The Power of Family

The pandemic was in its infancy when the call came. Warm sun from the cloudless sky beat down on his exposed legs clobbered with sunscreen. It was a typical beach day in Delray. Nothing could be better. Resting on his beach chair, he observed the wide expanse of chaos held at the beach. The slight breeze was perfect for this Sunday afternoon. The light blue sky was brilliant against the green waves. It looked so picture perfect. But it did not feel right. Nothing felt right. Sitting on a beach full of people and feeling completely alone in the world. This was not just any beach. This is where he used to come when he first moved to South Florida. Then it was the beach he took his two sons when they lived in West Boca. Now it’s the beach without a soul. His favorite place has had its passion torn out by her.

His grief was disturbing. It was like trying to sort through the rubble of what was left of his life after the earthquake of loss had hit.

Dashing into the waves, he soaked in the cool ocean, floating in the current as the waves pushed and pulled him in all directions. Stumbling from the water, he was watching the two-player beach volleyball games as men and women would jump up to hit the ball. The volleyball would go spinning through the air, water droplets flying off it in all directions as it swerved in an arc of white. When the ball ricocheted off a player’s arm his attention turned to the two-man pickleball tournaments set up behind the volleyball courts.

“What the hell is pickleball?” he pondered.

Except for the sign posted by the court, which to the naked eye looked exactly like the volleyball court, “How would you know the difference?”

“No. No. No,” a young man was saying. “More flair on the serve.”

Scott Dunkin reached for his towel on his chair and turned to the young man, noticing his six-pack abs. “Yo. I gotta ask.”

“I know. What’s pickleball? And how does one get to be a coach? Well, as far as coaching, it’s not that tough. My brother and his friend are outstanding tennis players, so this keeps us active on the beach.”

Scott adjusted his sunglasses. “This game invented recently?”

“If you consider 1965 recent. Three guys either from or near Seattle invented it. Their kids were bored with their usual summer activities. It’s wildly popular throughout the US and Canada.”

“I did not know that. Thanks.”

The young man looked back at his brother. “No. No. No. Come on guys. The tournament’s tomorrow. Do you really think the competition is going to hand you the trophy?”

Scott, feeling every bit of his fifty-nine years, turned toward his beach chair, rubbing the towel over his sand-caked back and heard the young man’s voice.

“Hey. If you’re interested, the sign-up sheet is by the lifeguards stand. Some skilled players are always searching for a partner.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it. Good luck.”

Scratching his nose, he heard those voices in his head that became so familiar. “What’s to think about? You’re exhausted, and all you did was walk to the ocean and the court. Oh, and it looks like some coordination might play a part.”

Life Moves Quickly, With or Without You

Maneuvering between the para-skiers, catamarans, and kayaks, he made it back to his chair. The music from his iPhone 6 clicked off as the phone rang before he sat.

He reached into the cup holder of his chair, pulled up his glasses, and saw who was calling. “Cliff Mailon? “

Cliff was one of the few people still speaking to Scott since finalizing the paperwork for his divorce. His ex-wife, Laura, was telling daily untrue tales about Scott to anyone who would listen. She not only talked about Scott before the divorce, but afterwards the noise was brutal.

Despite a court ordered Co-parenting agreement, Laura was hellbent on keeping their two sons away from him, stopping at nothing, including lying under oath in court.

“Hmm. Yankees sign a ballplayer? Jets fire Gase? It’s pretty much the only reason he calls.”

He pressed the answer button. “Yo. What Yankees pitcher is done for the season?”

“Scott, I’m so sorry about Laura. I’ve been meaning to call.”

Scott sat on his chair facing the ocean.  He placed the phone on his right knee, while adjusting his earbuds. “Gotta do better than that, Big Guy. I’m not sure what…”

He heard the inflection in his voice.

“You didn’t hear? Oh my god. This is the first you’re hearing about it. I was sure that one of your kids told you.”

Scott turned his head slightly left. Placing his hands together, he let out an enormous sigh. “When?”

“Two weeks ago. Heart attack. From what I hear she went in a week earlier complaining of chest pains. They put a stent in, and she just never left the hospital.”

The heavy breathing caused Cliff to ask if Scott was okay.

“Oh, um, yeah, sure. Thanks Cliff. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Listen, if there’s anything we can do…”

“Yeah. Great. Appreciate the call. Talk to ya.” Click.

