(c) 2012
BACKGROUND: Hugh Davidson is a 57-year-old executive in the powerful Hunt bank chain headquartered in Jacksonville. Married for 36 years to educational materials executive Mary, he was stunned by the loss of his wife to a 45-year-old Chicago education official in mid-2007, followed her quickie divorce and move to Chicago to be with her new man. Six months later as Christmas approaches, he's tried but hasn't been too successful in finding someone to replace her in his life. And Mary, to all intents and purposes, has vanished from the face of the earth. PERSONAL NOTE: my continued thanks go to my editor 'curiouss' for both editing and insight.
CHAPTER FIVE
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
At Christmas of 2007, I split my time between Peter and Nicole. LA and New York are big cities, major metropolises, but outside of the definition, I don't think you could find two places on earth more alien to each other. It was invigorating -- or at least it had been -- visiting both cities in the course of December in past years.
New York was often snow, frigid winds, surly cabbies and plays; LA a few days later was 70 degree/shirt sleeve weather, hookers in hot-pants on side streets, and the latest movie premieres. We usually managed to stroll down Venice Beach and enjoy the boardwalk, the musclemen and the roller bladers.
I thought about that while I sat in Nicole and Simon's den in their 23rd floor condo holding little Calabria. Despite the name, she was as beautiful a baby as ever breathed on earth, or the most beautiful little girl baby. Naturally I was prejudiced. Austin had been the most beautiful baby boy and now he was the most intelligent and beautiful toddler on earth.
Actually, at this point, Calabria was also a toddler. She wriggled until I let her down and she staggered toward her father Simon's waiting arms. He grabbed her bottom, made a face and said to Nicole, "I think she needs changing, dear. Don't you want to demonstrate the superior connection between mother and daughter?"
She just laughed and said, "No dear. I wouldn't think of interfering with the father/daughter bond. You go have fun."
He made a face, but kissed his daughter and swept her up and out to the bedroom. My brown-haired daughter, who looked so much like her mother that it hurt to look at her hunched forward on the couch, put her hand over mine.
"You're losing weight, Dad, and you look - tired. How are you doing?
I know we talk, but you can't tell anything over the phone. You could be dying, yet you'd be cheerful and telling me funny stories about the bank and you'd never let me know what was really going on."
"I'm okay, Nicole."
"You know exactly how little that tells me. How are you really? I, why don't I think you've ever gotten over - mom?"
I freed my hand from hers and held both mine up in a surrender gesture.
"What's there to get over, baby? She's gone, that's the reality of it. 'Getting over it' doesn't change it. Whether I do or not, she's still gone. She's always going to be gone, and life goes on. It has to. I want to see little Calabria driving you and Simon crazy when she drags home some scuzzy-looking boyfriend covered with tattoos and piercings."
She gave me a sad, half smile.
"I know it's coming, Dad. I shouldn't tell you this."
"What?"
"I promised Mom...."
I couldn't help myself.
"Is she alright? She's not...sick?"
"Not physically."
"What do you mean?"
"She made me promise."
I just looked at her. I'd been around long enough, I'd dealt with enough people who didn't want to talk, who were afraid of the news I was bringing, who didn't want me to know how badly they had screwed up, to know what to say.
"Nicole, you brought it up. You want to tell me. Whatever it is, you must think it would be for the best for your mother for me to know it. Is your promise more important than your mother's welfare? Whatever it is, you know I wouldn't hurt her. Even now, I would never hurt her."
She sniffed and I saw the first tear trickle down her cheek.
"She told me, months ago. Maybe - maybe I should have told you, but she made me promise. She seemed - it was so important to her, that you not know."
I just sat and looked at her.
"She left him. Two months - two months after she left you and moved to Chicago to be with him. It was less, less than a month after the divorce papers came through."
"Him - Kelly? Richard Kelly? She left him?"
She licked her lips, which were wet with her tears.
"She said, she said - they just realized - it was over. He went back to his wife, and she...."
It sank in on me.
"...and she didn't come back to me. She never even thought about it, did she?"
She wouldn't look at me.
"You can tell me, baby. I'm a big boy, and the truth....the truth is always better. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. No matter how hard, it's better than lies."
She finally looked into my eyes.
"She said, she said she never wanted to see you again - she wanted to make a new life away from you. She said you would never check up on her, you might never know, and she didn't want - didn't want..."
She buried her face in her hands.
I sat beside her and held her.
"She said, she didn't want you to know because, you'd try to get her back. She said you'd never stopped loving her and she didn't want to hurt you again. She just - she just, didn't want to ever see you again."