End Around

"Shouldn't you be having this conversation with Mom?" Beck asked. "Shouldn't you be telling her not to go crazy? This is some rachet shit, Silvia. You're taking her side and Dad hasn't done anything. Not a damn thing."

"I'm not taking anyone's 'side,'" Silvia shot back.

"Well, that's a problem, too, isn't it?" Beck was getting hot. "You should be taking someone's side, not talking this 'be patient' shit. Patient my ass! She went on a date with some creeper, Silvia. You know damn well he's a creeper. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be hitting on a married woman. And she's a skank for letting him!"

"Hey, let's just take a breath here," I tried to slow it down. They weren't having any of it.

"So you just want what, Beck? You want our parents divorced? Is that what you're talking about?"

"It's not about what I want," Beck said. "It's not about what you want. It's about what Dad wants. Don't forget, Silvia, Dad didn't want any of this. Mom wanted this and it's on her to fix it. I'm telling you this right now, she can have what she wants, but until she gets her head right, she should plan on my relationship with her being about what I want."

"And what would that be?" Silvia asked.

"I want to see her as little as possible and not hear her, at all."

"So you're going to flush your relationship with our mother?"

"I'm not flushing anything, Silvia, and that's your problem. You can't see it. Everything that happened since Dad came home from work last night has been Mom's fault. Every bit of it. She's the one pulling the strings, and if you can't see that, you prolly have the same problem she has."

"Whoa, just slow down, girls. Let's not let this get out of hand," I tried to hug them. Beck let me pull her in, but Silvia turned, grabbed her bag and stalked out the door. I dragged Beck over to the window and we saw Silvia get in her car. The lights came on, then turned off. She got out and started back, then turned around, got back in and drove away.

"God, I'm so pissed at her right now." Beck was fuming. "I'm sorry, Dad, but that was some bullshit."

She lay her head against me and I thought a minute. I sighed. "Yes, it was, but it's not Silvia's bullshit, Beck. It's your mother's. Kids shouldn't be put in this position. I know you're both adult women, but we've had a special family, sweetheart. All our lives have revolved around each other. I'm closer to you girls than any father I know. You have always had a great relationship with your mother. You shouldn't be in the middle of this bullshit, and neither should Silvia. I'm sorry you are."

"Dad, it's not your fault," she said. "You're right; it is Mom's bullshit, but Silvia acting like it's no big deal and you should just be "patient" is some bullshit, too."

"Just don't burn any bridges," I said. "Let me talk to her. I'll try to figure something out. I love you so much, Beck. I don't want you hurt any more than you already are."

She hugged me fiercely. "I trust you, Dad. I'll just wait on you, see what happens. Keep me close, okay?"

"Always," I assured her.

It was time to beard the lion. I couldn't procrastinate, couldn't live in limbo. When I pulled up into the garage, her car was there. I sat for a minute, seeking a calm center, sighed and went in. My stomach felt like I was going to have heartburn, and I went in and got a glass of milk to settle it.

Collins was in her office, and she came out when she heard me. She looked as bad as I probably did. "Hey," I said.

"I'm glad you're okay and you're back." She looked at me intently.

"Collins, I'm a hell of a long way from okay," I told her.

She looked pensive. "I know. I was just meaning safe. You want to talk?"

I nodded. "In here, or in the living room?" she asked.

"Might as well be comfortable," I said.

She nodded, poured herself some juice and I grabbed a box of Wheat Thins.

I followed her into the living room and we sat on the sofa. There was about a foot between us, which was unusual, because she always wanted to snuggle. I guess I was putting off hostile vibes. I was certainly feeling hostile.

"I want to apologize to you, Barnes," she said. "I realize I mismanaged everything, very badly..."

I held up my hand. "Collins, if you feel like 'mismanagement' is the problem here, we're wasting our time."

She looked confused. "I don't understand."

"Let me make it as plain as possible," I said. "There is no possible way that you could 'manage' telling me you are going on a date that would mitigate the fact that you were planning to go on a date. Do you understand that?"

"I understand what you mean, but you don't understand what I mean," she said.

"Okay, you listened to me, so go ahead. Make me understand."

"By 'manage,' I mean that I should have taken the time to explain what I was doing so that the fact that I was doing it would be tolerable to you."