Scott stared at the ocean. He felt paralyzed as the classic rock music took over his iPhone.

His finger pushed back his glasses as the knot in his stomach tightened.

“That’s it. Over. Done. And nobody even called. No e-mail. Nothing. Two weeks?”

He sat on the beach and stared as the sun began to drop. His only movement was when he shifted his weight. He thought about his life with her, before her, and since her.

He had no feelings for her. After 19 years of marriage, she did everything she could to make his life miserable during the separation.

“Nothing could be worse than the marriage. Was this the plan? The eternal plan? She tells our kids what a horrible person I am? What a terrible family I come from? She has the principal call me the day Robbie turns 18, saying he no longer wants me in his life? Then she dies one week later. Even in death she gets the last word. Horrible marriage. Horrible person. I just don’t get it. How on earth did we create two of the most wonderful young men ever? I don’t get it. What’s the joke?”

The sun, a fiery orb, had shifted and was now behind him. He turned his head to watch it gradually receding into the town below. The sky comprised an assortment of shades, a blend of reds, oranges, and yellows. He turned back to the ocean. The waters below mirrored this effect. The waves were tinted vermilion, with underlying streaks of blue that clash with it.

Sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at his toes not covered by the sand.

“Now what? They never called. Mom died two months ago. How did I get here? What’s the point? What is the point? How do I move forward? Who knew? Well, everyone knew. You were stupid. Instead of leaving, you stayed. You stayed with The Narc. Unbelievable. The Narc.”

As the last of the people were clearing away their umbrellas and beach chairs, he arose. With his towel draped over his shoulders and blue and white Yankees tee-shirt in full view, he picked up his flip-flops while pushing the seat of his chair into the upright position.

“What now? Where do I go from here? Nobody knows what she was like to live with. A narcissist? Really? Who knew?”

Truth be told, they all knew. After three dates, she was talking about marriage. On the fourth date, she talked about meeting his parents. On the fifth date, she told him she was ready to move in. He never knew what hit him.  

He went from a young man with thoughts of where he and his friends would go drinking after work in less than six months to a miserable existence. He did not want to be with her. But with his father diagnosed with inoperable cancer demanding he get married immediately, he was stuck.

The marriage saw him lose his sister, brother, and every friend he ever had. What he learned was narcissists are envious of all the people in your life prior to them. She cost him multiple jobs, all the money he had, and his state of mind.

He could never go back to who he was with her focus on destroying him. “We are divorced. She got everything we had. I pay child support, but she’s still trying to hurt me. I just know Robbie has no idea about child support.”

And Now?

Walking to his apartment off Atlantic Avenue, he stopped for a moment to reach for the mask in his pocket. “Maybe this was the endgame. Maybe this was the plan. Maybe HE decided enough is enough. I mean, every day all she could do was talk about me. I mean, maybe it’s time. Maybe…”

Two weeks had passed. The news talked about shutting down schools in Palm Beach County as the virus spread at a rapid rate.

His office phoned telling him they were under lockdown for a short while and all meetings would take place over the computer. Cell phones and laptops would be the new normal until the office opened back up.

With little to no office interaction, Scott thought. “What if I tried? What if I reached out to Robbie? I mean, she really shut me down with Joey, but Robbie might talk. She’s no longer around. He does not even know why he hates me other than she told him he should. If he does, he’s fooling himself. It would only be because SHE convinced him how awful I was. I mean, I know it’s been a while, but if I don’t start now, it could be years before I ever see him and Joey again. Maybe I should wait. Maybe I should forget it. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe… Enough. Text. Texting makes it easy. You text and put it in his court. What if he puts it on social media? What if he makes fun of me on Instagram? What if…? Oh my god. Between the what ifs and the maybe’s, he’ll be a grandfather before you reach out.”  

He sat back in his kitchen chair, staring at the laptop screen, writing whatever came to mind.

Hi. It’s Dad. I’d love to see you.

Hi! If you have some time. I’d love to take to you to dinner.

Hey there. I heard about your Mom. I’m so sorry. Want to see a movie?

With his hands on his lap, he reread his masterpieces. “Jesus. What the hell are you thinking? Okay, maybe overthinking. Deep breath and…”

Robbie, it’s Dad. I’d love to talk. Please don’t disregard this and call me.

“Perfect. Grab the phone and text it.”

He stared at the phone for the rest of the day. “You’ve texted him before and he’s ignored them. But she was alive. She is no longer around. I know that’s bad for him. Both of them. But maybe it’s an opening. Ya know what? Who knows? You tried. Give him some space and see how it goes.”

