Four Years
After four years it was amazing that Liz and I were still finding ways to care. The day was supposed to be about us, but my father had called this morning. That was a four year anniversary too. He didn't say he was sorry, and neither did I. So there she sat in the burgundy robe I'd bought her in Baltimore on a business trip, chewing gingerly on a dark chocolate. What's in this one, she asks laughing. I look between the nibbles and tell her it's marzipan. What's that she asks. It's like caramel for white people. She laughs again. On the kitchen counter a bottle of cheap Champagne waits for the evening after dinner. As does the leather couch in the living room where her vinyl collection hides. Every year we share a bottle and listen to the music that brought us together. Al Green, Junior Walker, and when we're really feeling nostalgic and good Otis Redding. Nothing sounds as good on Valentines day as Otis Redding, and we both know it. You haven't even looked at yours yet she says and flashes an honest smile. I concede and she hands me a parcel that crinkles when I touch it. I tear it off without really looking and for a moment it doesn't hit me. It's a photo like many others in the house. We're together as always, but my father is in this one. Before I can even ask she tells me straight. I called him she says. Why I ask, why'd you even bother? For you she says, I did it for you. We embrace, and this time I apologize.
The last person I want to see on Valentines day is joining us for dinner. A romantic dinner of all things. The kind of dinner you have with a good wine and veal. But he's alone I tell myself, he's all alone. So we spend the day together to make it worth the effort. We take a walk and smoke a cigarette even though we both quit. We hold hands and it feels good in the cold. She's wearing a beige sweater and designer jeans with boots and is clearly the better looking of the two of us. Why'd it have to be tonight I ask her. Any other time in the past four years would've seemed ideal. She pauses for a moment and adjusts her hair. It just turned out that way alright? He wants to make things right and I thought you'd be happy. I know it kills you to not be speaking with him. Don't you remember what he said before we got married I ask her. It's not right to mix. That's what he said. Colin, she stops walking, don't bring it up. That's the truth though I tell her. That's the way he thinks still. People change sometimes babe she half whispers and puts her arms around my neck. Why tonight I say again. Why the hell does it have to be tonight?
When I was in elementary school all the kids had to bring valentines for the class. This was meant to bring an equilibrium to the market of chalky hearts and fun sized candy bars. Of course being kids we did our best to show a prejudice with such forced tolerance bestowed upon us. Thus the popular kids would receive the best cards and largest bounties of sugar, while the bottom feeders such as myself had to live on recycled care bear stationary and pixie sticks. When I came home from school to show my father the bounty I received he would act impressed and good natured about the whole deal. That's the strongest memory I have tied to the holiday from a family aspect, and the more I thought about it the guiltier I felt about the falling out with my father.
The restaurant was new for us and I had made the reservation almost a week beforehand. It was a latin-fusion kind of thing that had textured purple wall paper and an open area where you could see the chefs frying up bananas. Liz looked gorgeous and I told her so repeatedly until my anxiety became quite obvious. She held my hand as we walked in even though I was sweating. I liked that I thought. That's how you know someones worth keeping. Before I had even checked with the hostess I saw him. In a herring bone blazer and charcoal slacks. He looked a bit worn down, his face frazzled with a short white beard and his hair was longer than usual. He smelled like cigarettes and I didn't recognize him, not like this. Colin he half gargled and extended a hand. I shook it and we shared a hard stare. Hi Dad. Then he reached out to Liz and kissed her hand. She was speechless. This was the same guy who didn't come to our wedding. They'd never even had a proper conversation before, let alone anything that would justify this sort of ritual. You look beautiful he growls.
We sit down and there's a bosanova track playing that normally would seem appealing but only heightens my sense of confusion. He seems relaxed. Sipping readily at his cocktail and and crossing his legs. I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other he begins. He pauses and takes a seeded roll from the basket, cracking it loudly and tearing a piece with canine like dexterity. But I'm glad you agreed to come here tonight. I tell him I'm glad too. You can thank this little lady he says and gestures towards Liz. I thought it was important for all of us to talk she tells him and assuringly pats my knee beneath the table. He nods and breathes loudly while slicking his glossy silver hair back with giant hands. I start on my wine almost immediately, I'd normally wait for the entree but the situation is too much to handle without a small haze. We talk about my job for a bit and the class Liz is teaching at the university. What's the title he asks her. Social Deviance. So then he continues, any delinquents in your course? You know rapscallions and such. She politely laughs and tells him no, she tells them that they're good kids.
The meal comes after the tapas and several attempts at common conversation that fail miserably. I try the chicken adobo while Liz gets a tuna dish that looks great. My Dad gets the pork chop. So we eat in silence for a few minutes before my wife steps on my foot and motions towards my Dad with her eyes. Talk to him her pupils scream. So Dad I start. I gotta ask, why now? What, he says. Why the whole reconciliation thing, why today? It's a holiday you know? He finishes chewing and looks upward in some kind of deep thought. He clears his throat a few times and adjusts himself in the white pleather chair. Well, he starts, I thought that maybe...maybe it was time. Really? I ask. He puts down the fork and dabs his face with the indigo napkin. Colin, you're my only son. You're my only kid for Chrissake. You wanna marry a black I don't hold any grudges against you okay? Liz starts coughing and breaths into her fist. I pat her on the back and push a glass of water. You okay my Dad says smiling through wrinkles. You alright? I can see the anger flash behind her eye makeup and she waves a hand back. I'm fine she says hoarsely, I'm fine. Really, my Dad continues. Liz I want you to know you're like a daughter to me now. That's very kind of you she says seething. She excuses herself and runs to the ladies room where the two of us are left glaring at each other.
What? He looks at me. What!? I tell him to keep his voice down. There's a million things I'd like to say to him. Hell I'd like to punch him in the teeth but there's no point. He's too old and lonely to change now. I wouldn't even know where to begin. Liz comes back and sits down in full restraint. I'm amazed she's still willing to put up with this. Hey Liz my Dad goes on again, genuinely trying to interest her. How do you like this Beyonce character? Do you like that kind of music, I hear that's real big right now? She doesn't even smile this time. Yeah she says, do you? You know he says, I think I'm beginning to come around he tells her. Then he grabs both of us by the wrists and pins them to the table. I'm just happy we could all be together today he says. Yeah Dad I tell him, happy Valentines Day.