"I'm afraid you'd have to be a fucking wizard to do that," I said. "Have you suddenly discovered you have magic powers?"

She actually smiled. "Not magic, exactly, but almost," she said.

I spread my hands. "You have the floor, Ms. Le Fay."

"I just want you to think about this, Barnes. How old are we?"

"I'm 48, and you're ancient, at 49," I said.

She laughed. "Yes, and I'm feeling every one of those years. Not in a physical way. I think we're both fitter than we've ever been, and I feel like I'm 25, physically. It's mentally, emotionally. Remember when we actually were 25, Barnes?"

"I remember things, yes."

"So do I. I remember feeling vital, alive, like life was full of endless possibilities, like there was nothing we couldn't accomplish. Everything sparkled, we were vibrant, colors were all primary, love was a new discovery every day. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"Think about our lives now," she said. "I know every move. We get up Sunday to start the week. We might go to church, or we might sleep in, make love, spend the day cooking dinner, you might watch football, or we might pick a movie. It's all things we've done a thousand times before."

"Okay, you're right about that."

"Monday, we get up and go to work. We come home and do the same things we've done a thousand times, days blending into weeks, weeks into years, years into decades. I feel like we're just going through the motions."

"I do understand all that," I said. "I think the difference is that I like doing those things we've done a thousand times. I want to do them a thousand more times. That's the reason we keep doing them: because we like them. If we didn't, we'd do other things."

"That's exactly my point," she said. "I like doing the things we do, too. I want to add to that, do new things, bring back some of excitement of being surprised by life. I want to keep growing, explore new areas."

"I see. What made you feel that I didn't want to do new things? Apparently, you feel that we can't do any of that together."

"I do think we could do them together," she said. "I told you I was going on a date, then when I came home, I would tell you all about it, share my experiences with you. You could do that, too, Barnes."

"I think your idea of 'together' and my idea of it are completely different."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Let me be very clear. By 'together,' I mean you and me. The second you introduced someone else, it failed the together test."

She thought for a moment. "How long has it been since you spent time alone with a woman other than me?"

"Well, I'm assuming you mean other than the girls or some other family member. I guess it would be six months. You remember when I went to Kansas City with Amber? We met with the telecommunications people."

She nodded. "I know Amber pretty well. Tell me, Barnes, is there any sexual tension between the two of you?"

"Not that I'm aware of," I said. "I mean, I know she's a woman. She's gorgeous, you know that, but I'm married, ten years older than she is and we don't flirt, if that's what you mean. We have a very good working business relationship. We're friends, and I don't try to be anything else."

"Well, you said it: she's gorgeous. She's single, Barnes. What if you had taken her to dinner, then the two of you had decided to sample the night life, went to a club, danced together. Would that be exciting? Holding all that gorgeous in your arms, wouldn't that be something that got your motor running?"

"It might. That's why I don't do it," I said.

"Why not?" she challenged.

"Because I'm married to you," I told her. "I don't put myself in situations where my 'motor is running' for anyone other than you."

"What if I was okay with it?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I wouldn't be okay with it."

She sighed. "I would be okay with it. Maybe ten years ago I wouldn't have been. I'm more mature now. I would be okay with it, and I feel like you should be okay with me doing the same thing."

"That's the rub," I told her. "I'm not. That's not what I signed up for, Collins. You promised me, I promised you. If you want out, that's fine. Well, it's not fine, but it is what it is. If you're determined, I can't stop you. I only control me."

"I don't want out," she said. "I want to be freer, though. I want to be spontaneous, to see adventures and go on them, but not out."

"Are you going to do this, no matter what I feel about it?"

She sighed again. "I don't know, Barnes. I'm inclined to say yes."

"The fact that you have been thinking like this, that you have it all mapped out in your mind, that you can talk about it so fluently, tells me a great deal," I told her. "You haven't been communicating with me. You've been hiding this from me for a while. What else have you been hiding? Then there's your little stunt Friday night."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I was mad at you for walking out when I wanted to talk about it."

"That's bullshit, Collins. It's a flat lie. You had it planned long before Friday, and you were planning to go before you ever mentioned it to me. Speaking of lies, you also lied to Beck. I guess you're pretty good at it." I was letting my anger and bitterness out.

