conversations, Kaitlin.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she said, and turned and ran to her room.
Chapter Five
Janice called me a day before I was due to leave for Baltimore and an interview with Sue Chopra. I was surprised to hear her voice on the phone—she seldom called except at our agreed-on times.
“Nothing wrong,” Janice said at once. “I just wanted to, you know, wish you luck.”
The kind of luck that would keep me out of town? But that was petty. I said, “Thanks.”
“I mean it. I’ve been thinking this over. And I wanted you to know—yes, Kaitlin’s taking it pretty hard. But she’ll come around. If she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t be so upset.”
“Well—thank you for saying so.”
“That’s not all.” She hesitated. “Ah, Scott, we fucked up pretty badly, didn’t we? Those days in Thailand. It was just too weird. Too strange.”
“I’ve apologized for that.”
“I didn’t call you up for an apology. Do you hear what I’m saying? Maybe it was partly my fault, too.”
“Let’s not play whose fault it was, Janice. But I appreciate you saying so.”
I couldn’t help surveying my apartment as we spoke. It seemed empty already. Under the stale blinds, the windows were white with ice.
“What I want to tell you is that I know you’ve been trying to make it up. Not to me. I’m a lost cause, right? But to Kaitlin.”
I said nothing.
“All the time you spent at Campion-Miller… You know, I was worried when you came back from Thailand, way back when. I didn’t know whether you were going to hang on my doorstep and harass me, whether it would be good for Kaitlin even to see you. But I have to admit, whatever it takes to be a divorced father, you had the right stuff. You brought Kait through all that trauma as if you were walking her through a minefield, taking all the chances yourself.”
This was as intimate a conversation as we had had in years, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
She went on: “It seemed like you were trying to prove something to yourself, prove that you were capable of acting decently, taking responsibility.”
“Not proving it,” I said. “Doing it.”
“Doing it, but punishing yourself, too. Blaming yourself. Which is part of taking responsibility. But past a certain point, Scott, that becomes a problem in itself. Only monks get to lacerate themselves full-time.”
“I’m not a monk, Janice.”
“So don’t act like one. If this job looks like a good choice, take it.
Take
it, Scott. Kait won’t stop loving you just because you can’t see her on a weekly basis. She’s upset now, but she’s capable of understanding.”
It was a long speech. It was also Janice’s best effort to date to grant me absolution, give me full marks for owning up to the disaster I had made of our lives.
And that was good. It was generous. But it was also the sound of a closing door. She was giving me permission to look for a better life, because any lingering suspicion that we could recreate what was once between us was desperately misplaced.
Well, we both knew that. But what the head admits isn’t always what the heart allows.
“I have to say goodbye, Scotty.”
There was a little catch in her voice, almost a hiccup.
“Okay, Janice. Give Whit my best wishes.”
“Call when you find work.”
“Right.”
“Kait still needs to hear from you, whatever she may think. Times like this, you know, the world being what it is…”
“I understand.”
“And be careful on the way to the airport. The roads are slippery since that last big snow.”
I came into the Baltimore airport expecting a hired driver with a name card, but it was Sulamith Chopra herself who met me.
There was no mistaking her, even after all these years. She towered above the crowd. Even her head was tall, a gawky brown peanut topped with black frazzle. She wore balloon-sized khaki pants and a blouse that might once have been white but appeared to have
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she said, and turned and ran to her room.
Chapter Five
Janice called me a day before I was due to leave for Baltimore and an interview with Sue Chopra. I was surprised to hear her voice on the phone—she seldom called except at our agreed-on times.
“Nothing wrong,” Janice said at once. “I just wanted to, you know, wish you luck.”
The kind of luck that would keep me out of town? But that was petty. I said, “Thanks.”
“I mean it. I’ve been thinking this over. And I wanted you to know—yes, Kaitlin’s taking it pretty hard. But she’ll come around. If she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t be so upset.”
“Well—thank you for saying so.”
“That’s not all.” She hesitated. “Ah, Scott, we fucked up pretty badly, didn’t we? Those days in Thailand. It was just too weird. Too strange.”
“I’ve apologized for that.”
“I didn’t call you up for an apology. Do you hear what I’m saying? Maybe it was partly my fault, too.”
“Let’s not play whose fault it was, Janice. But I appreciate you saying so.”
I couldn’t help surveying my apartment as we spoke. It seemed empty already. Under the stale blinds, the windows were white with ice.
“What I want to tell you is that I know you’ve been trying to make it up. Not to me. I’m a lost cause, right? But to Kaitlin.”
I said nothing.
“All the time you spent at Campion-Miller… You know, I was worried when you came back from Thailand, way back when. I didn’t know whether you were going to hang on my doorstep and harass me, whether it would be good for Kaitlin even to see you. But I have to admit, whatever it takes to be a divorced father, you had the right stuff. You brought Kait through all that trauma as if you were walking her through a minefield, taking all the chances yourself.”
This was as intimate a conversation as we had had in years, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
She went on: “It seemed like you were trying to prove something to yourself, prove that you were capable of acting decently, taking responsibility.”
“Not proving it,” I said. “Doing it.”
“Doing it, but punishing yourself, too. Blaming yourself. Which is part of taking responsibility. But past a certain point, Scott, that becomes a problem in itself. Only monks get to lacerate themselves full-time.”
“I’m not a monk, Janice.”
“So don’t act like one. If this job looks like a good choice, take it.
Take
it, Scott. Kait won’t stop loving you just because you can’t see her on a weekly basis. She’s upset now, but she’s capable of understanding.”
It was a long speech. It was also Janice’s best effort to date to grant me absolution, give me full marks for owning up to the disaster I had made of our lives.
And that was good. It was generous. But it was also the sound of a closing door. She was giving me permission to look for a better life, because any lingering suspicion that we could recreate what was once between us was desperately misplaced.
Well, we both knew that. But what the head admits isn’t always what the heart allows.
“I have to say goodbye, Scotty.”
There was a little catch in her voice, almost a hiccup.
“Okay, Janice. Give Whit my best wishes.”
“Call when you find work.”
“Right.”
“Kait still needs to hear from you, whatever she may think. Times like this, you know, the world being what it is…”
“I understand.”
“And be careful on the way to the airport. The roads are slippery since that last big snow.”
I came into the Baltimore airport expecting a hired driver with a name card, but it was Sulamith Chopra herself who met me.
There was no mistaking her, even after all these years. She towered above the crowd. Even her head was tall, a gawky brown peanut topped with black frazzle. She wore balloon-sized khaki pants and a blouse that might once have been white but appeared to have
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