Chapter 23
Dirk
Dee’s excited about the ball; asks me if I’ve had a haircut. I haven’t found a hairdresser. But I’ve dragged out the dinner suit, bow tie scrunched in a pocket, and ironed the pin-striped shirt. I slick back my hair and ignore her question.
I’m suspicious Dee wants to pair me up with Bettina. Matt’s agreed to mind the children. I can’t get out of this.
“Good of you to step up, Matt,” I tell him at the door when I go to collect Dee.
“Pizza and ice cream. No complaints,” Matt smiles. Dee is picky about what they eat – no sweet things; no fast food. “How’s the apartment, Dirk?”
“Great. Thank you. Dee and Jamison chose well, and the housekeeper’s just right. Haven’t met her yet, but everything’s in order.”
“Excellent.”
Dee appears in a pale blue dress. She’s beautiful. I can say that. I’m proud of my daughter, proud of her career, proud of the way she juggles work and raising the children. House is a mess, but who cares? I can escape to my place when the noise and chaos gets too much.
“I’m meeting a few of the neighbors,” I say.
“That’s great to hear,” she says. She flicks the back of my head and frowns. “No time for that haircut, Dad?”
“Ah. No.” My hair looks fine from the front. I smooth it back.
“So. Any of them nice, your neighbors?”
“Single, do you mean?”
“Dad! Well, we make no secret of the fact you have our permission to move on. We know how devoted you were to Mom. It’s just..
. You know, at the end, Mom insisted we not stand in your way.
She wanted you to find someone new; to ‘live a full life’ is the way she put it.
You know it’s one of the last things she said to me. ”
There’s silence in the car, Dee’s words resounding.
I know so many of my patients’ children resisted their single parents marrying again.
They feared being supplanted; feared the loss of their inheritance; wanted to preserve the memory of their lost parent and that relationship, as if nothing had changed.
I barely believe my own children can be so generous, so ready to let me move on.
When I park under the venue and turn off the engine, I pull Dee in for a hug. She fiddles with her evening purse and retrieves a tissue for each of us.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love you, Dee? How proud of you I am?” I hold her close in the elevator, my treasured daughter.
Working in the health industry, she stays fit.
My Dee deserves a great night out, and here she is with her miserable old Dad with the too-long hair, not Matt.
It hits me. I should have insisted on minding the children myself and sent them both to this ball; let the two of them have a great night out together, at least for an hour or two.
They could have made it an early night, so Matt’s travel would work out.
“I want to babysit for you and Matt,” I say, before I change my mind.
“Not tonight, you don’t. But okay. Sometime soon. We’d all love that.”
And she hugs me back, just as the elevator doors open and we step out into the biggest event I’ve attended in a long while.
There are ice sculptures and mountains of food, the glint of jewels.
A small orchestra pumps out classy, classical music and two waiters with full drinks trays descend upon us.
Dee takes sparkling water and I take champagne.
I need it. Socializing scares me. It was never easy for me, even with Millie right beside me, even with Dee here now – I was always better at one on one, and even then, the patients did most of the talking – but I know how to be polite.
I scan the room for Bettina and other friends and acquaintances I haven’t seen in years.
Is that a flash of emerald green? For a moment I think I recognise my neighbor, Lucy, in Jill’s gown, the one I spilled coffee on, but the room is surging with gowns of every color, human flowers in a forest of black suits.
There’s a lot of small talk. Old friends exclaim over how beautiful Dee is as a grown up.
They ask her about her husband and children and career.
There are lots of “I remember when” and “looking after your father” comments, and nods of approval, as if I’m a wayward toddler.
Bettina appears at my other side, regal in a silver gown. This is her night.
“Now, how are you, Dirk?” she asks, and leans in close in a whoosh of expensive perfume, her fingers intimate on the inside of my wrist. Did she and Dee set us up? She’s never been my type – admirable, of course, but I was never attracted to her.
“Very well, thank you, Bettina. Magnificent crowd you have here. Excellent initiative. You look ...” – what was the right word? She is a widow. This is all about Raymond, too. “What a wonderful initiative. Stunning.”
“Thank you, Dirk. There’ll be positions on the Board, if you’re interested.”
“Kind of you to think of me. Feel free to send me details.”
And she’s gone, greeting others. I breathe more easily.
“Dad! This is brilliant,” says Dee. “It’s the ‘who’s who’ of the healthcare and fitness industry. There’s Grant, from Built, and Muraya. Awesome! I heard her speak at the CrossFit conference. I’ll introduce you.”
“I’m fine, thanks, Dee. You go mingle. Don’t worry about me.”
I grab another champagne flute and wander towards the food table. I’m halfway there when everything changes.