Emotional Rescue

Amanda returned to her old house, grateful now that it hadn’t sold, so that she need never return to David’s. Like the Evanston house, also still up for grabs, she had strived for a semi-occupied look, despite having boxed up everything she hadn’t given away, which presently filled David’s garage. Although she couldn’t consult the moving company until tomorrow, she expected those one-hundred-and-one boxes to relegate David’s custom-painted, yellow-sparkle convertible to street parking for a month. Her satisfaction—it truly served him right—almost shamed her, almost. This divorce, agreed upon before they had landed at O’Hare, promised ill will aplenty.

[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]

Before the stupid wedding and stupider honeymoon, Amanda and the real estate agent had improvised a living room with a sofa, torch lamp, sisal rung and throw pillows. The girls’ rooms were empty until Amanda found bookcases and cardboard tables that she covered with tablecloths to the floor. Evie’s bedroom displayed pottery, a family Bible, and a velvet-covered chaise lounge found at a garage sale. DeeDee’s room resembled an unused artist’s studio. The high-school art teacher had donated her unframed paintings, sketches for the walls, and an easel.

Evie and DeeDee would breathe sighs of relief, audible or not, when in two days they come home from Bermuda and learned: no more David Tighe. And Amanda foresaw word-balloons coming from Mike and his parents: “Phew!”

The only person she dreaded to tell, and yet desperately needed, was Walter.

Olivia, his real daughter, and Amanda’s childhood friend, had divorced her husband and moved back to Brisbane where she’d attended college. The club scene, O kept telling Amanda, might not rival the states’ in its hey-day. But how could she tell, since that had ended before she was born? In Australia, she drank, “and stuff.” She danced all night, every night, and then hooked up with one bloke more ace than the next.

“Do me a favor,” she phoned and texted. “Stick close to daddy-o. Except for getting and giving people their perfect tax forms, he lives like a hermit.”

Walter had disapproved of Amanda’s marriage. Without any awareness that David resented him, Walter had halted on the phone, his worry coming through inaudibly. She had told Walter about the poetry, art, music, and history David had taught her to appreciate, without ever mentioning David’s age or height or thick white hair, which so reminded her of Walter.   

In the mock-furnished house without a bed, the gas off, and electricity only during the day, Amanda prepared to sleep on the chaise lounge until tomorrow when she’d buy a sleeping bag for herself and the girls. Eventually, she’d need a houseful of stuff, except unlike last time, when guilty Mike wanted to buy her everything and more, Amanda would need to max out her credit cards.

She hadn’t had to scrounge since she was a child and her mother’s sales trips ran long, leaving Amanda without money for food or utility bills—knowing Walter would take care of her.

After much fretting and pacing in the dark, Amanda finally phoned him at midnight.

Walter, who usually called her “honey,” kept saying, “Don’t cry, darling girl. Do you want me to visit you?”

“No. I’ll be okay.” She was trying hard not to snuffle. “I get two weeks off next month when the girls get out of school for the summer.”

“What if I rent a house for the four of us on Lake George?”

“Walter,” she almost sank to her knees but resisted. 

“When you were seven, Olivia and Sterling and I spent a few weeks there. Olivia wanted to invite you. But Sterling and your mother said no.”

“So we’ll go now,” Amanda said, the sadness gone from her voice. “See if you can get reservations, and if you can, let me know our share. Money’s no object.”

“Amanda, darling, I may not know much else, but I know about money. This is my treat.”

“Walter…” she was groping for the proper response.

“Your daughters have probably never heard of me.”

“Oh no,” Amanda said. “I’ve told them. You’re their other grandfather.”

“So, their other grandfather is well overdue to take you all on vacation.”

(Click here to read the next episode.)

Comments

[Manictastic]

She always divorces so quickly and without much struggle. So finally with Walter?

[Kathleen]

Hi Manic, Last time she separated after eight years and didn't divorce for almost ten. This one's fast but bitter. She's still got another to go.

[Rufus]

Can't have too many grandfathers. Unless you have a romantic fixation on one of them.

[Kathleen]

Rufus, I'm taking this as constructive criticism.

[Dan Leo]

All I can say is I'm really looking forward to the next installment...

[Kathleen]

Thanks, Dan. I'm tempted to step on it myself.

[Mimi Lenox]

The grandfather fixation is indeed fascinating. You are a master weaver of characters,Kathleen.

[Kathleen]

Mimi, thanks, but even I'm not trying for a grandfather fixation. Amanda has a more run-of-the-mill Daddy thing. Walter was her stand-in father. This story refers to one I wrote last year, The Vitruvian Man, when Amanda was 11 and Walter was the only one around to take care of her.