Chapter 52
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Martin lingered along the railing of Navy Pier and glanced around at the crowd of cruise goers while Sam stood over at the booth paying for their afternoon boat tour. Many of the people were senior couples mingled with younger families. He watched as a brother and sister leaned on the railing to look at the water below. They were chatting excitedly and pointing to the boat, arguing where each one was going to sit. They both wanted to sit on the ends so they could look over the side of the boat.
He smiled at them as they argued the merits of which side would be better for the best possible view. He couldn't help but think that Grace and Nate would have enjoyed an outing like this. Both of his kids loved any type of boat activity as much as he did. But this was something that he and Sam needed to do without the kids. Besides, he knew they were having just as much fun watching John milk his cows or collect eggs from his chicken coop.
He looked over at the boat to see a few men lingering on the upper deck. He squinted trying to see if he spotted Samantha's father but two of the men had their backs to him making it impossible to decipher what they looked like. Not that he was sure he could recognize the man if he were facing him. There wasn't even a driver's license photo they could reference since a computer glitch by Chicago MVD erased his photo. Fate conspired against them via a newbie date entry clerk and his spilt coffee.
He hadn't even seen a picture of Samantha's father before last night and it was over thirty years old.
XoX
He hadn't been asleep that long when he felt some movement behind him. He opened his eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the dimly lit room. It took him a moment to process that he wasn't in his own home but his mother-in-law's guest room. He rolled over to find Sam sitting up on her side of the bed, an old weathered shoebox on her lap.
She noticed the movement and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"S'right," he mumbled, sitting up next to her and looking inside the box to see that it was filled with photographs. He rubbed his eyes and asked, "What are you doing?"
She flipped through photo after photo. "I was laying here thinking about tomorrow and I suddenly thought: what if my memory of him can't be trusted? Maybe I wouldn't be able to recognize him?" She discarded the stack of photos she was done with and picked up another. "So I dug up this old box that my mom had in the garage. I knew she had destroyed a lot of them right after he left, she was so mad, but I thought for sure she would have kept at least one," she flipped through a few more, "but so far nothing."
"I can help," he said, reaching into the box and sifting through a small stack.
He was pretty sure he would be able to recognize someone who looked like a father in the multitude of photos that predominately featured just the three Spade women. He smiled as he flipped through photo after photo of Sam and her sister growing up. There was a picture of a sullen Samantha around age 16 sitting on the sofa in the middle of her mom and Bridget next to a campfire. Then there was another picture of her and Bridget wading in a plastic child's swimming pool next to a trailer.
They both wore matching bathing suits and were laughing, their hair dripping wet as they splashed around. He made a mental note to ask Diane if he could keep this one, wanting to add it to their album back home. While it was filled with photos of his family and the kids, there wasn't very much of Sam as a child. She never complained about it, she simply said that there weren't that many happy Kodak moments for her growing up. But here in his hand he had some proof and he wanted to keep it so she could look at it and remember.
"Check this out," he said, holding it up for her to see.
She stopped what she was doing to look at the photo. "Wow," she said with a smile. "I look just like Grace in this picture."
"I know," he replied, watching her profile as she studied the photo. "It looks like you both were having a lot of fun."
She nodded. "Sure does." She turned the photo over and on the back in what must have been her mom's handwriting was written, "Sammie and Bridget, Summer 1982" She turned it back over and said, "I was about seven when this was taken. It's hard to believe I was ever so little."
She handed the photo back to him and he said, "Well now we have proof."
She nodded and returned to her own search. After a few minutes of searching through the stacks of photos he heard her breath catch as she held one up for him to see.
"Found one," she breathed out as he held one up for him to see. "This is my father."
Intensely curious, he took the photo to see some actual photographic evidence of Max Spade. Based on the clothes it looked like it had been taken in the mid seventies. In the center of the photograph was a thin man with dark brown hair leaning against a brick wall smoking a cigarette and holding a baby in his arms while a small toddler girl had her arms wrapped around his leg. He was staring directly at the camera, a blank expression on his face. If he were to guess her father was about twenty years old when the photograph was taken.
She leaned in next to him so they both could look at the photo. "That's Max Spade." She grew quiet, her eyes transfixed on the image looking pensive.
He pointed to the bundle her father was holding. "And that must be you."
Her lips curved up into a small smile and breathed out, "Yeah." She pointed to the little girl in the photo who had a cherubic smile and curly pigtails. "And that's Bridget. Look how cute she was." Without breaking her eyes away from the photo she rested her head on his shoulder and said, "He looks so young. In my mind I always remember him being so much older." She moved in closer and he could feel her warm breath on his neck as she talked. "I guess it's easy to think that your parents are old when you're just a kid but in reality he and my mom were practically kids themselves when they had us."
He nodded, studying Max's features. "You have the same nose," he softly commented. He knew that nose well. His daughter had the same one, too.
"Yeah we do," she whispered, touching her own nose with her index finger.
They sat there in silence, just staring at the photo as if it was going to provide some answers as to why five years after the photo was taken that man would get in his pick-up truck and leave a wife and two young daughters behind, never to be seen again.
XoX
"Okay we're all set," Sam announced as she approached, handing him his ticket.
A woman with short brown hair shouted that it was time to board the boat. As the herd of cruise goers moved towards the ramp he noticed that Sam paled, not moving from where she stood.
