We reached a deal but there were no handshakes. No champagne and no congratulations. There would be no smiles to this settlement.
At least it was a less stressful meeting. Last Saturday I had been so nervous I had barely eaten anything all day. I blamed whatever anxiety I had been feeling up until that moment to that particular meeting. The one that was apparently doomed to fail before it ever got started. The culmination of all the nasty phone calls. All the brutal honesty and all the bullshit. And all the things no son should ever have to hear. But that was last week. This time my mother and I sat down for some liver with fried onions. We even managed to slip in some leftover cold Espresso before she looked at me and wondered aloud if we should get this show on the road. I nodded and went to go get my father downstairs. I walked back upstairs on my own. Just to show how impartial I was. We all sat there in awkward silence. I felt bad. But only because I hadn't offered to make him a coffee as well. There were some last-ditch questions about the house evaluation. Some last-minute explanations that would be repeated and only partially understood. Some last-minute bad blood. But it didn't change much in the end.
Column A, B and C awaited patiently.
When there was nothing left to say my father asked his soon-to-be ex-wife if she was okay with everything. And then she looked at me and said that she was okay with it if I was okay with it. She trusted me like that. On any other day it would have made me uncomfortable. But I wanted out. We all wanted out. So I agreed and she agreed. My father rose from the table and sank silently down the stairs and into the basement, his days suddenly numbered. I kept the reality of it at bay.
I looked at my mother then, nodded and fought back some tears. The nod said that she had done the right thing. The nod understood that she had done this for us, her two sons.
But the nod also acknowledged my role in this entire thing. I had just rubber-stamped my parent's divorce. Had given it my cold and indifferent blessing. But that wasn't all. Because I had stirred the pot. Maybe I had even inspired my mother to action. Most probably. And now we were all entering unchartered territory. Together. Alone.
At least it was a less stressful meeting. Last Saturday I had been so nervous I had barely eaten anything all day. I blamed whatever anxiety I had been feeling up until that moment to that particular meeting. The one that was apparently doomed to fail before it ever got started. The culmination of all the nasty phone calls. All the brutal honesty and all the bullshit. And all the things no son should ever have to hear. But that was last week. This time my mother and I sat down for some liver with fried onions. We even managed to slip in some leftover cold Espresso before she looked at me and wondered aloud if we should get this show on the road. I nodded and went to go get my father downstairs. I walked back upstairs on my own. Just to show how impartial I was. We all sat there in awkward silence. I felt bad. But only because I hadn't offered to make him a coffee as well. There were some last-ditch questions about the house evaluation. Some last-minute explanations that would be repeated and only partially understood. Some last-minute bad blood. But it didn't change much in the end.
Column A, B and C awaited patiently.
When there was nothing left to say my father asked his soon-to-be ex-wife if she was okay with everything. And then she looked at me and said that she was okay with it if I was okay with it. She trusted me like that. On any other day it would have made me uncomfortable. But I wanted out. We all wanted out. So I agreed and she agreed. My father rose from the table and sank silently down the stairs and into the basement, his days suddenly numbered. I kept the reality of it at bay.
I looked at my mother then, nodded and fought back some tears. The nod said that she had done the right thing. The nod understood that she had done this for us, her two sons.
But the nod also acknowledged my role in this entire thing. I had just rubber-stamped my parent's divorce. Had given it my cold and indifferent blessing. But that wasn't all. Because I had stirred the pot. Maybe I had even inspired my mother to action. Most probably. And now we were all entering unchartered territory. Together. Alone.
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