Jake stared at his fingers clutching the steering wheel of the Lexus for a long time. His mother, Ruth, was living in a senior only condo, a far cry from the small wooden house she had once lived in with Jake and her husband, Matt, "Mad Dog" Morgendorffer. It had almost always been his mother and himself, though. He barely remembered his older sister, Joan. His father, "Mad Dog," he chiefly remembered as a figure who constantly pointed out his faults.

It was only the patient work of Dr. Solomon, his psychiatrist, that made Jake take a step back from his hair trigger rants, to look at how his relationship with both parents had shaped him, affected both his marriage and adult behavior. Jake had even told the man about his one night stand with Monique.

"Jake, I'm not a judge, only your councillor. You've told me that this affair made you feel both guilty and great."

"Yes, and I don't understand it."

"Jake, believe it or not, you are a healthy, middle-aged human male. Because of all the stress in your family, you've been, shall we say, uninterested physically in sex."

"Dammit, doc, I was impotent!"

"Jake, listen to me. You've been under constant stress your entire life. Your father's disapproval sent you to your mother, who over indulged you to make up for it, and of course, made your father disapprove even more, becoming even more distant from you."

"Selfish old bastard!"

"Calm. Jake, calm. Remember that it's your life right now. You're a grown man. Your parents were both human beings, just like you. They made mistakes, just like every other human being alive. You've made mistakes, but you've done good things, too. You are a good, decent human being."

"I am a good, decent, human being."

"Exactly. Your father is gone now. You don't live with your mother. Just remember, every problem has a solution, even if that solution is not always an easy one. We've talked about your marriage, and I really wish we could have talked Helen into coming here with you. Based on what you've told me, you transferred your dependence on your mother to your wife. We've talked about this at length. That why you have one public face at your job and another with your wife and family. "

Jake had sighed, slumping back into his chair.

"That was part of my problem, doc, I know that. I ranted, I raved, just like a kid, to get my own way when everybody ignored me, but at home, I was doing it to get attention from Helen and the girls."

"Jake, you didn't know any better. You lived an isolated life with your parents. You had a horrible time at military school. You went right into college, where you got swept along with all the high hopes that were sweeping this country at the time. I was there, too. I remember how I felt in college, on my own for the first time. But you never had a chance to learn what an average, everyday life was. Based on what you've told me, Helen had problems with her family, too. A controlling mother, a spoiled older sister. Your wife comes across to me as a strong-willed person, who almost becomes her cause."

Jake glumly nodded.

"That's a good picture of Helen all right, doc. Especially since we got married, she's worked

like crazy, to take care of the girls." And me, he added silently to himself.

"And you've felt like the only thing she really wanted from you was the sex, because you didn't feel like a father, which you so tied to your feelings about your own father that you avoided the whole thing by acting childishly, unconsciously recreating your childhood."

Jake straightened in his chair.

"But, I am a man. That's who Helen married. I am a father, even though I had problems with the whole idea. I'm generally okay when I'm working, it's only at home I have a problem with how I act."

"Exactly, Jake. You're a man, a father, and a husband. It's up to you to know how to act. I can't tell you how to live your life. I can only show you how things developed, and how you can change them, if you want to."

"A man helps to take care of his family. I should be there more for Quinn, let her know that her old man is always there for her, if she needs me."

"That's a very responsible attitude, Jake, and a very mature one. She's a grown woman, but, she's still your daughter."

"And Daria. She's always been so mature, she's scared me sometimes."

"Highly intelligent children need as much love and devotion as other children, and sometimes a lot more, even if they have a hard time showing it, sometimes. The fact that Daria did open up to you is a good sign, even with all her current problems. She does love you, even after her well-publicized breakup with her mother. I know it will be hard, but insist on some contact with her, even a possible meeting, if you can arrange it with the US Marshall's office."

Jake gulped.

"And, uh, Helen?"

"Do you still love her?"

"Well, of course!"

"Then tell her! Think about the things you've shared. Don't agonize over your mistakes. Learn from them. Deal with them. It's not going to be easy, but one way or another, you can take charge of your life. Work with Helen. Things are rough for her, too. She might not understand what you are going through. She will see your changes as threatening, to a degree. Reassure her, but stand firm. You are not your father. Learn from his mistakes, but don't copy them. You've already done a great job, Jake. Monique was right about that. Good luck with your future, and remember, as cliched as this might sound, it is what you make it."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The visit to his mother had pushed Jake's new resolve to the limit.

"Jake, your father is dead. He wasn't a very pleasant man, something you helped me face when you had your heart problem. I haven't spoken to Joan since then, and I don't care to, now."

"But, but you had said you hadn't talked to Joan since Dad's funeral, Mom!"

His mother flushed a bright red, at being caught in her lie.

"I, uh, I meant . . . "

"Mom, have you been talking to Joan this whole time? Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I didn't want to get you upset, that's why, with your heart and all!"

"All these years, I didn't think she wanted to have anything to do with me or you, and you lied to me!"

Jake heard the same sick whine start to edge out into his voice. He deliberately forced his hands open, laying them palms down on the arms of the chair. His mother looked at him, frightened. Was his mother afraid of him! But, he'd never hurt her! Didn't she know that? His mother burst out, almost babbling in her rush to get the words out.

"All right! Are you happy? I lied to you! I've lied to you for years! I'm not like your father or sister! I'm not strong and smart, like Helen or Daria! I'm weak, I'm dumb! I've never been anything but a housewife! That's the only thing I've ever done! That, and raise you! I really did a great job of that, didn't I? Now Matt is reaching out from his grave, taking you away from me, the same way he stole your sister from me when he was still alive!"