"I told you I was going to cancel and we could talk." She conveniently dodged the other shit. Fuck this. I'd had enough jawing.

"Okay, you had your chance at 'management,'" I said. "My position hasn't changed. It's not about finding the right way to lay it on me. There's no way to do that right. It's the fact that you did it, that you plan more of it and that you want to do it. That's all that matters. I don't control you, but I do control me. I'll just pack my shit and leave you to it."

"What the fuck, Barnes? That's not what I want," she protested. "I won't do it."

"But you'll want to," I said. "I have zero trust in you right now. You've more or less told me that you think I'm boring, that you need excitement in your life, primary colors, and shit. Even if you never did a thing, I would always know that's how you feel, and there is no way you can convince me you won't resent being stuck in a boring life. We want different things, Collins, so let's move on."

I went to the basement and got luggage, carried it up to the bedroom and started packing. I got what I'd need for a week or so. I could come back and get anything else I wanted later. She trailed along the whole time, telling me she didn't want this, we'd work it out, but I wasn't listening. I put it all in the truck and she tried to go around and get in. Luckily, the door was locked. She was standing in the driveway as I drove away.

It was a depressing sight. I loved her, and it felt as if I was missing about half my heart and soul. I just couldn't see a way forward.

I remembered to stop at the grocery store, this time. That kept me busy and my mind off it for a while. The drive to the lake brought it all back with a vengeance. I put on a podcast, but I had no idea what it was about when I arrived. I carried my stuff in and got it stowed away in a daze. It came to me that I should talk to the girls, but I was mentally and emotionally drained. I just didn't have the energy.

As it turned out, I had to find it anyway. I had sat there for maybe an hour when my phone went off. I looked, and it was Silvia. I had it to do.

"Hi, honey," I said.

"Where are you, Dad?" she asked.

"I'm at the lake," I said. "Where are you?"

"I'm at your house," she said. "Mom called me and asked me to come over." I got a call notification. It was Beck. "Hold on a minute, Beck is calling," I said.

I answered and told her I'd call her back, that I was on the phone with Silvia. She was good with that, so I got Silvia back.

"Hey, I told her I'd call her back. I'm glad you're there with your mother."

"She's pretty messed up, Dad. You should be here with her, not me."

"I'm aware of that," I said. "Silvia, this is a hard conversation. Are you sure you want to have it over the phone?"

She was quiet for a minute. "No, I suppose not. Are you coming back?"

"No, I'm not, honey. I will explain all that when I see you, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, but I guess it is what it is," she said. "Dad, I have to work. I can't be staying here. I'll stay tonight, but I'm very busy at work. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow."

"Your mother works, too," I said. "This isn't on you, Silvia. Do what you need to do. Your mother and I are adults."

She sniffed and I could tell she was very upset. "I'm so sorry, Silvia. I know it's hard for you. I love you. You're my first child, and you'll aways be special to me."

She was choked up when she answered. "I love you too, Dad. Bye."

I collected myself and called Beck. "Hey, sweetheart."

"You okay, Dad?" she asked.

"I will be," I said. "You okay?"

"Same," she said. "I'm guessing you're at the lake?"

"I am. Wanna come out and I'll tell you what happened?"

"Yeah, I've got stuff packed," she said. "All my classes this week are online, but I've got to go to work Wednesday and Thursday. Can I spend the week?"

"You don't have to ask. I'll spend every second I can with you," I told her.

"I know," she said. "I'll be out in an hour or so."

"I'll have dinner waiting," I said.

I was putting it out on the bar when I heard the sliding door on the porch open and the click of Davey's claws as he searched for me. He followed his nose to the food and I had to stop and give him some love. I fed him some fat I'd trimmed off the pork chops, and was washing my hands when Beck hugged me from behind.

I dried my hands and hugged her back. "Smells delicious," she said. "No, Davey!" She grabbed some paper towels and wiped the drool off his mouth. He lay down behind out barstools and we dug in. It was pretty good.

"I guess it didn't go well," she said.

"No, she had all sorts of explanations. It boiled down to she's bored and wants to be a kid again."

"Great." She rolled her eyes.

"Tell me something," I said. "In your role, if you were seeing your mother as a client, what would you say is up with her?"