It had been three weeks since Scott sent his text. The news on the virus was getting worse. He had not been to his office in a month but with no commute and no shower and no shoes, he was feeling more productive. He was waking up earlier and running on the beach before work. He stopped eating fatty foods and began limiting his alcoholic intake. This new normal was not bad.

No Time Like the Present

Upon returning from his run the next morning, he heard a text tone on his phone. Between sips of orange juice, he read the words he had been dreaming about.

“It’s Robbie. I have online classes but not working well. Call me at 11.”

After rereading the message several times, the phone slipped out of his hand onto the floor. He wanted to call someone, but who?

“I know. I’ll take a shower. No wait. What do I say? Maybe he wants to tell me how much he hates me. Maybe he wants to tell me what a piece of filth I am. Maybe… Enough.”

He wanted to take a shower, but he was so nervous, he did not. He wanted to eat but did not.

“What am I gonna say? What CAN I say? Okay, stop. You let him control this and you will never see him again. Let him speak. Maybe keep it simple. The Yankees. The Heat. School. What’s going on with the virus? And where in God’s name are you living? Why didn’t you tell me your mother died? Oh, that’s dandy. Sure, that’s just great.”

Suddenly it was 10:45. “Do I call at eleven sharp or am I fashionably late? Maybe ten after?”

The time suddenly moved like a tortoise. He stared at the microwave clock, waiting for it to read eleven. After an extended inhale, the numbers changed. “Thank God. It took long enough.”

With his shaking left hand, he picked up the phone and pressed his PIN number. He pressed his contacts button as the clock read 11:02.

With three keystrokes he saw the picture of Robbie with his mobile phone number directly underneath.

Both hands were shaking as the sweat from his brow dropped on his phone. “Press it. Just press it.”

The ringing had begun. No chance of going back now.

“Hi.”

Scott got out words and felt better. “Hey. What’s happening?”

“Well, this virus is gonna keep the school shut for a while.”

“Sorry to hear that. How you doing?”

“I’m okay. Joey’s at school and Aunt Jackie moved in with me for a while. She says we’ll figure things out when we know more about school. So, I’ve had some time to think.”

“That’s great. About anything in particular?”

“You. Maybe we should meet.”

“I’d love to, but can you give me a heads up? My love for you is unconditional. I mean, listen. I’m here for you. Always. But give me a hint.”

There was silence. Maybe this was it. He was calling to say goodbye.

“Let’s just meet.”

“Okay. You good now?”

“Yes.”

“You have a car?”

“Yep. Your old mustang.”

“Never get divorced. Too expensive. Alright, meet me at BurgerFi at the end of Atlantic in say twenty minutes. I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Well…”

“Robert. Meet me and if you are not hungry, we can walk on the beach and talk.”

 “Alright.”

Robbie arrived a few minutes past noon. Scott wanted to hug and kiss his son, but just smiled and waved. With little effort, Scott convinced him that eating lunch had nothing to do with whatever it was they would talk about.

Scott saw the frustration in Robby’s eyes, but did all he could to keep the immediate dialogue simple. School. Joey. How he was living.

After lunch they crossed the street and walked on the beach. Without insulting his mother, Scott explained their life together and why they married. How his dad, the most important person in his life, was dying and wanted him to get married and have children before he died.

He also went on about The Narc’s internal anger issues, her envy of everyone he knew, and how no one could satisfy her.

“We should have divorced years ago. It was horrible, but I loved you both so much. In fact, let’s keep that in present tense. I love you guys. I know you think I’m Jack the Ripper and Osama bin Laden combined but when we knew it was over she was going to do all she could to stomp on me and I believe whatever she told you was better than what her matrimonial attorney called me in court. Who knew I was so evil?”

Robbie stopped walking and looked at his father.

“Joey and I have been talking. We want you in our lives. He will be harder to to talk to but maybe it’s just time.”

“You sure?”

“No.”

“Then I take back the question.”

Robbie’s lips turned upward. “I gotta go, but let’s see where this goes. She told us some pretty horrible things.”

“You believe them?”

“I’m standing here.”

With that, they walked to Robbie’s car. Scott wanted to hug his son but watched him open the door, reminding him he loved him and his brother. As he pulled away, a smile came to his face. “God, I hope she’s looking up and cursing me.”