Sunday, December 18, 1988
Lee
pulled the silver Corvette to a stop on the quiet residential street. He
watched quietly as his stepson pushed himself out of the car, the click of the
closing door jarringly loud in the painful silence. He sat for a few minutes, giving the boy some space before
joining him on the curb.
"I
used to park here a lot," he told him as he leaned back against the car
door.
"Why?"
Phillip asked quietly, imitating his posture as he, too, rested against the
Corvette.
"From
here I could see almost every light go out, and I knew you guys were all
okay."
"That
must have been tough," the boy said, shaking his head sadly. "I mean,
always being on the outside like that."
"Sometimes.
Not as much at first, but later, after your mom and I were married. . . well,
you do what you have to do."
"I
guess I'm learning that." Phillip tilted his head to one side, and Lee
could feel him taking his measure as he stole a few carefully disguised glances
in his direction. "You guys
honestly thought it was better not to tell us?"
"As
ridiculous as that seems now, yes, we honestly did." He exhaled loudly,
running a hand through his hair as a short burst of wind bit his face.
"Maybe not better, but. . . safer, anyway."
"For
who?"
"That's
not an easy question to answer." He leaned back against the car again,
buying some time as he turned his collar to the wind. The boy's insight had
taken him by surprise; unlike his brother, Phillip generally took people at
face value. He'd grown up this last
month more than they'd suspected.
"I
thought I was trying to keep you and Jamie safe," he answered in a low
voice, "but I think in a way, it was for me, too. It's not as hard to lose
what you don't really have, you know?"
Phillip
nodded thoughtfully. "I guess so. Still. . ."
Lee
flinched at his tone, the painful undercurrent still evident in that one simple
word. Turning away, he looked down the street. A brown and white station wagon
pulled into a distant driveway, and he watched with an eerie feeling of déjà vu
as two small boys bounded after their mother into the house. He shook his head
sadly. "People make bad decisions sometimes, Phillip. I'm afraid no one is
immune."
"Yeah,"
the boy said ruefully. "That's one lesson I sure learned the hard
way."
Lee
smiled, giving him an encouraging pat on the back. "How's the community
service going?"
Phillip
shrugged. "I've only been a few times, but the people Dad knows at the
legal aid clinic are really neat. And it's kind of interesting, the way they
use the law to help people. I think I'm actually going to like it." He
laughed suddenly. "Is it wrong to enjoy your punishment?"
"I
don't know," he replied, the long talks with his pal Barney as he served
his time in the mess hall flashing suddenly through his head. "Maybe not.
There can be an upside, too. Sometimes when you least expect it."
Phillip
chuckled softly. "That silver lining Mom's always talking about." He
drew a deep breath, looking his stepfather in the eye. "Like with Dad. Now
that he's back home - it's kind of like we all have another chance, isn't
it?"
"I
guess we do at that."
"Thanks,
Lee," he whispered softly. "Thanks for saving his life."
"He
saved mine, too, so I think we came out just about even."
"Yeah,
that was pretty cool. I never thought. . . I guess sometimes we get used to
seeing people a certain way. Silly, huh?"
"Yeah."
He smiled, remembering a simple housewife from Arlington he'd once considered a
millstone around his highly trained neck. "Sometimes people have depths to them you don't even imagine."
"Lee,"
he said, sneaking a quick look at the older man as he ran a hand carefully
through his hair. "Do you think people really can change?"
"Um.
. ." He turned to Phillip, watching the boy's profile in the early evening
light. So much like his father's, yet in many ways, vastly different. "Yeah, I think they can. People change
all the time. They make mistakes, but they learn from them. Hopefully they
become better people for it."
"Yeah,
I guess."
"Yeah,
well, I know." Six months ago he wouldn't have dreamed he'd ever call
Amanda's ex-husband a friend, but somehow, he'd become that and more. As had
Phillip and Jamie. They were all part of the crazy melting pot called family.
"Phillip,"
he began, feeling a closer kinship with the young man standing beside him.
"I'm, uh, supposed to have a talk with you. About Christy and. . ."
"I
figured."
"You
did?"
He
heard the boy's sudden laugh. "Lee, we could have found that special brand of eggnog at the
supermarket in Rockville. Mom didn't have
to send us all the way to Arlington to get it."
"Guess
we're both more transparent than we thought," he grinned.
"Yeah,
you are. But that's okay. You guys don't have to worry. I'm not gonna. . . well, you know. Guess I
almost made another big mistake." He sighed softly. "But I did learn
from it."
Lee
nodded. "As long as you know that if you want to talk, we're here. Your
mom and I. Not only about Christy, but anything else that might be bothering
you."
"Thanks.
I appreciate it but. . . there's some stuff I'm not quite ready to talk about
yet. I just need some more time to. . . well, to think, okay?"
He
nodded. "Okay."
Phillip
took a deep breath, watching his stepfather out of the corner of his eye.
"Lee, I, uh, I didn't mean it."
"Mean
what?"
"What
I said to you that night in the car. You're a great Dad. I'm. . . I'm glad you and Mom got
married."
"You're
a great son, too." He grinned, tossing the car keys in the boy's
direction. "Just as long as you don't get a scratch on my car."
Phillip
smiled as he headed for the driver's seat. "At least I don't leave tire
tracks in the driveway," he teased as he opened the door. Pausing, he
solemnly looked up and down the street one more time. "Jamie was
right," he said at last. "The new house those people built really is
ugly. Let's go home."