Chapter 11
FATHER AND SON
By the time Erica left, I was lost in confusion.
I had hoped she would come to comfort me, but it felt more like she’d arrived with an agenda.
I understood her point, though. She was right to speak her mind.
I did the same thing to her during the end of her first marriage.
Sometimes best friends aren’t there to cheer you up, they’re there to prop you up.
Still, Erica didn’t understand my particular situation, and she didn’t understand Rory either.
Regrettably, I’d told her over the years all the bad things about Rory, and we’d made fun of him.
I’d fueled her opinions of him. But I hadn’t told her enough about the good parts of him. Now, I wished I had.
When Jasper finally arrived, as Philippe barked at the door, I tried to wipe the sadness from my eyes.
I’d already showered and changed and applied plenty of makeup.
Still, there was no amount of makeup that could cover up the pain.
The moment I wrapped my arms around my son, I knew we were forming an even stronger bond.
No matter what happened going forward, whether we stayed or left, it was now and forever Jasper and Mom against the world.
Jasper stood in the foyer looking at me through his thick-framed glasses.
Though he had grown up so much, it was hard for me not to see the young boy who used to beg to visit the playground.
He wasn’t that boy anymore, though. In only a couple of years, he’d be living on his own.
As always, he dressed well and very much looked like a budding musician with his shaggy hair, brown corduroy pants, and green cardigan.
He happily embraced the eccentric side of being an artist.
I hugged him again, feeling unending love for this boy who had grown up to be so wonderful despite the genetic poison Rory had brought to the equation. “You know we’re going to be all right, don’t you? It’s just a bump in the road.”
“Stop it, Mom.” He deflected my protective instincts and turned his love toward me. He looked at me and held my face in his hands. “You don’t need to protect me.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Tell me. How are you?”
I scrunched my brow in shock. “How am I? How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you than anything else.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you’re home, honey.” I refused to cry in front of him and tensed my muscles to suppress the sadness.
We searched each other’s eyes for answers.
In the kitchen, while I prepared him a veggie sandwich, we talked about his time in Texas. After putting extra care into his sandwich, I placed the plate in front of him, and he ate hungrily.
In between bites, he asked, “Where is he?” Obviously referring to his dad.
I stood on the other end of the island, resting my hands on the granite. “At his office trying to figure out his next moves. He’s coming home soon to talk to you.”
Jasper set down his sandwich. “I don’t want to see him.”
“I know.” I nodded. “But the three of us need to talk. I know it’s not fair, but with all this press around, we need to meet as a family and figure out what to do. We can’t hide in this house forever. We have people who care about us. We all need to talk.”
He returned to his sandwich. I sat on the stool next to him. At least we were together.
“Do your friends know?” I asked.
He looked at me, smiled sadly, and took a bite.
“Dumb question, I know.”
Halfway covering his mouth, he replied, “There may be people at the North Pole who don’t know yet.”
I shook my head. “Nah, I doubt it. I can almost hear Santa’s elves gossiping about us now. I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”
He flashed his teeth. “Then the worst is over, I guess.”
There we were, connecting. Uniting. Us against the world. Forever bound.
“Did you know about them?” he asked.
“What? Did I know they were having an affair?” To his nod, I answered, “Absolutely not. I don’t even know if this was an affair. I haven’t talked to him about it yet. Might have been a one-time thing.”
He finished chewing and asked, “Are you going to leave him?”
My eyebrows rose to my hairline. “I don’t know.”
He nodded slowly, and I didn’t know if my son approved of my answer.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
He turned to me. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. I mean, considering. I’m glad I have you.”
“Mom, you’re not happy. You’ve been a wreck all year. Are you kidding me? I can’t believe you guys have made it this long.”
“You knew?” I asked. Why did I never give him enough credit?
“I’m a teenager, not a child. I live here too. You can’t hide things. You’ve spent this whole year trying to be someone you’re not. I know you’re frustrated with him. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s a workaholic.”
I couldn’t believe he knew how bad things had been, despite how hard I’d tried to hide it from him.
I said, “I tried to protect you.” Jasper always understood things few other teenagers did.
He always spoke like he was twenty years older than he was.
“How are you so much more grown-up than other boys your age?”
“You know how you feel ignored sometimes?” he asked. “Me, too. Not by you. You’re an amazing mom. But Dad…he’s checked out for sure.”
“He’s certainly been sacrificing,” I admitted.
“Sacrificing our family.”
I found Jasper’s eyes, reminding myself to treat him like a man. “Do you think I should leave him?”
