Danielle Steel - Daddy

“Are you telling me you're leaving me? Is that what this is about? Are you walking out on us? And just exactly how long have you known that?”

“I only got the letter of acceptance this afternoon, Oliver. I haven't even absorbed it yet myself. And no, I'm not leaving you.” She tried to calm down. “I can come home for vacations and weekends.”

“Oh for chrissake … and what are we supposed to do? What about Mel and Sam?”

“They have Agnes.” They stood in the snow, shouting at each other, and Sarah wished with all her heart that she had waited to tell him. She hadn't even sorted it out herself yet.

“And what about me? I have Agnes too? She'll be thrilled to hear it.”

Sarah smiled at him. Even in anguish, he was decent and funny. “Come on, Ollie … let's just let this thing cool down. We both need to think about it.”

“No, we don't.” His face was suddenly more serious than she had ever seen it. “There should be absolutely nothing to think about. You're a married woman with a husband and three kids. There's no way you can go to a school almost two hundred miles away, unless you walk out on us, plain and simple.”

“It's not that simple. Don't make it that simple, Ol-lie. What if I really need to do this?”

“You're being self-indulgent.” He unlocked the car, yanked open the door, and slid behind the wheel, and when she got in, he stared at her, with fresh questions. “How exactly do you intend to pay for this, or are you expecting me to put you and Benjamin through Harvard?” It was going to be something of a strain on them having one child in college, let alone two when Mel went. And adding Sarah to their burdens seemed even more absurd, but she had long since figured that out, in case she was ever accepted.

“I still have the money my grandmother left me. With the exception of the new roof we put on the house, I've never touched it.”

“I thought that money was earmarked for the kids. We agreed that money was sacred.”

“Maybe it'll mean more to them to have a mother who does something worthwhile with her life, like writing something that might mean something to them one day, or getting a job that does someone some good, or doing something useful.”

“It's a lovely thought, but frankly I think your children would rather have a mother than a literary example.” He sounded bitter as he drove the short distance to the house, and then sat huddled in the car, outside the house in the driveway. “You've already made up your mind, haven't you? You're going to do it, aren't you, Sarrie?” He sounded so sad, and this time when he turned to look at her, she knew that the tears in his eyes weren't from the wind, they were from what she had told him.

Her eyes were damp too as she hesitated, looking out at the snow, and then she turned to face him. “I think maybe I have to, Ollie … I don't know if I can ever explain it … but I have to. It won't be for long, I promise … I'll work as hard as I can, as fast as I can.” But she wasn't kidding anyone. They both knew it was an intense two-year program.

“How can you do this?” He wanted to say “to me,” but it sounded too selfish.

“I have to.” Her voice was a whisper as a car pulled up behind them, and the lights from the headlights behind them lit up their faces. She could see tears rolling down his cheeks and all she wanted to do was hold him. “I'm so sorry … I didn't want to tell you now … I wanted to tell you after Christmas.”

“What difference does it make?” He glanced behind them at Benjamin and Melissa getting out of the other car, and then back at his wife, the wife he was about to lose, who was leaving them to go back to school, and might never come back, no matter what she said. He knew that nothing would ever be the same again. They both did. “What are you going to tell them?”

The kids waited for them to get out, watching them, and chatting in the cold night air, as Sarah glanced at them, with a stone in her heart. “I don't know yet. Let's get through the holiday first.” Oliver nodded, and opened the door, wiping the tears from his cheeks hurriedly so his children wouldn't see them.

“Hi, Dad. How was dinner?” Benjamin appeared to be in high spirits, and Melissa, all legs and long blond hair, was smiling. She still had her stage makeup on. It had been a dress rehearsal for the play, and she'd loved it.

“It was fun,” Sarah answered quickly for him, smiling brightly. “It's a cute place.” Oliver glanced at her, wondering how she could do it, how she could talk to them at all, how she could pretend, how she could face them. Maybe there were things about her he didn't know, had never known, and maybe didn't want to.

He walked into the house, said good night to the kids, and walked slowly upstairs, feeling old and tired, and disillusioned, and he watched her as she quietly closed their bedroom door and faced him. “I'm sorry, Ollie … I really am.”

“So am I.” He still didn't believe it. Maybe she'd change her mind. Maybe it was change of life. Or a brain tumor. Or a sign of a major depression. Maybe she was crazy, maybe she always had been. But he didn't care what she was. She was his wife and he loved her. He wanted her to stay, to take back the things she had said, to tell him she couldn't leave him for anything … him … not just the children … him … but as she stood watching him with somber eyes, he knew she wouldn't do it. She meant what she had said. She was going back to Harvard. She was leaving them. And as the realization cut through to his heart like a knife, he wondered what he would do without her. He wanted to cry just thinking about it, he wanted to die as he lay in bed that night, next to her, feeling her warmth beside him. But it was as though she was already gone. He lay next to her, aching for her, longing for the years that had flown past, and wanting her more than he ever had, but he rolled slowly on his side, away from her so she wouldn't see him cry, and never touched her.

Chapter 3

The days before Christmas seemed to crawl past, and Oliver almost hated to come home now. He alternated between hating her and loving her more than he ever had before, and trying to think of ways to change her mind. But the decision had been made now. They talked about it constantly, late at night, when the children were in bed, and he saw a brutal stubbornness in Sarah that he had thought she had given up years before. But in her mind, she was fighting for her life now.

She promised that nothing would change, that she would come home every Friday night, that she loved him as she had before, yet they both knew she was kidding herself. She would have papers to write, exams to study for, there was no way she could commute, and coming home to bury herself in her books would only frustrate him and the children. Things had to change when she went back to school. It was inevitable, whether she wanted to face it or not. He tried to convince her to go to a different school, somewhere closer to home, even Columbia would be better than going all the way back to Harvard. But she was determined to go back there. He wondered at times if it was to recapture her youth, to turn the clock back to a simpler time, and yet he liked their life so much better now. And he could never understand how she would be able to leave the children.

They still knew nothing of their mother's plans. The older ones sensed a certain tension in the air, and Melissa asked her more than once if she and Dad had had a fight, but Sarah just brushed them off with a carefree air. She was determined not to spoil Christmas for them, and she knew her announcement was going to upset them. She had decided to tell them the day after Christmas and Ollie agreed because he thought he could still change her mind. They went to Melissa's play and then decorated the Christmas tree in what seemed like perfect harmony, singing carols, making jokes, while Oliver and Benjamin struggled with the lights, and Sam ate the popcorn faster than Melissa and Sarah could string it. Watching them, Oliver felt as though his heart would break. She couldn't do this to them, it wasn't fair, and how was he going to take care of them? And no matter how dear she was, Agnes was only hired help after all. And he worked in New York all day long. He had visions of Benjamin and Melissa running wild and Sam going into a decline, while their mother played graduate student at Harvard.