"I would never see her, or anyone else I have a personal relationship with as a client," she said. "If someone I didn't know came to me with her story, I would say they had depression about seeing herself transition. There is no such thing as a "midlife crisis," you know."

"I didn't know," I said. "I thought it was a thing. I hear about them all the time."

"Yeah, movies and books have made it so popular that everyone thinks it's a real thing," she said. "It isn't a diagnosis. It is a transition period and some people see their mortality, begin to feel they have a limited number of years at their peak and get depressed, start doing stupid shit to keep the illusion that they're immortal."

"Wow! Who knew?" I said. "My baby is so smart."

She smiled up at me. "Yeah, I am, and don't you forget it."

"Do you think she needs to see a therapist?" I asked.

"I do, and I'll tell her, but I'm not getting involved," she said.

"I understand. I wish you weren't as involved as you are. I'm very sorry about that."

"It's not your fault," she said. "I know you feel bad for me. I feel bad for you, too, but we're going to get over it and cope, right?"

"Yes, we don't have any other choice," I said.

Silvia came over Tuesday evening, Beck made potato salad and I grilled burgers. We sat at the table on the porch and ate while we talked.

"Dad, Mom is a mess," Silvia said.

"Yes, well, same," I told her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "She wants you to come home. She promised she was going to forget about all that stuff. She sees the damage she did and she's sorry."

"Yes, I'm sure she is, in a way."

"What do you mean 'in a way?'"

"It's hard to explain, honey, but I'll try."

"I want to hear this, too," Beck said.

"I'm going to need a minute," I said. "You girls want a drink?"

"What you got," Silvia asked.

"I got stuff for Palomas," I said.

"Yum," Beck said. "Me want." Silvia did, too, so I collected my thoughts while I mixed them.

We got comfortable and I was as ready as I was going to be. "Silvia, are you still going out with what's-his-name?"

"Dickweed?" Beck shot off.

Silvia laughed. "No, I figured out he was a dickweed. I kinda have a new guy I met out here a month or so ago. His name isn't dickweed. It's Richard. Oh, my God, Dick!" Both of them laughed hysterically. They were stepping on my groove.

I tried again. "Well, suppose Dick..." They went off again. "Richard, okay? Richard! Suppose Richard told you that you were boring, Silvia. How would you feel about that?"

"Not very good," she said. "I'm not boring."

"No, you aren't, but he feels like you are. What can you say? Can you argue with the way someone feels?"

"I don't know what you mean, exactly," she said.

"Well, Beck, you don't like raisins. Silvia, you don't like coconut. That's how you feel. Will it make you feel any differently if I tell you girls you do like those things?"

"No," Beck said, "and I kinda see your point. Did Mom actually tell you that you're boring, in those words?"

"No. I can't quote her exactly. I remember some of the words. She said a whole bunch of shi... stuff."

"Shit," Beck said.

"We're adults, Dad," Silvia said. "I hate to shock you, but I cuss a little."

"What's your favorite word?" Beck was giggling insanely.

"Prolly fuck," Silvia said.

"Stop it, you two," I admonished them, which sent them into gales of laughter. "She asked me if I remembered what we were like when we were 25. Like you girls' age. She had all these glowing words about how great it was, how exciting our lives were, how everything was new and bright. She said she felt like we were stuck in a rut, doing the same things, over and over, and she wanted the excitement back."

"Do you feel that way, Dad?" Beck asked.

"I guess a little," I said. "I know I'm not 25 anymore. I told her that I liked the things we do or I'd do different things."

"I don't see anything wrong with any of that," Silvia said. "What did she say?"

"She wanted to do different things," I answered. "The problem is, she doesn't want to do different things with me, she wants to do them with other men. She likes being pursued, likes the feeling that men want her, so she's going to date them, and if it works out, have... sex with them."

"Oh, my God," Beck said.

"How am I supposed to deal with that?" I asked them. "Can I tell her she's wrong? She feels the way she feels, and you can't argue with feelings. Is all that excitement and vibrancy she claims is missing going to magically appear?"

"No, it isn't," Beck said.

"Did you suggest things you could do to have that excitement without other people?" Silvia asked.

"Honey, think about it," I said. "Do you really believe this dawned on her Friday, that she suddenly had an epiphany and arranged to go out with some guy all on Friday?"