scalp as if she were delousing you—and then dumped a pitcher of water over your head! When I said anything critical, she'd pluck you out of the water and walk away in a huff. Thank goodness you don't remember."
"Did my mother have an opinion about any of this?"
"Your mother's attitude was, we were the amateurs and Nanny was the pro. Nanny. No wonder I don't remember her name. Such an affectation."
Why hadn't he done something? Besides the baths and the attitude, he'd objected to the nursery food, which was steamed, plain, presumably tasteless. Who would ever call plain yogurt "pudding"? Shouldn't a little girl be trying Chinese food, quiche, lasagna, maple syrup on her French toast? Denise—and truthfully he'd recognized this twenty-five years ago—was not the mother he'd want for a baby they might have had together.
Thalia asks if the visits stopped just because she was so miserable on the sleepovers.
"No. They stopped because Glenn Krouch's lawyers didn't think this house was a proper environment for you to be exposed to."
Thalia harrumphs. "Not proper, meaning gay?"
Henry says, "It didn't help that I had a live-in boyfriend at the time."
"Who?"
"Roger. Short-lived, but unfortunately the root of my custody problem."
" He was the root? Or my parents turned him into the root?"
"He was, as it turned out, nothing. And once Krouch adopted you, what was I? The ex-father without any rights."
Thalia says, "It's so sweet that you use the term ex-father without the step "
This is the time then. Henry says, "I haven't been completely honest with you about my tenure as your stepfather. There's more to it than—"
"Wait! Let me guess: When you met my mother, Roger was already in the picture, but there were social and professional pressures on you—how old were you? Thirty?—to find a hostess slash wife and settle down?"
"No. Much more mundane than that. Well, not mundane to me, but in the sense of legal documents—"
Thalia jumps in again. "You and my mother were never legally married! The nanny knew it and that's why she didn't take any orders from you."
"We were legally married. Absolutely. And here's what I'm leading up to: At the end of the wedding ceremony, the judge announced to the guests that it was his privilege to proclaim flower girl Thalia Wales, officially on this day, Thalia Archer."
Thalia, uncharacteristically, looks stumped.
"No one ever told you that I legally adopted you?"
Thalia closes her eyes. "Wait. I have to let this sink in: You. Adopted. Me. This means what in relationship to ... the Many Fathers of Thalia?"
"Nothing cataclysmic. Just that I was legally your father for two years during the marriage, and for another twenty-two months until Glenn Krouch prevailed."
Thalia studies him for a few long seconds. "What's that look? You just curled up in a ball when you told me that."
He shakes his head. "Guilt," he finally says. "Cowardice."
"Even though it was my mother who ran off with another man and took me with her? What were you supposed to do? Show up the next day and take me to the circus?"
Sensing that Thalia is either irreversibly in his corner or immune to startling personal revelations, he confesses all: "I didn't fight in court. I let you go. I signed the adoption papers because it was the easiest thing to do. You saw me less and less, so of course each time was more difficult. I signed those damned papers and I never saw you again." He says, "Okay. Maybe I did. I used to watch you skate at Wollman Rink. From a safe distance. I knew you had lessons on Sunday morning in the fall and winter."
"This is getting a little heartbreaking," says Thalia. "Not to mention cinematic: Youngish man, divorced, loses custody and sneaks over to Central Park to watch his little girl, through binoculars. Cue the Viennese waltzes. Was I always dressed in an adorable skating outfit trimmed in ermine, or was that Judy Garland in Meet Me in Saint Louis? "
Should he laugh? Would Sheri Abrams ask him
"Did my mother have an opinion about any of this?"
"Your mother's attitude was, we were the amateurs and Nanny was the pro. Nanny. No wonder I don't remember her name. Such an affectation."
Why hadn't he done something? Besides the baths and the attitude, he'd objected to the nursery food, which was steamed, plain, presumably tasteless. Who would ever call plain yogurt "pudding"? Shouldn't a little girl be trying Chinese food, quiche, lasagna, maple syrup on her French toast? Denise—and truthfully he'd recognized this twenty-five years ago—was not the mother he'd want for a baby they might have had together.
Thalia asks if the visits stopped just because she was so miserable on the sleepovers.
"No. They stopped because Glenn Krouch's lawyers didn't think this house was a proper environment for you to be exposed to."
Thalia harrumphs. "Not proper, meaning gay?"
Henry says, "It didn't help that I had a live-in boyfriend at the time."
"Who?"
"Roger. Short-lived, but unfortunately the root of my custody problem."
" He was the root? Or my parents turned him into the root?"
"He was, as it turned out, nothing. And once Krouch adopted you, what was I? The ex-father without any rights."
Thalia says, "It's so sweet that you use the term ex-father without the step "
This is the time then. Henry says, "I haven't been completely honest with you about my tenure as your stepfather. There's more to it than—"
"Wait! Let me guess: When you met my mother, Roger was already in the picture, but there were social and professional pressures on you—how old were you? Thirty?—to find a hostess slash wife and settle down?"
"No. Much more mundane than that. Well, not mundane to me, but in the sense of legal documents—"
Thalia jumps in again. "You and my mother were never legally married! The nanny knew it and that's why she didn't take any orders from you."
"We were legally married. Absolutely. And here's what I'm leading up to: At the end of the wedding ceremony, the judge announced to the guests that it was his privilege to proclaim flower girl Thalia Wales, officially on this day, Thalia Archer."
Thalia, uncharacteristically, looks stumped.
"No one ever told you that I legally adopted you?"
Thalia closes her eyes. "Wait. I have to let this sink in: You. Adopted. Me. This means what in relationship to ... the Many Fathers of Thalia?"
"Nothing cataclysmic. Just that I was legally your father for two years during the marriage, and for another twenty-two months until Glenn Krouch prevailed."
Thalia studies him for a few long seconds. "What's that look? You just curled up in a ball when you told me that."
He shakes his head. "Guilt," he finally says. "Cowardice."
"Even though it was my mother who ran off with another man and took me with her? What were you supposed to do? Show up the next day and take me to the circus?"
Sensing that Thalia is either irreversibly in his corner or immune to startling personal revelations, he confesses all: "I didn't fight in court. I let you go. I signed the adoption papers because it was the easiest thing to do. You saw me less and less, so of course each time was more difficult. I signed those damned papers and I never saw you again." He says, "Okay. Maybe I did. I used to watch you skate at Wollman Rink. From a safe distance. I knew you had lessons on Sunday morning in the fall and winter."
"This is getting a little heartbreaking," says Thalia. "Not to mention cinematic: Youngish man, divorced, loses custody and sneaks over to Central Park to watch his little girl, through binoculars. Cue the Viennese waltzes. Was I always dressed in an adorable skating outfit trimmed in ermine, or was that Judy Garland in Meet Me in Saint Louis? "
Should he laugh? Would Sheri Abrams ask him
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