He knew that this must be incredibly hard for her so he said, "If you really aren't ready…"
She shook her head and waved him off. "No, I need to do this," she replied, taking a deep breath. "I just need a minute to prepare myself."
He nodded as they lingered back while the rest of the group boarded ahead of them. They stood there for a few minutes when the attendant announced that they better hurry or they might miss the tour.
Sam released a deep breath, reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "Okay."
He squeezed her hand back and they made their way onto the boat. They found two seats at the rear of the top deck and sat down. They both scanned around for any sight of Max when the boat lurched forward, moving out onto the water.
Suddenly a speaker crackled on and a male voice greeted the group. "Welcome aboard. I hope you are all ready to see some fantastic buildings showcasing modern American architecture. My name is Max Spade and I am going to be your guide this afternoon…"
Both he and Sam craned their heads at the same time, trying to locate the source of the voice. His eyes landed on a man in his sixties with a full head of gray hair that was cut short and slicked back but whose features were undeniably him. Max's once thin frame was now more in the shape of a candy apple, legs like sticks holding up a wide round belly. His face was pale and weathered; visible wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
Martin glanced at Sam who was watching the older man, riveted, as he continued talking, "…such world renowned architects including Mies Mies van der Rohe, Skidmore Owings and Merrill, and Helmut Jahn." He smiled at the crowd as he slowly walked down the aisle. "But before we begin, are there any questions?" A woman in front raised her hand and asked if they were going to pass by the Sears Tower. "Yes, we most definitely will include our number one landmark on our tour." But that will be near the end of our tour. To begin, let's all look to our right…"
He could practically feel Sam's pulse she was gripping his hand so hard. He turned to look at her as Max's voice droned on lecturing about some buildings they were passing, "…now this building was partially destroyed in the Great Fire of 1871…" She was staring so intently at Max it almost looked like she wasn't even blinking. He wondered what she could have been thinking when she moved in close to him and whispered, "He looks so old."
He nodded and just as quietly replied, "How are you doing?"
She shrugged. "I don't know yet."
He tried to squeeze her hand comfortingly but her death grip was so strong he doubted she felt it. So he leaned in and kissed her temple instead when he felt her stiffen up. She was staring at something and when he followed her line of sight he saw that she was staring directly at her father who had suddenly appeared at their side.
"Well hello there!" Max cheerily said, smiling broadly at the two of them. He felt Sam's hand clench his as they waited to hear what Max would say. "You're a lovely looking couple. Are you here on your honeymoon or maybe enjoying a nice anniversary trip?"
He froze. They hadn't planned on this sort of encounter and he didn't know what to say when beside him Sam coolly replied, "No. We just wanted to see some sights."
Martin's eyes darted between Max and Sam, wondering if any sort of recognition would register in Max's eyes but the man just smiled and said, "Well than the two of you picked the best company to do that because," he pointed up to a building on their right, "we are now passing the famed Chicago Sun Times. This building was erected in the mid-1950's…"
He watched Max walked away, continuing his tour guide lecture apparently unaware of who he just talked to. Once he was sure Max wasn't nearby he leaned into Sam and said, "You handled that well."
She bit her lip, a look of hurt evident on her face as she replied, "He didn't even recognize me." He could hear a crack in her voice as she continued, "I mean, not that he should, he hasn't seen me in over thirty years but there was no recognition of familiarity, nothing."
"It's been a long time," he softly replied.
"I know," she agreed, still looking hurt. "It just stings that my own father doesn't know who I am."
He knew there was really nothing he could say since she was right so he released his grip on her hand and wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly to him.
They sat in the back, listening and watching for the next forty minutes or so as Max continued giving the tour of the architecture as seen from a boat along the Chicago River. Sam was quiet and introspective the entire time, they both were. He stared at Max and wondered what he had been doing for the last thirty years. Did he ever think about reconnecting with his daughters? Did he think of them and wonder what they looked like, what they were doing, what their lives were like?
And then as if on cue, there was a scattering of clapping pulling Martin out of his thoughts as Max pointed ahead towards the Sears Tower and said, "It stands at 1,450 feet and 110 stories high. It is the tallest building in North America and the third tallest building in the world." Then he glanced around and asked if anyone on board had taken the elevator up to the top. Several sets of hands shot up and Max wandered to the middle of the row of seats.
He saw the brother and sister from earlier talking animatedly to Max who just laughed and said, "Well, it seems we have two kids here who visited the Sears Tower just this morning. Let's give them a big hand in honor of their bravery for making it all the way to the top." There was another round of applause when a passenger said something that he couldn't hear but he saw Max shake his head and reply, "No, I don't have any kids," and then he laughed and added, "Never got around to it."
Martin turned to look at Samantha who had a look of pained anguish cross her face before she turned away from him, her eyes focused on the buildings on the other side. While he couldn't see her face he saw her hand shoot up and wipe something off her cheek. He was suddenly filled with rage that her father had just denied Samantha as his daughter, or rather simply denied the existence of any daughters. He wanted to rush over there, punch the man and throw him overboard. As if sensing what he was considering doing, he felt Samantha scoot closer to him, pulling his arm tighter around her. He still couldn't see her face but in a soft voice she whispered, "Let it go…let it go."
His heart clenched because he didn't know if she was talking to him or to herself.
