"Fine." It was getting late, and Sydney was tired, so she was no
longer in the mood for arguing with him.
"I'm getting sick of your tantrums, acting like a two-year old." Sydney grunted and continued to eye him with that same mean look. "I won't tolerate it anymore. From now on, when I come home, you will treat me with respect. No more of this yelling and arguing. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"There's some food left downstairs from supper. I didn't think you would let me in, otherwise I would have gotten you."
"That's all right, I'm not hungry. I'll have a big breakfast in the morning."
Jack only nodded. After a moment, it seemed like Sydney wanted to say something else, so he sat quietly, waiting.
"Dad, if I start being good, does that mean ... will you stay home more? I mean, I know things like school and the other things I do won't be as interesting as everything you do during all your traveling. But if you'll stay here, I really will be on my best behavior, I promise."
Jack didn't know what to say. He understood what his daughter was saying, but he didn't know how to reply. He could not, under any circumstances, tell her who he really worked for. He thought of asking for a week off to spend time with her, but he knew a week wouldn't be enough. It would also be all he could get. If only he could tell her about what he really did. Then, he thought, maybe she'd understand why I'm always so worn out and why I'm never here.
"Dad? It's because I'm so mean to you that you keep going away, isn't it?"
To this he didn't hesitate in giving an answer.
"No, Sydney. I just have to go away a lot to do my job. You don't really believe I'm away so much just to get a break from you, do you? I want you to tell me the truth."
"Well...yes."
"Sydney, even though I'm not here very often, and it doesn't look like I care very much, you're still important to me. Just because I'm not here doesn't change the fact that I'm your father, and you're my daughter."
She seemed a bit confused, it was obvious from the expression on her face.
"But Dad, you always seem like you can't wait to leave again, and you never say ... you never tell me that you love me. I don't know if the words are actually that important, but the things you do don't make me think you love me, either."
"Sydney, of course I do. I've never been one for saying it, and I'm sorry. I don't remember you ever saying it to me, either."
"Well, I... I didn't think you'd like it, that's all. Mom never did."
Sydney was crying now, but Jack couldn't find it in himself to comfort her. He believed that his job had something to do with that as well. When you worked for who Jack worked for, there was no time for such things. He was not the type of person who showed love very well, and he believed the same about his wife, though he would find out that she had merely used him because of his job.
"I think we could try it, and see how we do, if you'd like." Sydney looked up, a slight glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Do you really mean it?"
"Yes, I do. It won't be an easy thing for me, maybe for neither of us. Still, we should try." Almost before he realized what he was doing, Jack had knelt on the floor in front of his daughter.
"I hope you understand that if my job weren't so important, I would be here a lot more. People need my help. A lot of people, that are in serious trouble."
"If you didn't help, would some of those people die?" Jack sighed, relieved. This was just the reaction he'd hoped for. He'd trusted that Sydney would be bright enough to understand.
"Yes, Sydney, if I didn't do my job -- and do it well -- then many people's lives would be at risk."
"Well, I guess that's okay then. I still wish you weren't gone so much, but other people's lives are important too."
"Good, I'm glad you understand." Jack swallowed. "Would you like me to tuck you in?"
"If you really don't mind. I'm sorry I yelled at you before. It was very mean."
"You have a right to be angry. It isn't fair that I'm not here, and I wish things could be different."
"From now on when you're home, I'll try really hard to be nice. Maybe we can even go a few places. Do you think so?"
"Yes. Come on now, time for bed. It's getting late."
She climbed under the covers, let her father pulled them up, and waited, holding her breath, to see what her father would do next.
"I'm getting sick of your tantrums, acting like a two-year old." Sydney grunted and continued to eye him with that same mean look. "I won't tolerate it anymore. From now on, when I come home, you will treat me with respect. No more of this yelling and arguing. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"There's some food left downstairs from supper. I didn't think you would let me in, otherwise I would have gotten you."
"That's all right, I'm not hungry. I'll have a big breakfast in the morning."
Jack only nodded. After a moment, it seemed like Sydney wanted to say something else, so he sat quietly, waiting.
"Dad, if I start being good, does that mean ... will you stay home more? I mean, I know things like school and the other things I do won't be as interesting as everything you do during all your traveling. But if you'll stay here, I really will be on my best behavior, I promise."
Jack didn't know what to say. He understood what his daughter was saying, but he didn't know how to reply. He could not, under any circumstances, tell her who he really worked for. He thought of asking for a week off to spend time with her, but he knew a week wouldn't be enough. It would also be all he could get. If only he could tell her about what he really did. Then, he thought, maybe she'd understand why I'm always so worn out and why I'm never here.
"Dad? It's because I'm so mean to you that you keep going away, isn't it?"
To this he didn't hesitate in giving an answer.
"No, Sydney. I just have to go away a lot to do my job. You don't really believe I'm away so much just to get a break from you, do you? I want you to tell me the truth."
"Well...yes."
"Sydney, even though I'm not here very often, and it doesn't look like I care very much, you're still important to me. Just because I'm not here doesn't change the fact that I'm your father, and you're my daughter."
She seemed a bit confused, it was obvious from the expression on her face.
"But Dad, you always seem like you can't wait to leave again, and you never say ... you never tell me that you love me. I don't know if the words are actually that important, but the things you do don't make me think you love me, either."
"Sydney, of course I do. I've never been one for saying it, and I'm sorry. I don't remember you ever saying it to me, either."
"Well, I... I didn't think you'd like it, that's all. Mom never did."
Sydney was crying now, but Jack couldn't find it in himself to comfort her. He believed that his job had something to do with that as well. When you worked for who Jack worked for, there was no time for such things. He was not the type of person who showed love very well, and he believed the same about his wife, though he would find out that she had merely used him because of his job.
"I think we could try it, and see how we do, if you'd like." Sydney looked up, a slight glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Do you really mean it?"
"Yes, I do. It won't be an easy thing for me, maybe for neither of us. Still, we should try." Almost before he realized what he was doing, Jack had knelt on the floor in front of his daughter.
"I hope you understand that if my job weren't so important, I would be here a lot more. People need my help. A lot of people, that are in serious trouble."
"If you didn't help, would some of those people die?" Jack sighed, relieved. This was just the reaction he'd hoped for. He'd trusted that Sydney would be bright enough to understand.
"Yes, Sydney, if I didn't do my job -- and do it well -- then many people's lives would be at risk."
"Well, I guess that's okay then. I still wish you weren't gone so much, but other people's lives are important too."
"Good, I'm glad you understand." Jack swallowed. "Would you like me to tuck you in?"
"If you really don't mind. I'm sorry I yelled at you before. It was very mean."
"You have a right to be angry. It isn't fair that I'm not here, and I wish things could be different."
"From now on when you're home, I'll try really hard to be nice. Maybe we can even go a few places. Do you think so?"
"Yes. Come on now, time for bed. It's getting late."
She climbed under the covers, let her father pulled them up, and waited, holding her breath, to see what her father would do next.