MY DEBATE PARTNER
Epilogue - Part 1
Seventeen years later, I was at the airport in Chicago. It was two days before Christmas, and the airport was packed. The weather was not good, and while planes were still landing and taking off, there were many delays. I was waiting in the terminal having been told my flight out was delayed for thirty minutes. I had managed to find a place to sit earlier, but now, there was standing room only. Whole families were sitting on the floor, and the terminal was literally teaming with people.
I had been away on business for five days, and I was tired. I wanted to be home. I needed to unwind and relax, but I knew the holidays were going to be very difficult for me this year. I was looking forward to seeing my kids, but I dreaded the next few days with my wife. Val was leaving me and moving back to Ohio right after Christmas.
Val and I had been married for ten years. Our oldest boy, Joshua, was six and our youngest, Steven, was only 10 months. Valerie and I had met in my last year of graduate school. She was a college Senior and a student in one of the Statistics classes I taught at the University. I can't say she was the best student of Statistics I ever had, but she was strikingly mature beyond her years. And, she was fun loving and beautiful as well. She drew me out of my shell, and we became best friends. And when my parents were killed in a car accident that year, she stayed by my side through the entire, horrible ordeal. The death of my parents devastated me, and I was so grief stricken that I became nonfunctional for weeks. Val comforted me, protected me and loved me. We were married two months after we both graduated the next year.
After college, I took a position with a management consulting firm based in Atlanta. I liked the work, but it required extensive travel for weeks at a time. The stress of constantly keeping clients happy and being away from my family took their toll on me - and on my marriage. Val became depressed. She hated Atlanta, missed her family in Ohio, and she became isolated. And at the same time, she developed health problems. The medications she took gave her insomnia and that had added to her depression. It seemed to me that no matter what I did, she found fault. And, no matter how hard I tired, I could not please her. And I know to her, it seemed that I was always preoccupied with work and not involved enough in the family. She had told me before I left on business this time, that our marriage was over and she was moving back to Ohio, with the kids.
And now, tired of living in hotels and meeting with clients day after day, I desperately wanted to go some place that felt like home. For me, home had always been Michigan, but since my parent's death, there was no home or family there for me. Home was supposed to be Atlanta, but my home there was breaking up. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was tired of it. I forced myself not to think.
I struck up a conversation with the lady sitting next to me in the terminal. She was a grandmother, traveling to visit her daughter's family in Atlanta for the holidays. She seemed like a lovely person. I caught myself wishing I was part of her family. After chatting for some time, I began reading while she sat quietly.
"Excuse me for interrupting your reading," she said about ten minutes later. "And this may sound strange, but there is a man over there staring at you."
I looked around the crowded terminal, and I couldn't identify anyone who seemed to be staring at me. "Where?" I asked.
"The man leaning against the wall. About ten rows up. "
I looked in the direction she indicated, and sure enough, there was a man looking me square in the eyes. It didn't seem strange at first, but when he didn't look away, a feeling of nervousness crept into my awareness. He just kept staring at me. It took me several moments to decide that there was something familiar about him. I couldn't see the details of his face that well, but I could tell he was a handsome man about my age. He wore a black wool overcoat under which I could tell he was wearing a suit and tie. He had dark, blondish hair which was cut short, and he wore glasses.
I couldn't take my eyes off this man, and I found myself starring back at him. And when I finally began to realize that it was David, I began to shake, and I felt sick. There in front of me, staring back at me, was the man I had loved so deeply and so strongly, so many years before.
The pain from losing David seventeen years ago surfaced from the depths of soul, and it mixed with the raw emotions of my break up with Val and being separated from my kids. The sick feeling started in my stomach, and it spread slowly both up toward my face and down to my legs at the same time. I couldn't move. I was immobilized by the emotions raging within me.
For several full minutes, neither one of us made a movement to approach the other. We just stared at each other. Finally, I could take no more, and I forced myself to rise and go speak to him. He walked toward me as well. The closer I got to him, the more I became aware of how he had changed. He was no longer a boy. He was still trim, but he had filled out. He was clean shaven, but his beard was heavy. His hair was darker, and his skin was more tanned. His face was older and more mature, but it was still the most beautiful face I had ever seen.
He smiled nervously and said, "Let's take a walk."
I didn't know what to say. Apparently, he didn't either. We walked away from the terminal in silence. Finally, he said, "Do you have time for some coffee?" His voice was hesitant, and I remembered the only other time I had seen him without his ever present confidence. Back then, when he'd been personally attacked during a debate, he had allowed me to comfort him.
