Chapter 16

She was pacing back and forth on the expansive patio of the penthouse waiting for the youngest Pollard to come out and talk to her. She turned when she heard the footsteps.

“There you are, Rebecca,” said her mother.

“Mom? what’s up,” said Becca.

“Rebecca your dad and I have some decisions to make and we, I, need to talk to you at some length about them,” said Claire.

“Momma? Decisions?” said Becca.

“Yes, they have to do with your other dad,” she said. Rebecca Pollard deflated.

“Mister Jimmy” she said.

“Rebecca! He’s not only your biological dad; he also saved your life and mine and your dad’s,” said Claire. “No matter how uncomfortable it might be for you, you need to help me out here, and him, your dad. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t been around, frankly it’s my fault, mine and your dad’s; I mean my husband, your other dad.”

“Mom, you’re confusing me,” she said.

“Yes, I can imagine that that’s so,” she said.

“Okay, mom, so what do you want me to do?” she said.

“The fact is I’m not sure just yet. But there is a possibility that your dad, your bio dad, may need some help and that very soon. He’s lonely and hurting and in a very bad place, and I put him there,” said Claire.

“Is this about that letter that I heard you and dad talking about? About what he overheard us talking about?” said Becca.

“Yes, in part, I suppose it is,” said Claire. “Becca, the man has no one but a couple of friends he used to work with. And one of those friends of his told me he is in a bad way. We, and especially you and I have to help him out if he’ll let us. Can you understand what I’m saying? You’re still young, but not that young. And, you have a driver’s license now, so you can go to him no problem.”

“I get it mom. I wish he hadn’t heard me that day. I was embarrassed when I heard that he’d heard,” she said.

“Yes, well me too,” she said. “Anyway, Becca, I’m going to ask you a big favor and it’s one that I’m pretty sure only you can provide.”

“Mom?” she said.

“I am going to ask you to go to him and make nice to him, coddle him a little. Know what I mean?” she said.

“Me! You’ll be there too, right?” said Becca.

“Not this first time, dear. I’m afraid, if I went, he’d kick me out, and I wouldn’t blame him. But, you’re his child. Yes, a dad to you too just like your real dad,” said Claire Pollard. “What I mean is he’s a real dad too. I know this is confusing, but it’s a true thing too.”

“Mom, I get it, I guess. I guess I could visit him. But I mean, if he doesn’t want you there, you still think that he’ll want me to be there either?” There was hope in the girl’s tone. It was clear to her mother that the girl didn’t want to go even though she would if she had to.

“Yes, your situation is different. I was married to the man. We were in love, and now, well, we’re not, not in the same way, and he’s hurt because of that and because of me,” said Claire. The girl nodded.

“Okay, mom, if I have to go I will. It’s just that I don’t really feel comfortable around him. I mean he was an okay guy when he was here, but we don’t really know each other, and he does act kind of strange sometimes. I mean I do know that I owe him that we all do...” she said.

“Becca, you need to get to know him. I think he needs you to be there for him. It’s all my fault this mess we’re in. But, unfortunately I can’t fix it on my own; he won’t let me. He might even hate me. I don’t really think he does, but he might. I do know that he’s bitter, Becca. He’s bitter and lost and lonely. We women and especially you need to understand that and be willing to help the man, that good and brave man, to get to a place where he can be happy again,” she said. Her daughter noticed that her mom was beginning to cry.

“Momma, don’t cry. I’ll go to him. I’ll go there today if you want: there’s no school today,” said Rebecca Pollard. “But you don’t think he might...”

“Might?” said her mom.

“You know, kick me out or something?” said Becca. Her mom wiped away her tears and looked at her daughter; she smiled.

“No dear. I don’t expect that he will do anything like that. In fact exactly the opposite. He might be a little confused you just showing up, but after he settles down he will be very happy to see you; I’m sure of it,” said Claire. Rebecca nodded.

“Okay mom, I’ll go as soon as I eat something and clean up,” she said.

“Thank you dear, your dad and I are grateful to you. We know it’s kind of a lot to put on a teenager. And Becca, James Clausen, your dad, is a good guy, just a little hurt,” she said.

“Okay mom,” said Rebecca.

The knock on my door was a surprise. I knew it wasn’t Sam or Henry; they were working: it being a Monday afternoon. I went to answer it.

“Rebecca!” I said. I was caught totally off guard.

“Hi dad,” she said.

“I ... I’m surprised, aren’t you supposed to be in school?” I said being totally at a loss as to what else to say. My daughter smirked.

“Yes,” she said, “I can see that you’re surprised. Dad can we talk?”

“Uh—okay, come in,” I said. “I skittered back inside on my wheel board and led her into the small front room of my small and unpretentious one bedroom abode. My computer, one loaned to me by the church, was sitting on the little all-purpose table across from the couch. “Have a seat,” I said, indicating the couch that I rarely sat on. She did.

