Danielle Steel - Answered prayers

“I think he'll complain. But the truth is, we hardly see each other. We barely speak. He comes in, eats dinner, goes to bed. And a couple of days a week he goes on business trips. He wants a lot less attention from me than he thinks,” she said practically. She had it all worked out in her head.

“And what about you?” Brad asked pointedly. “What do you want from him, Fred?” It was the kind of question Jack used to ask her, and that she seldom asked herself. Faith was a woman who made few demands, and admitted to few needs. She had taken care of herself emotionally for a long time, just as she had as a child, with the exception of Jack's support.

“I don't need much,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes and looking down at her hands. “I have everything I want,” she said, glancing back up at him.

“I didn't mean materially, I mean what do you need from him to make your life work?” It was a question he had recently asked himself.

“My life works the way it is. Besides, Alex isn't someone who's open to meeting other people's needs.” He was shut down, and had always been. It was something she had accepted about him for a long time.

“How nice for him, if he can get away with it. Who's there for you, Fred?” The question was blunt and to the point, as Faith shrugged. For a variety of reasons, she had isolated herself in recent years. She had needed time to grieve Jack's death. And she had focused all her emotional energies on the girls in their last years at home. Alex hadn't enjoyed socializing with her much in recent years. He was consumed by his work. And particularly since Jack's death, she had drifted away from her friends. She had become very solitary, which made her all the more grateful for Brad's friendship now. It was easier to let him in because he was part of her childhood and had been so close to Jack. In some ways, she had not yet recovered from her brother's death.

“All I really need are my kids. They're always there for me.” She had reduced her needs to that, and it was all that mattered now.

“Really? It doesn't sound like Ellie's on that team, if she's going to Saint Moritz over the holidays. She's meeting her own needs, although that's standard behavior for one's kids.” He was blunt about what he saw, and it bothered him that Eloise was so kind to her father, and so hard on Faith.

“She's young,” Faith said rapidly, willing to make excuses for her, as she was for everyone else, and always had been. Where others around her were critical, Faith always made an affort to excuse and forgive. She was generous to a fault.

“The truth is that most of the time anyway, our kids aren't there for us. It's not their job to be. They're too busy putting together their own lives,” Brad said philosophically. “But it kind of makes you wonder sometimes who's there for us, if anyone. It's great if you have a big family, brothers and sisters, a supportive spouse. But if not, who does that leave? It's not a trick question, by the way. I don't know the answer to it myself. I was thinking about it on the plane on the way here. Pam is so busy with her own life, and her own concerns, I'm not sure if I needed her, she'd be there. That's a hell of a realization to make. I had to go to the hospital for a checkup recently, just ordinary stuff, but they asked for the name of who to call in an emergency. I put down my secretary's name after I thought about it. Because I figured if they called Pam, she wouldn't take the call. It was kind of a wake-up call for me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, as they set down a big juicy steak in front of him, and grilled sole in front of Faith.

“Absolutely nothing,” he said honestly. “But occasionally, it does me good to face reality. I used to have a lot of illusions about what marriage should be. And the truth is, it never was. Not ours in any case, and not my parents'. They hated each other for years until they got divorced. They did a lot of ugly stuff to each other when they did, and they hardly talked for years afterward. I never wanted to have a marriage like that, and I don't. Pam and I don't hate each other, thank God, I'm not sure what we feel for each other anymore, if anything. We're friends, I guess, or something like that. Or maybe just strangers who live at the same address.” It was a painful admission to make, but he had resigned himself to it years before, just as Faith had made her peace with the way Alex treated her, and how little he involved himself in her daily life. But she hoped that he would be there for her if she ever got sick. But failing that, he offered very little in terms of daily involvement and support. He was more interested in his own life, and had been for a long time. She couldn't even remember when it had gotten that way, or how different it had been before. Probably not much. She had just been busy with the girls, and hadn't had time to observe how absent he was. Even when his body was there, his heart and mind were not.

“You know,” Faith said thoughtfully, “it's more of a statement about us than about them. Their needs are being met, or they are living out their fantasies about marriage, or their histories. Neither of them seems to need much from us, or wants to be particularly involved. We see it differently, and want more, I guess, but we're willing to accept the little they mete out. What do you suppose that says about us?”

“I used to think it made me a good guy. Lately, I'm not so sure. I think it's more about cowardice and maintaining the status quo than about much else. I don't want to make waves. I don't want to fight with her. I never want a divorce. I want to finish my life the way I started it, on the same path, with the same house, the same wife, the same job I have now. I think I hate change, because of the way I grew up. My parents were constantly threatening each other, one was always about to move out. I grew up worrying about what was going to happen, and then finally it did. I don't want to live like that now. I don't want any surprises like that.”

“Neither do I,” Faith said with a comfortable sigh. It was nice talking about it with him. She used to do it with Jack, but there had been no one to fill that role since he died.

“We pay a high price for it though,” Brad commented as he finished his steak, and set his knife and fork down on his plate. Faith had only eaten half of her fish, but she had a small appetite, which was reflected by her tiny figure. “You sacrifice a lot when you compromise, especially when you're willing to let someone else set the terms. I guess I must figure it's worth it, or I wouldn't do it. The price of peace.” He was remarkably honest, and she admired him for it. He knew what he had given up, and he seemed comfortable with it. In its own way, his was not unlike her life. Except Alex was a little more dictatorial with her than Pam was with Brad. They seemed to have solved it by going their separate ways. She and Alex still shared a life, at least most of the time, even if they didn't communicate much, or share their thoughts. She hadn't confided in him in years.

“It's lonely sometimes,” Faith said softly, as though afraid to say the words. It was something she seldom even admitted to herself, but felt safe saying to him now. She felt safe with him, and always had.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, and took her hand in his again. It was wonderful being with her. “Do you miss Jack as much as I do, Fred?” he asked after a long moment, and she nodded and looked into his eyes, hers were brimming with tears.

“Yes, I do, especially at this time of year. I don't know why. I miss him all the time. Christmas shouldn't be different from any other time, but somehow it is.”

“I don't miss Debbie though,” Brad commented honestly, and Faith laughed.