she worked for. Good thing Mindy wasn’t here to hear this; it might hurt her. Nevermind that he kept her and the family in comfort and luxury, I’ll bet she respects that, too. She’s had plenty of years of non-work. What does she do all day?
“The reason I asked that is because this photograph alone would probably give you an easy divorce.”
“I don’t want a divorce. I want my husband back. I want my life…” her voice trailed off.
I stayed respectfully silent. It was difficult for her to speak. I could wait. I’ve waited a long time.
“I want my life back,” she said again. She took a breath, and said, “We have children…”
“I’ve met one,” and smiled. “I think she’s quite a little girl; you two have done well. Tell me about the rest.”
“There are four of them,” she said. “Three girls and one boy, and he’s the youngest. Mindy is in college, one child is in high school, one in junior high, and one in grade school.”
“You really did have a family. Congratulations on that.”
She smiled. “Their names are Mindy, Beth, Lucia, and…”
I waited.
“J.R.”
“J.R.? As in Junior?” I asked. ”Now I was the one who was surprised. “I assume all your children are named after relatives?”
She smiled again. “They’re named after people we admire. The girls adore their father, as does J.R. I’m what you call the ‘bad’ parent. I make them mind, behave, do their chores, clean their rooms, do their homework.” She continued, “Franklin is the ‘good’ parent. He buys them gifts, takes them places, lets them do what they want. He adores them as well.”
She reached for her purse again, still on the table, and looked for her pocketbook. She reached it, opened it, and pulled out family photographs, pictures of herself and Franklin and the four children. I looked at them all closely for awhile, and listened as Helen pointed out the children and their names. They were a nice-looking family, almost perfect in appearance, and, somehow, this wound up hurting me. I was looking at a family that could have been mine, except, I’m sure any child I had wouldn’t be as pretty as the ones in the pictures. I was instantly smitten by the children.
“Helen, what the heck is he thinking?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t asked him about this. I just found out recently, and he doesn’t know that I know. I came to you for advice. I needed someone who…”
I waited, again.
“Mama needed someone she could trust.”
I looked up. Mindy had come back. I don’t know how long she’d been there.
I looked back at Helen. “You trust me? When did you decide this?”
Mindy didn’t say anything, because now she knew her Mom didn’t want her to talk. Helen looked a little uncomfortable by my question.
Trustworthy. That’s me. And loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous and kind. A nice guy. A nice guy who finished last.
I broke the silence: “Does anybody else know about this photograph?”
Now Mindy could talk. “Just my boyfriend, me, Mom, and now, you.”
“None of the other children?”
“No,” said Helen. “I don’t want them to know.”
“Now here’s a question that’s suddenly popped up in my mind,” I said, “and I’m not being sarcastic when I ask this. What do you expect me to do?”
“Randall, you were known for reasoning with people in college, making friends with different people in different groups. I don’t know what you can do. I guess I just needed somebody to tell. I need to know what to do.”
Why, you little Delilah. You’re married to this cheater and then you come crawling to me, the guy you threw over, so I can set your life straight for you.
“I’m glad you came to me,” I heard myself say.
Then I heard someone clear his throat. Looking up, I saw the manager of the restaurant, far in the distance. It was getting near to closing time, and he was hinting it’s about time to leave without actually saying it. I got the
“The reason I asked that is because this photograph alone would probably give you an easy divorce.”
“I don’t want a divorce. I want my husband back. I want my life…” her voice trailed off.
I stayed respectfully silent. It was difficult for her to speak. I could wait. I’ve waited a long time.
“I want my life back,” she said again. She took a breath, and said, “We have children…”
“I’ve met one,” and smiled. “I think she’s quite a little girl; you two have done well. Tell me about the rest.”
“There are four of them,” she said. “Three girls and one boy, and he’s the youngest. Mindy is in college, one child is in high school, one in junior high, and one in grade school.”
“You really did have a family. Congratulations on that.”
She smiled. “Their names are Mindy, Beth, Lucia, and…”
I waited.
“J.R.”
“J.R.? As in Junior?” I asked. ”Now I was the one who was surprised. “I assume all your children are named after relatives?”
She smiled again. “They’re named after people we admire. The girls adore their father, as does J.R. I’m what you call the ‘bad’ parent. I make them mind, behave, do their chores, clean their rooms, do their homework.” She continued, “Franklin is the ‘good’ parent. He buys them gifts, takes them places, lets them do what they want. He adores them as well.”
She reached for her purse again, still on the table, and looked for her pocketbook. She reached it, opened it, and pulled out family photographs, pictures of herself and Franklin and the four children. I looked at them all closely for awhile, and listened as Helen pointed out the children and their names. They were a nice-looking family, almost perfect in appearance, and, somehow, this wound up hurting me. I was looking at a family that could have been mine, except, I’m sure any child I had wouldn’t be as pretty as the ones in the pictures. I was instantly smitten by the children.
“Helen, what the heck is he thinking?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t asked him about this. I just found out recently, and he doesn’t know that I know. I came to you for advice. I needed someone who…”
I waited, again.
“Mama needed someone she could trust.”
I looked up. Mindy had come back. I don’t know how long she’d been there.
I looked back at Helen. “You trust me? When did you decide this?”
Mindy didn’t say anything, because now she knew her Mom didn’t want her to talk. Helen looked a little uncomfortable by my question.
Trustworthy. That’s me. And loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous and kind. A nice guy. A nice guy who finished last.
I broke the silence: “Does anybody else know about this photograph?”
Now Mindy could talk. “Just my boyfriend, me, Mom, and now, you.”
“None of the other children?”
“No,” said Helen. “I don’t want them to know.”
“Now here’s a question that’s suddenly popped up in my mind,” I said, “and I’m not being sarcastic when I ask this. What do you expect me to do?”
“Randall, you were known for reasoning with people in college, making friends with different people in different groups. I don’t know what you can do. I guess I just needed somebody to tell. I need to know what to do.”
Why, you little Delilah. You’re married to this cheater and then you come crawling to me, the guy you threw over, so I can set your life straight for you.
“I’m glad you came to me,” I heard myself say.
Then I heard someone clear his throat. Looking up, I saw the manager of the restaurant, far in the distance. It was getting near to closing time, and he was hinting it’s about time to leave without actually saying it. I got the
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