“Dad, how are you?” she said. She was clearly nervous, but hell, so was I.

“Okay. I’m okay,” I said. “It’s good to see you. But again, aren’t you supposed to be in school today?” I could feel myself getting a little emotional. Seeing her there, even with what I knew she thought of me, made me feel kind of good but emotional.

“It’s good to see you too,” she said. “Yes about school, but I took the day off to come and see you. I was afraid that if I waited for the weekend that you might have something going.” We both fidgeted for a moment or two.

“Dad, I’ve been wanting to come and talk to you,” she said. “I know about the letter you wrote to mom and dad. I know I hurt you, I mean what you overheard me saying to my friend, Jill. It was just stupid talk, daddy, really.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Now, I really was getting emotional. I’m okay now. It’s all good.” She nodded.

“Thanks for that,” she said.

“So, how are your mom and dad?” I said. Now I was at the point of breaking up. That she saw someone else as her dad was killing me, but I was doing my best not to be too obvious about it but likely failing in that goal miserably.

“They’re okay,” said Rebecca. She noticed my state but was trying not to notice it at the same time; I could see that much clearly.

“Well good,” I said.

“Dad, mom would like you to visit us. I mean I know about the letter, like I said, but you need to visit us,” she said.

“It’s hard for me. I don’t have a car,” I said, “and the cab is, well, expensive.” She nodded. She knew I was making excuses but didn’t call me on it.

“Dad, dad, would pick you up; mom told me so. I mean if you need a ride,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said, trying desperately to avoid getting into an argument with my daughter. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him, you know?”

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience,” she said. “I know that for a fact. Mom really wants to be your friend. I mean you guys used to be married and everything. I know that that’s kind of weird, but lots of divorced people remain friends afterwards don’t they?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” I said.

I had to grant that my daughter was doing her best to be not offending me. She was calling both me and the other guy dad; that was a big deal for me. The other guy didn’t deserve to be called her dad, but in practical terms I guess he was. He was paying all of the bills, and he hadn’t known, if they weren’t lying to me, that she was my daughter until she was five or six years old. She was almost seventeen now, I knew, so it was a whole different thing. I also knew that all of them, maybe even including my daughter really would rather have had me out of the picture.

I’d really screwed things up for them saving their lives; but hell, I’d screwed my life up way worse. If I did take Rebecca up on her request, I’d be making that point to my ex-best friend. I might be in the way of their peace and happiness, but they wouldn’t have either of those if I hadn’t fucked myself up for them! I deserved way more than I was getting or had gotten, and I didn’t mean material things.

“Dad?” she said. She could see that I was lost in thought.

“Uh-yes, I was just thinking,” I said. “Rebecca, you coming here today was kind of a shock. I really didn’t think that I’d be seeing any of you again. But...”

“But, you’ll consider visiting us?” she said. I gave her a look that I know spelled suspicion. She was almost a legal adult, not a real one; one had to be at least thirty years-old to be a real adult, but I could see she understood my reticence.

“Dad, mom really wants you to come by, dad too,” she said.

“I don’t know. Can I get back to you on that?” I said. “Maybe, I just don’t know. Your mom and I...”

“Sure I guess,” she said. “At least you didn’t say no.”

“What she hadn’t said, not even once, was that ‘she’ would especially like me to come visit. My ex-wife, yes, but not her specifically, and she was my daughter. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she didn’t consider me as her father, or more accurately, anything more than an accidental sperm donor.

I wondered how much she knew about how the two of them had done me during the time I’d been married to her mother. I guessed that she didn’t know anything. I would, selfishly I suppose, loved to have had her know; but I wouldn’t be telling her; it’s the one thing that I just couldn’t justify doing even to the cheaters who’d pretty much destroyed me.

She’d said, and that quite persuasively, that the woman wanted to have a relationship with me, a friendship of sorts, weird, as Rebecca had noted, but one nevertheless. Could I do it knowing what I knew about how they’d done me? Very iffy. I couldn’t before, but now?

“Okay then. You got time for lunch?” I said. She gave me a look and smiled.

“Okay, dad,” she said. I was sure she felt she was making inroads against my hostility towards my ex-wife and the lot of them generally. It remained to be seen if she were right.

From movies, very often from movies, definitions of emotional or cataclysmic events are gotten. A Perfect Storm is one such example. My Perfect Storm? I got the visit from my daughter, and I was seriously considering accepting the olive branch the Pollards were extending to me. Then, I got a call, it was the very next morning, from my ex-best friend proposing a dinner at their house. And finally, while he was still on the line, I heard her in the background advising him as to how to handle me. Hearing my ex-wife, like that, once again brought home to me just how phony and condescending and shallow their offers of rapprochement were.