The two men were happy to see each other, and Chad drove him to the small, neat house Everett had seen when he looked around to see where his son lived. It was warm and cozy inside, although there were toys in the living room, children lying on all the furniture, the television was on, and a pretty blond girl looking pale was reclining on the couch.
“You must be Debbie.” He spoke to her first, and she got up and shook his hand.
“I am. Chad was really happy to see you last night. We've talked about you a lot over the years.” She made it sound as though the comments in the past had been pleasant, although realistically he couldn't imagine that that would have been the case. Any mention of him would have had to be angry, or sad, for Chad anyway.
Everett turned to the children then, amazed by how sweet they were. They were as beautiful as their parents, and didn't seem to fight with each other. His granddaughter looked like an angel, and the two boys were sturdy little cowboys and big for their age. They looked like a poster family for the state of Montana. And while Chad cooked dinner and Debbie lay on the couch again, visibly pregnant, Everett played with the kids. They loved the toys he gave them. Then he showed the boys card tricks, sat Amanda on his lap, and when dinner was ready, he helped Chad dish it up for the kids. Debbie couldn't sit at the table, the sight and smell of the food made her feel too sick, but she joined in the conversation from the couch. Everett had a ball, and hated to leave when it was time for Chad to take him back to the motel. Everett thanked him profusely for a great evening.
When they pulled up in front of the motel, Chad turned to ask him a question. “I don't know how you feel about it … do you want to see Mom? It's okay if you don't. I just thought I'd ask.”
“Does she know I'm here?” Everett asked, looking nervous. “I told her this morning.”
“Does she want to see me?” Everett couldn't imagine that she did after all these years. Her memories couldn't be any better than his, and possibly worse.
“She wasn't sure. I think she's curious. Maybe it would be good for you both, for some kind of closure. She said she always thought she'd see you again and you'd come back. I think she was angry for a long time that you never did. But she got over all that a long time ago. She doesn't talk about you much. She said she could see you tomorrow morning. She's coming into town to see the dentist. She lives thirty miles out of town, past the ranch.”
“Maybe it would be a good idea,” Everett said, thinking. “It might help us both bury old ghosts.” He didn't think about her much either, but now that he'd seen Chad, it didn't seem so uncomfortable to see her, for a few minutes anyway, or whatever they could tolerate. “Why don't you ask her what she thinks? I'll be at the motel all day. I've got nothing much to do.” He had invited Chad and his family out to dinner the following day. Chad said they all loved Chinese and there was a good one in town. And then he was leaving the next day, for one night in L.A., and then off to New York for Melanie's concert.
“I'll tell her to come by if she wants.”
“Whatever works for her,” Everett said, trying to sound casual, but still feeling somewhat strained at the idea of seeing Susan again. After she left, he could go to a meeting, just as he had that day, in the afternoon before he saw Chad and the kids. He was religious about his meetings, wherever he was. There were plenty to choose from in L.A., though fewer here.
Chad said he'd relay the message and pick his father up for dinner the following night. And Everett reported on the evening to Maggie. He told her what a good time he'd had, how beautiful the children were, and well behaved. And for some reason, he didn't tell her about possibly seeing his ex-wife the next day. He hadn't quite absorbed it yet himself, and he was apprehensive about it. Maggie was even more thrilled for him than she'd been the day before.
Susan showed up at the motel at ten o'clock the next morning, just as Everett was finishing a Danish and coffee. She knocked on the door of his room, and when he opened it, they stood staring at each other for a long moment. There were two chairs in the room, and he invited her in. She looked both different and the same. She was a tall woman, and she had gotten heavy, but her face was the same. Her eyes explored his and looked him over. Seeing her was like examining a piece of his own history, a place and person he remembered, but no longer felt anything for. He couldn't remember loving her, and wondered if he had. They had both been so young, confused, and angry at the situation they were in. They sat in the room's two chairs, looking at each other, struggling for words. He had the same feeling he had then, of having absolutely nothing in common with her, a fact that, in his youthful lust and enthusiasm, he had failed to notice when they started dating, and she got pregnant. And then he remembered how trapped he had felt, how desperate, how bleak the future had looked to him when her father had insisted they get married, and Everett had agreed to what felt like a life sentence. The years had stretched ahead like a long lonely road, whenever he thought about it, and had filled him with despair then. He felt breathless again just remembering it, and recalled perfectly all the reasons why he had run away and began drinking heavily before that. An eternity with her had felt like suicide to him. He was sure she was a good person, but she had never been the right one for him. He had to fight to bring his mind back to the present, and for a fraction of a second he wanted a drink, and then remembered where he was, and that he was free. She couldn't trap him anymore. Circumstances had trapped him more than she had. They were both victims of their own destinies, and he hadn't wanted to share his with her. He had never been able to adjust to the idea of being with her forever, even for the sake of their son.
“Chad's a great kid,” he complimented her, and she nodded, with a small wintry smile. She didn't look like a happy person, nor miserable either. She was very bland. “And so are his children. You must be very proud of him. You did a great job with him, Susan. No thanks to me. I'm sorry about all those years.” It was his chance to make amends to her too, no matter how unhappy their time together had been. He realized even more acutely now what a lousy husband and father he had been then. He was just a kid himself.
“It's okay,” she said vaguely, while he thought that she looked older than her years. Her life in Montana hadn't been easy, nor was his on his travels. But it was more interesting than hers. She was so different than Maggie, who was so full of life. There was something about Susan that made him feel dead inside, even now. It was hard for him to even remember when she was pretty and young. “He was always a good boy. I thought he should have stayed in college, but he'd rather be outdoors on a horse than doing anything else.” She shrugged. “I guess he's happy where he is.” As Everett looked at her, he saw love in her eyes. She loved their son. He was grateful for that.
“He seems to be.” It was a father-mother discussion that seemed odd between them. It was probably the first and last they'd ever have. He hoped she was happy, although she didn't look like a cheerful, extroverted person. Her face was solemn and devoid of emotion. But this meeting wasn't easy for her either. She looked content as she looked at Everett, as though their meeting put something to rest for her too. They were so totally different, they would have been miserable if they'd stayed together. And as their visit ended, they both knew things had happened as they should.
She only stayed a short time, and he apologized to her again. And then she left for the dentist, and he went for a walk, and then to his AA meeting. He shared about seeing her and how it had reminded him of how desperate he had felt and how unhappy and trapped he felt when he was married to her. He felt as though he had finally closed the door on the past and double-locked it. She was all the reminder he needed of why he had left. A lifetime with her would have killed him, but he was grateful now to have Chad and his grandchildren. So in the end, she had shared something good with him. It had all happened for a reason, and now he could see what that was. He couldn't have known then that thirty years later it would all make sense, and Chad and his children would become the only family he had. She had actually brought something good into his life, and he was grateful to her for that.