Note: This is set shortly after the events of "His Brother's Keeper".
Audrey Lynne
Watching those old movies
Falling in love so desperately
Honey, I was your hero
And you were my leading lady
Once, it had all been that simple. Once, they'd been happy together. The song on the radio wasn't of his usual taste in music, but he listened anyway.
We had it all,
Just like Bogey and Bacall
Starring in our own late, late show
Sailing away to Key Largo.
"Key Largo". She had loved that movie. They had gone to see it when it was playing at the local theater. Every time it would play, she would want to see it. He hadn't minded indulging her, not after all she put up with simply because she was married to him. Besides, he could see them in a similar situation; it only took a little imagination.
He knew he was no prize for a woman -- he was emotionally reserved, but that had simply been the way he was raised. His father had told him that men never let their feelings show. So he hadn't, and it had never failed to frustrate his wife.
Ex-wife, he reminded himself. It had been years since she'd walked out on him, and there were times he was still trying to make sense of it all. He loved her; he really did. The divorce proceedings had been initiated soon after, and he had wanted to fight it. He wanted to save their marriage. But if she wasn't going to be happy, he couldn't make her stay. Great, Ellison -- marriage, one of the big things in life, and you managed to muck it all up.
Please say you will
Play it again
Because I love you still
And, baby, this can't be the end!
Even after all this time, he felt the same way at the man in the song, but he couldn't be as optimistic. She was gone, and it WAS the end. It had been for a long time. Maybe someday they could be friends, but couldn't think of someday. He kept flashing back to their final fight, and the look on her face when she'd shut the front door behind her. She had looked as though a part of her wanted to stay, but the larger part of her didn't know what else to do but leave.
He thought back to their wedding day, how young and happy they had both been. Where had it gone wrong? What had been the final straw? What had convinced her that she simply couldn't be Mrs. Ellison anymore? He had asked, and she hadn't answered. Evasiveness had always been her standard defense, so it shouldn't have surprised him when she wouldn't tell him her exact reasons for leaving. Just that she was tired, she couldn't take it anymore, she didn't have time for it...
Here's lookin' at you, kid.
Missing all the things we did.
He remembered, before they were married, how they used to walk through the park together, holding hands. Kissing under the shade of a large oak tree. They were little things, which together painted a larger picture of two people who had once been very much in love. As another song once said, "Little things mean a lot."
He'd had a successful career; it wasn't money they had wanted for. He knew his aloof nature had been part of the problem, but that couldn't have been it totally. Perhaps it was selfish, but he didn't want to shoulder the blame for the breakup of their marriage himself. He wondered if she was sitting by herself somewhere, thinking the same thoughts he was. Or did she even care? Did she regret leaving? Or was she happy about the divorce?
"Oh, Grace." It was too much to think about at the moment. William Ellison sighed and turned the car off, then went inside. Sally was busy in the kitchen; he decided not to bother her. He didn't really want to talk anyhow -- at least, not to her. He went into the spare bedroom, and pulled a box out from under the bed. It was full of various clippings from different news sources. He read the headline on the first article he saw.
There was another, just below it.
William sighed, shaking his head. How had Jimmy survived in that jungle for so long? Could it have anything to do with those odd instincts he'd had as a child? How he could see and hear things no one else could? Could those skills have saved him? And I told him he'd be called a freak.
Parenting -- another area where the great William Ellison, business tycoon extraordinaire, had screwed up royally. All the important things. Your wife left you, your sons won't speak to you... but you're still considered successful. Why was it only in later years that he realized how wrong he had been? His priorities had been in the completely wrong order.
He knew so little of his children. All he knew of their marriages came from wedding announcements in the newspaper. If he passed either of his sons on the street, would he recognize them?
Stevie had gone into the business world; Jimmy was with the police department. That was almost all William knew of either of them. Oh, sure, the paper had told him when Stevie's children had been born, and their names. William knew that Jimmy and his wife had split up, from the divorce section in the Society section. But what were they like? He wouldn't be able to tell anyone who asked.
It was time to end this. A father should know his sons, not know ABOUT them. He wondered if the two had ever mended their own fences. And weren't their problems partly his fault, too? He had put them into such fierce competition, wanting them to do well, that he had turned them against each other.
"Sally? Where's the phone book?" he asked his housekeeper, walking into the kitchen.
Her hands were full of meatloaf, so she nodded to one of the cabinets. "In there."
"Thanks." He took the book and retreated to the relative privacy of his bedroom. He flipped through the pages, wondering how many fathers needed a phone book to be able to call their children.
There it was. James Ellison. William picked up the phone and dialed.
"Hello?" a male voice answered.
It was now or never. "Yes... I'm looking for James Ellison?"
"Oh, okay," the man replied. "Hang on; I'll get him." There was a pause as the phone shifted. "Hey, Jim! Someone wants you. On the phone... No, I don't know who it is. His voice sounds sorta familiar, maybe it's Steven."
So they HAD reconciled. That was good news.
The next voice had to be Jimmy... Jim. He was an adult now, and probably found Jimmy too boyish. "Hello?"
And, in that moment, William was faced with indecision. It wasn't a feeling he was familiar with; it wasn't a feeling he liked. But he wondered if he should have even done this. Would his son even want to speak with him?
"Hello? Who is this?"
William shook his head. It had been a bad idea.
"Look, I don't have time for this. Who the hell are you?"
Definitely a bad idea. William hung up. He put the phone book away, and then returned to the newspaper clippings. Maybe someday he'd work up the courage again. Over the phone wasn't the way. If they were going to meet again, it needed to be face-to-face. Perhaps one day they would.
The address in the phone book had been 852 Prospect. That wasn't far, just across town.
How could two people living so close together be so many worlds apart? Was it fate's revenge that a man who had spent his life closing others out emotionally was doomed to live in this kind of exile?
He returned to his collection, silently praying his sons would not make the same mistakes their father had. He wanted better for them than this. Much better.
The End