Chapter 13: The boy's in love

Wes went into the living room  and plopped down on the sofa next to his dad without even a hello.

“Weston, what’s up?” his dad asked, turning down the volume on the television.

Wes glanced at his father still not really focusing. It was a miracle that he had gotten home safely. His mind hadn’t been on driving.  He completely missed a stop sign and almost ran over a cat that streaked in front of his car. The rest of the trip must have happened by rote. He didn’t remember any of it. 

“Huh?” he said.

“Where were you tonight?” his father asked, now looking decidedly concerned.

“Um...Pepperfields...Uncle Rob and Aunt Beth were…. celebrating…. anniversary...don’t know which ....twenty…something,” Wes answered slowly. He spoke like a person who had been drugged with truth serum.

“They invited you to an anniversary dinner? That doesn’t sound like them,” Donny replied, frowning.

“No, I just saw them there. They loved Janet. She’s...awesome,” Wes said dreamily.

“Janet who?”

“Janet Fummel. Ah, Dad you just gotta meet her! She’s the best,” Wes said, his expression dreamy.

“Who is this Janet?”

Wes grinned. “My girlfriend. She’s the best girlfriend ever!”

“Seriously? You have a girlfriend? Since when?” his dad asked, incredulous.

“Um...I guess since two hours ago.  We only just started talking the other day and then I fixed her computer and we went out with Troy and Jasmine. Then we went out tonight and...and….we kissed. It was... fireworks,” he sighed, throwing his head back against the sofa cushions and closing his eyes.

“I can see that,” Donny mumbled, stifling a laugh. “So…you’ve finally found something other than computers to tickle your fancy. About time. So, when can I meet this dream girl?”

“Dream? No, she’s not a dream. She’s real!” Wes insisted, glaring at his dad.

“Okay, okay, take it easy. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Donny said soothingly.

“Oh...okay. You have to come to my next game, Dad. She’s gonna be there.”

“I always go to your games. You know that,” he replied dismissively.

“No, you don’t, Dad. Not really. You’re always on the cell phone. That’s not really being there,” Wes grumbled.

“You know about that?” Donny asked, surprised.

“’Course I do. Please, Dad, leave the cell in the car this time. I want you to get to know Janet. You’ll love her,” he said.

“Okay. I’m sorry, Weston. No more phones at your games, I promise,” Donny said, looking ashamed.

“Uncle Rob and Aunt Beth want to see you,” Wes added tentatively.

“I’ve been busy,” Donny replied, his jaw tightening.

“They told me to kidnap you and to bring you over for dinner some time. They want things to get back to how it used to be, Dad,” Wes said, unable to keep the pleading out of his voice.

“And how do they propose we do that, huh? Snap my fingers and go back in time? Margarita’s gone and won’t be coming back. Nothing will ever be the way it used to be,” he snarled.

“Dad, please. Mom wouldn’t want you hiding from the world, and especially not your own family.”

“I am in the world. I work in the world. I see people in the world. What more do you want?” Donny asked irritably.

“I want you happy again. I want us to see our friends and family again. I want us to joke and laugh and have fun again,” Wes said. "I know it won't ever be the same again, not without Mom, but we could try to..."

“It’s too hard, Weston. Rob has Beth and my wife’s gone. It’s just too hard,” Donny muttered.

Silence went on for several minutes before Wes thought of something.

“How about we go to one of Billy’s hockey games? They start in December and we always used to love them. We’ll have a guys night out, you, me, Billy and Uncle Rob. Don’t say no. It could be my birthday present. You have to do it then,” Wes said sternly.

“Weston…”

“I’m going to bed. Got work in the morning,” he said, cutting him off.  “Goodnight, Dad. Love you.” He hugged his father briefly and jumped up.

“I love you, too, Weston. Goodnight,” Donny replied thickly.

Wes was almost to the staircase when he turned back. “Um, Dad, can you do me a favor? Don’t call me Weston in front of Janet, okay? She’ll make fun of me something awful,” he said with a grimace.

Donny smiled weakly.  “I’ll try.”

“Thanks, Dad.”  

Wes went up the stairs at a run. Passing his sister’s room he heard giggling. He knew she had one of her obnoxious friends with her and he grimaced. He couldn’t stand any of her stupid friends. They would probably be up half the night giggling and talking about who-knows-what. with any luck he'd be up and gone in the morning before even seeing them.

He put his music on a little louder than he would have done normally just to drown them out and went to sleep to a robust baritone lamenting, “…if I were a rich man, yaba-dibe-dibe-daba-yaba-dibe-dibe-da...”

Donny attempted to watch Letterman for a half hour after Wes had gone, but nothing the comedian said struck him as amusing. That may have been due to his tortured thoughts. They went predictably to his darling Margarita and how much he missed her. The wound still felt fresh as if she’d only been gone for a few weeks. It was far longer than that, he realized. Time had slipped by without notice. 

He’d obviously done a disservice to his son and no doubt to his daughter as well. Perhaps Wes was right and he should at least try to get out into the world of the living. He glanced at the end table where his favorite picture sat in a mother-of-pearl frame. Margarita smiled back at him, her loving arms around the kids. 

Tears stung his eyes, but he didn’t bother stopping them.