"Yeah, but my plane is supposed to board in just a few minutes," I said. We walked to the concession just outside the terminal, and he ordered two cups of coffee. There was no place to sit, so we stood.
"You look great," David said to me. "Not very happy, though. Are you all right?"
"I'm going through some rough times, and seeing you, well ... ah, I guess it's just shaken me up a bit," I said.
"You always did wear your feelings on your shirt sleeve," he said.
There was a long, awkward pause, while we fumbled for something to say.
"You ever see Jim or Sara?" David asked.
I told him that Jim and Sara had married while they were in college. I was the best man in their wedding. After college, they opened a travel agency out East. They had eventually divorced, and Sara was running the business by herself now. I told him I had lost track of Jim years ago.
I heard the announcement that the plane for Atlanta was boarding. David saw me react, and he asked, "Is that you?"
"Yea, I'm afraid so," I said. " Looks like this time, I'll be walking away from you."
I regretted having said that as soon as the words were spoken. I hadn't consciously intended to be sarcastic. David seemed surprised at my comment, but he didn't say anything.
Then, he reached in his pocket and pulled a business card from his wallet. "If you ever need to reach me, here's my address and number."
I took the card and read it. He was the Director of Public Relations employed by a major entertainment company in Los Angeles.
I couldn't hold back my emotions, and a tear ran down my face, making a burning line to my jaw.
"You know something, David," I said. "There was a time when I prayed that you'd give me your address. I prayed to God that you'd write to me, or call me. But after you left, you never did. You moved away, and you just wrote me off. Why, David? Why'd you do that to me?" It was the question that had haunted me for seventeen years. And I'd finally asked it.
David looked nervously down at the ground, avoiding looking me in the eyes. He took a deep breath, and said, "Joel, there are some things better left unsaid."
I heard my boarding call again. I had to go.
"Okay, David. If that's all you have to say to me. Fine." I handed him back his card, turned away, and I walked back to the terminal.
And when I got back to Atlanta, Val had practically all of her things and those of the kids packed up and ready to go. There was a For Sale sign on the house. Somehow, I pretended to myself that my whole world wasn't crumbling down around me.
Epilogue - Part 2
That same night, after everyone had gone to bed, I finally got to spend a little quiet time by myself in my den. I reached for one of my old family albums from the shelf and looked for my favorite photograph of my parents and me. Running into David at the airport after seventeen years had been very upsetting, but it had stirred up memories of happier times when my parents were still alive and David and I were together.
I stared at the picture for hours, as I relived everything that had happened back then. When I finally put the album away, it was a few minutes past 2:00 in the morning.
Without thinking, I picked up the phone, and I called information. I asked for the area code for Los Angeles, California. Then, I called L.A. information. The Operator answered, and I asked for a listing for David McAndrew.
"There are 12 David McAndrews listed," she said. "Do you have a middle name or street address?"
"Charles," I answered. "His middle name is Charles."
"I have one David C. McAndrew," she said. "Would you like that number?"
She gave me the number. But, by then, I had decided not to call.
My fingers, however, wouldn't obey. It was like they were possessed. It was like I had no conscious control over what I was doing. I watched my fingers push the buttons on the phone as my mind was telling them to stop. I could hear myself saying, "Don't do this, Joel. Put down the phone."
But then, I heard the line start ringing. On the third ring, I heard the phone being lifted off the receiver. I told myself to hang up. I tried to force myself to hang up. But I had no control. What was I doing? What was I going to say?
"He l-lo." It was David.
"David?" I heard myself ask.
"Yes, this is David. Who's this?"
"David, this is Joel."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Finally, he asked, "How'd you get my number?"
"You're in the book, Einstein." I said.
"Joel, I didn't mean anything by that, you just surprised me, that's all. But I'm glad you called."
"David, I have a question for you. Would you please tell me what the fuck you meant by - there are some things better left unsaid?"
He didn't respond.
I continued. "Because I think that's a lousy thing to say to me after the way you left me. I think you owe a better answer than that."
"Joel, I am truly sorry," David said. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just a long story, and it was difficult to talk in the airport. And your question caught me off guard." He sounded sincere.
"David, I need to know. Why didn't you ever contact me?"
He paused for a long time. Then, he said, "You won't like the answer."
"Yeah, well, there's not much going on right now that I do like," I said. "So you might as well just tell me."
Never in my wildest imagination would I have guessed what he said next. "Your father threatened to break both my legs if I ever tried to see you again."