“I can’t answer that for you, Mom. I hate him and I’d like to kill him, but no matter what, I will stand by you. It’s not about me. I don’t have to live with him the rest of my life.”
I put my hand on his back. “You’re so good to me, honey.”
“You’re my mom. I’ll always stand by you. If you want to leave him, great. If you want to stay, we’ll figure it out. I might never speak to him again, but…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll respect your decision, and I’ll try to get over it. The question is, how can I help you deal?”
At that moment, the side door opened, and we both froze.
You live with someone long enough, and you know when it’s his energy entering the space.
There’s no possibility of it being anyone else.
Rory walked through the hallway and entered the kitchen.
He looked as bad as I did. In fact, all the politician had been exorcised out of him, and he looked like a deflated balloon.
Even in his darkest moments the past few years, he could hide his struggles behind that million-dollar smile.
Not today. At that moment, his smile couldn’t have been more out of reach.
His act of betrayal, being caught and exposed, the public shame and embarrassment of it all, had robbed Rory of his cruise-control existence.
How was it possible that I hated what Rory had done—nearly hated him for having done it—but, at the same time, had this sort of empathy for him?
Jasper didn’t turn toward him. He stared at the empty plate with only a few breadcrumbs left.
He shook his head. A big part of me felt tremendous pride.
Our son had drawn a line in the sand and taken my side.
I had feared he might blame me for driving his father away.
Or both of us at the same time. I was afraid he might run away.
Kids can do crazy things when they’re in pain.
Not Jasper. He wasn’t a kid, anyway. Not really.
“There are no words,” Rory said.
Jasper groaned. Didn’t look up. Still sitting next to Jasper, I bounced my eyes back and forth between them. Before Jasper returned home, I thought it might be easy enough to forgive and forget, but I hadn’t realized how angry Jasper was. My son was intent on protecting me.
Rory cleared his throat. “Can we talk, Jasper?”
Jasper chose silence.
“I’m going to talk,” Rory said. “You don’t have to say a word. I know I don’t deserve for you to listen. I don’t even deserve to be here. But I will say my piece. Then I’ll get out of your way.”
With his hands at his sides, Rory began a long apology I interpreted as heartfelt.
My husband was broken. He was sad. After his attempt at some sort of explanation—how he’d been drowning in work and life—he pleaded, “Don’t give up on me.
” He instantly broke into a cry and could barely speak for a while.
Ending his plea, he said, “Please don’t give up on me, family.
You’re all I have. Let me make this right. ”
“Rory, these are not decisions that can be made right now,” I said.
My husband raised his hand, that familiar gesture I knew so well. “I know that. I don’t expect decisions to be made right now. You can take as long as you want. I’m not going anywhere. I just want to know what I can do for you. How can I help you both get through this?”
“Oh, c’mon, Rory,” Jasper said with contempt. “Don’t pretend to care now.”
“Please don’t call me Rory.”
“Would douchebag be more appropriate?”
Though I didn’t disagree with the nomenclature, I intervened with, “Jasper, don’t stoop to his level.”
A few long beats of silence stung the air, all of us staring away.
Rory ran a hand through his hair. “That’s fair.
It’s all fair.” He sighed. “I would never need to pretend to care. You two are my everything. Jasper, things become complicated when you grow older. You can lose your way. I lost mine. We can get through this. We will look back one day and know that we stuck together. I can find help. I can leave the office. I can go back to being a lawyer. I will focus on family, nothing else. Enough of this “climb to the top” mentality. It’s hell to pay, but if we can find any good out of what’s happened, this whole public debacle, it’s that I clearly see how awful I’ve been.
I’ll never slip back to that man again. What do you say, Jasper?
Can we at least try to work through this thing? ”
Jasper slid his plate away and pushed away from the island. He walked up to his dad, stopping a foot from him. Jasper was much shorter. They locked eyes, and I had no idea what would happen next. Had Jasper already forgiven him? Maybe he was young and strong enough that he could move past it.
Jasper finally said to his father, “You’re dead to me.” With that, he turned back and approached me. He offered a faint smile and whispered that he loved me. It was then that his eyes revealed the enormous pain weighing him down.
I caught myself from falling as all the air escaped my lungs.
“Jasper,” I whispered. I opened my arms to him, but he turned away and left the kitchen.
I pointed toward the front door in the other room and said to my husband, “Go. Go.”
As he turned to leave, I fell to my knees and broke into tears.
Never do you think this will happen to you. We were so happy. Our meet-cute in New York, our wedding, our first few years. Your friends go through divorces and your heart breaks for them, but you secretly think: they must not have what we have.
How’d that work out for you, Margot?