At the look of astonishment on Jake's face, Ruth broke down, covering her face with her hands, her thin shoulders shaking. Jake stood up, looking down on his mother. Almost like it was the first time, he noticed how small she actually was, the wrinkles on her skin, the thinness of the grey hair on her scalp. He was suddenly, abruptly, aware, that his mother was an old woman. In a stunned voice, he choked out, "Mom?"

"All I ever wanted was a daughter, a little girl that I could raise, teach her everything my mother taught me, everything I had learned! But Joan didn't want to learn anything from me, she wanted to be a soldier, like her father was! She went camping with him, learned shooting, she did everything with him! She couldn't wait to graduate from high school and join the damned Army! Ha! Lot of good that did her! She was a nurse in one of those hospitals in Vietnam, during that damned war, and look what happened! I almost died of the shame, and she, she . . . "

Ruth's ranting stopped, and she raised her face, looking wild eyed at Jake as he stood silently over her.

"God help me, when she was hurt, I wanted her dead! I thought she deserved it! That mortar round killed everybody else in the ward she was working in! I wanted her dead, just to spite your father! My little girl! My oldest child, and I wanted her dead!"

Jake stared at the small grey haired woman crying before him in horror.

"Mom? Did you really hate Dad that much?"

"Yes! No! I just don't know anymore! He could be kind, good, he did take care of his family, no matter what! But after those horrible things in Korea, I lost him! I didn't understand him anymore! He wouldn't tell me why! Then, then there was that child! Like I didn't know what all that was about! Guess what, Jake! You wanted to know your father's secrets? Well, here's a good one! You have two sisters, Jake!"

"What! Mom, what are you talking about!"

"Your father wasn't faithful to me! He consorted with a whore! A filthy Korean whore! You have a little sister, Jake! Your father's little "Angel!" He dared call her an angel! The rotten old failure. He called her an angel!"

Oddly, Jake's ranting seemed to draw back from him. He felt like he was looking through a telescope, at something that had happened a long time ago, and far away. Something like an icy calm descended on him. His mother abruptly noticed Jake looking down on her, not in hate or disgust, but in curiosity, like she was something he was studying. She staggered to her feet, clutching at his arms.

"Go to Hell, Mad Dog! Go to Hell! Jake's all I ever had! You wouldn't let me raise Joan, let me have Jake! I stopped him from going to war! He's still alive, because of me! Stop it, Jake! Don't look at me like that! Not in the same way he always did!"

Did his mother want him to rant and rage? Jake felt his old feelings of fear and self loathing raging deep inside him, but the walls of self respect and duty he had so painfully worked on held them back. Respect for himself, and his duty to his family and friends. Dr. Solomon had worked extensively with Jake, honing his focus and drive. He knelt down, gently pushing his mother back down into her chair as she stared at him. The good and the bad, this woman, flaws and all, was the main force in his life. She had focused her whole life for her children, given all she had, to raise them and care for them.

Ruth's visit to his house when he had the heart attack came into a sudden, clear, focus. Ruth's attacks on Helen's fumbling attempts at cooking, or home decoration. Her insistence on Quinn becoming a housewife, not a doctor. Her bewilderment at Daria's subtle barb's, until Daria's final, bald-faced last statement had driven her from her son's home.

"She wants you both to model your lives after hers. And who could blame her? After all, you were just telling Dad yesterday how you made all the right decisions in your life. Right, Grandma? "

Had Daria really understood the savage cruelty of that statement? Did she really understand the sheer viciousness of it? She had been trying to drive her grandmother out of the house, and she had succeeded. Ruth had never come back, hadn't even called, just sent the obligatory Christmas and birthday cards. And he, her son, hadn't done a thing about it. He had just gone on with his life, ranting and raving like a spoiled child, embarrassing his wife and daughters.

Daria had been right, but had been wrong, too. Every adult had decisions he or she had to make, almost none of them easy. His poor mother had been an easy target. If Daria had used that line on Helen's mother! Even now, Jake shivered at the thought.

"Mom? Mom, listen to me! I'm not blaming you for anything! You raised me, and more then Dad ever did! I'm still your son. I'm just not your little boy anymore more. I love you, Mom, and I always will! I will always love, you, now, more than ever."

His mother cried herself to sleep in his arms, in an act of total role reversal. Jake sat with her for a long time, sifting his life through his mind, the same way he evaluated business opportunities. Mom and Dad, Helen, Daria, Quinn. Joan, and finally, Monique. These people all had a hand in shaping his life, just like Helen's family had shaped hers. Just like Helen and he had shaped Daria and Quinn. Would their daughter's someday be suffering the same wounds?

Jake shook his head. He'd call Helen, tell her something of what had happened, and after talking with Joan, go home, and work things out with his wife, if not for the sake of their own crumbling relationship, then at least, for Daria and Quinn. Still, his other sister? Who was she? Where was she? Would Joan know, would his older sister even talk to him after all these years?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monique stumbled into the bathroom, barely making it into the small dingy space before her stomach broke loose. After the morning ritual of gut wrenching heaves had finished, she staggered blearily back to her bed. This had happened all week, and she really ought to go see the doctor, she supposed. She lit up a cigarette, to calm her nerves, but stopped before putting it into her mouth, staring at the tip as it slowly smoldered as she made a few mental calculations. Sick every morning, late period. She smothered the cigarette in the overflowing ash tray. She'd been sort of celibate lately, so who? The night at the quarry, and the rainstorm came to mind. Could it be?