she said. “I’m trying to have a meaningful discussion here. That’s what you asked for in your letter, isn’t it? A more open communication? Okay, I’m trying to communicate.”

“Well, it’s not really communication when you accuse me of...”

“I didn’t accuse you of anything,” Lissie said. “I simply asked whether you cared much about other people’s lives.”

“I care about your life, yes, Lissie.”

“How about Sparky’s life? Do you care about his life?”

“I hardly know Sparky.”

“You could get to know him better...”

“Lissie...”

“... if you’d make any kind of effort. I mean, we’re both decent people, Dad, you don’t have to...”

“I know you are. But, Lissie, I really don’t want to talk about Sparky just now.”

“What do you want to talk about, Dad?”

“I want to know what’s happening to us. I want to mend whatever...”

“It’s a little late to be asking that, isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so. If I thought it was too late, I wouldn’t have written that letter to you.”

“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s start all over again.”

“Please,” he said, and squeezed her hand.

“Let’s get it all out of our systems, let’s clear the air.”

“That’s just what I want to do.”

“So,” she said.

“So,” he said, and paused. “I’ve always leveled with you, Liss...”

“I know you have.”

“Not because you’re a decent person, which I’ve never doubted, by the way, but also because you’re my daughter. And I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

“It’s just that each and every time we’ve tried to communicate recently...”

“I know.”

“You’ve misunderstood my concern and interpreted it instead as anger or...”

“No, I...”

“... or reprimand, or scorn...”

“Well, guilt-ridden was what I thought.”

“Whatever.”

“Yes,” she said, and nodded.

“When all I was trying to do was understand what was happening to us.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to correct that situation, Liss. I really would.”

“So would I.”

“If you love me as much as you love your... as much as you love Mom ... then my happiness and welfare should at least be of some concern to you.”

“It is, Dad.”

“I’m very happy with Joanna, Liss.”

“I’m glad about that. Really I am.”

“And I hope to stay married to her for the rest of my life.”

“Good, I hope so, too, Dad.”

“I’ve been trying to keep a dialogue open between us, Liss, you know I have. I’ve invited you here repeatedly without response, I’ve sent gifts without your acknowledgment...”

“Well, I’ve been going through a lot, you know. Sparky...”

“Yes, I know that. But still...”

“Anyway, that’s what we’re trying to put behind us, isn’t it? I mean, I’m here, we’re together again...”

“But shouldn’t we discuss this, Liss? I mean...”

“Sure, let’s get it all out in the open.”

“I really do want you to be a part of this family.”

“That’s what I want, too.”

“But it won’t work if you continue to believe your mother... Mom ... was unfairly treated. Isn’t that what you really believe, Liss?”

“Well, yes, Dad. Sort of. But I’ll get over it.”

“But why do you feel that way, Lissie? It wasn’t your mother who rushed up to the Henderson School every weekend when you were confined to campus, it was me. It wasn’t your mother... Mom... who nursed you through that drug episode in June. When you tell me...”

“Yeah, Dad, but you’re the one who left, not Mom.”

“Okay, I admit that. But in people’s lives...”

“And you know, being great in tragedies doesn’t necessarily mean a person’s good at other things, too, you know what I mean?”

“I didn’t mean that to sound...”

“No, I know. But, like, what am I supposed to say to that? Gee, too bad there weren’t more tragedies? I mean, do you see what I mean?”

“Yes, Lissie. But I’ve tried to be a good father in other ways as well. I wasn’t saying that rushing you to the doctor...”

“Oh, I know that. I meant... like... well, for example, I had to learn from Mom just how long this thing with Joanna had been going on. You expect your welfare to be of some concern to me, but you never tell me anything. So how can you expect... I mean, it was going on for two years , Dad. And God knows how many other women...”

“There were never any other women.”

“Well, Mom doesn’t seem to think that was the case.”

“Mom is wrong.”

“She thinks you had an affair with Mrs. Blair, for example.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, she thinks so.”

“Your mother...”

“It doesn’t really matter, anyway, does it? I mean, who cares about that, that’s not the point. The point...”

“The point is I wasn’t.”

“Okay, you weren’t, let’s say you weren’t. The point is you didn’t choose to tell me any of this, I had to hear it from Mom. She’s the one who tells me things, she’s the one who accepts me for what I am, Dad.”

“What are you, Lissie?” he said. “Please tell me what you are.”

“You know what I am, Dad. I’m a hippie.”

“A hippie,” he repeated, and nodded.

“A hippie, yes, Dad.”

“Well,” he said, and sighed. “I guess it’s okay to call yourself a hippie and go running around the street in secondhand clothes when you’re only nineteen. But if you’re still running around the street that way when you’re forty, then you’re not a hippie anymore, Liss, you’re a bum.”