I was stunned. At first, I couldn't believe that David was telling me the truth. I actually thought that he was lying to me. My father had never said a word to me about David. He had never given me any reason to think he even suspected I had a romantic relationship with David. Never, not once, had I even considered that my Dad might have known about us. I said nothing, and David continued.
"Remember that week I spent at your house before Regionals? When my Dad was interviewing in California at the University?"
I remembered, but I hadn't known at the time that his Dad was interviewing for a job.
"Well," David said, "one night your Dad was outside in the backyard, and you and I were watching TV in the family room. He saw us through the window when I kissed you. A week or so later, after my parents got home, he came over to see me. By then, I knew we were moving, but I hadn't told you. Your Dad said that he and your Mom had plans for your future, and that their plans didn't include "a pretty boy faggot" like me. He told me that after the State Championship, I could never, ever see you again. He said that he was going to put you in private school as soon as you got back from Mexico."
It was starting to make sense. I remembered that my parents had mentioned something about private school, but they had dropped the subject when I insisted that I wanted to graduate from Joliet. And that discussion was just before State. Obviously, like everyone else, they hadn't wanted to upset me before the State competition.
And another thing was starting to make sense, too. When we were in Mexico, I had tried to pretend to have a good time, but I wasn't very successful. I was obviously despondent. Neither one of my parents had ever asked me what was wrong. They must have known that David had told me he was moving to California. They knew why I was depressed, but they hadn't wanted to talk about it.
David continued. "Well, when I told your Dad that I was moving to California, he was relieved. But he made me promise never to contact you again after I left. He said if I did, he'd personally break both my legs. He even said that since he was a Physical Therapist, he knew how to do it so I'd never walk again."
By the time David had finished, I knew he was telling the truth, and I was crying. It was a shock for me to find out that my parents knew about David and me. And I started to feel ashamed that I had caused my Dad so much grief that he had threatened violence against David.
"I'm sorry he did that to you, David. I never knew," I said.
"I know, babe," he said. "Its okay. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."
"David," I said. "Both my parents are dead now."
"I know," he said.
I was stunned again. "How did you know that?" I asked.
"Oh, Joel. This is tough, Man," David said.
"David, we've got to be completely honest with each other," I said. "No more secrets. No more holding back. Just tell me."
He sighed before answering my question. "About ten years ago, my cousin in Detroit died, and I went to the funeral. Since I was in the area, I stopped at the High School. Mrs. Weber was still there, and we talked. She told me about your parents. And she told me you were getting married. She even showed me the wedding invitation that you had sent her."
"You know about me and Val?" I asked.
"Valerie Renee Olson. I'll never forget the name on that invitation. And I know you have two kids from the biography on your company's web site," he said.
I was speechless. All these years, I thought David had written me off. I thought he didn't care. I thought he'd forgotten about me. And instead, he knew everything - about my parents, my marriage, my kids, even where I worked and what I did.
"Did you know Val is leaving me?" I asked.
David was silent. Neither one of us said anything for a long time.
"What do you mean, leaving you? he finally asked.
"Well, she's divorcing me and taking the kids back to her parent's house in Ohio. She's leaving the day after Christmas. The marriage is over, the house if for sale, and I'm having about the worst Christmas I've had in seventeen years."
"Joel, I'm so sorry," David said. "I had no idea that was going on. That's what you meant in the airport about having a rough time?"
"Yeah, that's what I meant. And I have to admit it's been a little disconcerting running into you, and learning that my parents knew about us and that my Dad threatened you with bodily harm. God, that's incredible. I don't know what to think."
"Think you'd like to come visit me in California?" he asked.
Surprisingly, I answered immediately. "David, I'm in a really bad place right now. My whole life is crumbling down around me. I've got nobody. My parents are dead. My wife is leaving me. And she's taking my kids to another state. And I'm really needy right now. I can't risk being hurt. I couldn't take it. If I came to see you, I'd.....I'd..." I couldn't finish my sentence. I broke down again, crying.
"You'd what? Need me to love you?" David asked.
All of a sudden, the flood gates of my emotions broke wide open. And I sobbed openly. But, I managed to tell him the truth. "Yes, David." I sobbed. "I'd need you. I do need you to love me. I've missed you so much."
"Joel," David said. "I want to you to fly out here tomorrow. Or yet today! I love you, Joel. I have always loved you. And, I want you back." David was crying, too. "I've wanted you back for seventeen years. Will you take me back? Please, Joel!"
I flew out from Atlanta to L.A. the day after Christmas, two hours after Val and the kids left for Ohio. And David and I have been together ever since.
The End
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