If Only For a Day

John Mallory waited patiently for his son to arrive for their dinner, looking the menu over from top to bottom. He didn't know why he was bothering he had eaten in this restaurant over a hundred times or more and always ordered the same thing.

John Mallory was like that, a man of order and precision like the welds he laid down at work with every move thought out carefully beforehand. At least, he had been that man. Lately, he seemed to be making a lot of decisions off the cuff, and his life had turned upside down in the process. He didn't entirely understand what had driven him into the arms of another woman just that it had seemed the right idea at the time.

He wasn't as confident now, but he knew that he had been unhappy, and it had made him feel better for a awhile.

"A pretty damn short while," he said under his breath.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" asked a waitress who had appeared out of nowhere like a Houdini magic trick.

"Just some water, for now, Thank you."

"Would you like to go ahead and order?"

"Actually, I'm waiting for someone. As soon as he gets here..."

"Sure, no problem, sir. I'll be right back."

The waitress vanished into the crowded restaurant living him alone. He looked down at his watch wondering what was keeping Billy, or rather William. He was usually punctual to a fault. When it got to be a good half-hour past the time for their dinner, John was starting to worry, and reached into his pocket for his cellphone. He was beginning to push the button to dial his son's number when a familiar face appeared, and his son sat down across from him.

"I was starting to get worried."

"I'm here," said William, his voice almost devoid of emotion.

"Is everything o.k. son, you look at little pale?"

"Everything is fine," answered William, but his dad doubted that assessment. William looked almost dazed. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he had been crying.

"If you're sure..."

"We came here to talk about you, not me."

"Yeah...I know. Bil...I mean William. I don't know where to start. I guess you know that things between your mother and I had been going downhill for a while. I don't know. I guess people just grow apart sometimes and..."

"How did you meet?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question. How did you and Mom meet?"

"You already know that story, Kid. Heck, I think we've re-told it a couple of dozen times over the years."

"Tell it again."

"Why would you want to..."

"Tell it again!" snapped William angrily.

His dad sat back like he had been slapped. William had never had a temper, never once raised his voice to his father in all the years John Mallory had known him.

"O.K. Son...Jesus! No need to shout," he replied, looking around the restaurant and hoping no one had heard.

He cleared his throat, "As you know I was living with your grandfather in Huxley back then, your Uncle Charlie and me. It was a shit town in the middle of nowhere. The day I got out of that place was one of the happiest of my life."

William didn't respond, so his dad pressed on.

"Anyway, Charlie and I were apprenticing as welders working on the Trans-Pacific pipeline that ran outside of town. We were lucky if we ever got a day off, but we begged our dad to let us out of work early one day because we heard the state fair was going to be in Lancaster and we were dying to see it. I think he thought we were shirking, but he reluctantly let us go. We drove four hours to get there in this crappy old jeep that your Uncle had pieced together from spare parts at the junkyard."

The waitress returned at that moment bringing the water John had ordered, but William waved her away when she asked if they were ready to order some food.

"Go on," he said.

"So...Um...Yeah, we drove four hours and waited in this long line to get in, but it was worth it! We had never seen anything like it before, carnival games and thrill rides as far as the eye could see. The smells of all that good barbecue wafting up from a hundred different grills. I think your Uncle Charlie tried to eat his weight in brisket that night."

John paused for a laugh, but William just stared at him, so he continued.

"They had this huge covered pavilion where a disc jockey was playing music, and a lot of the younger folks were there drinking beer and dancing or just listening. That's when I saw her for the first time."

"Mom," whispered William.

"Yep...Right near the edge of the dance floor. She was a tiny little thing in those days, maybe a hundred pounds dripping wet, but cute as a button. She had this long brunette hair that fell straight down almost to her butt, and a face like an angel with dimples that stood out so clear when she smiled."

John may have told the story many times, but he hadn't thought about it in a while, and when he did now, a smile came to his face. He could picture her so clearly in his mind, and almost taste the beer he had been drinking as he watched her hair blow in the evening breeze.

"Uncle Charlie saw her too and made like he was going to go over and talk to her, so I raced over there first. She thought we were a couple of idiots tripping over each other to get to her, so as you might imagine, it didn't make a good first impression. Thankfully, I managed to recover and get her started talking about Led Zeppelin, that was the music that was playing at the time, and it turned out she was a big fan. Eventually, Charlie gave up and walked away, leaving me alone with your mother. Somehow or another, I manage to find my courage, and when a good moment came, I asked her to dance. I remember that first dance. She smelled like strawberries, and her eyes glowed in the lights of the midway."

He trailed off again lost in the nostalgia, but when he saw the angry look on his son's face, he moved on.

"Uh...Yeah, we danced and talked then eventually I convinced her to hang out with Charlie and me. By then, he had picked up some blond chick, so we headed out into the main part of the carnival and played some games. I won your mother this little stuffed bear. I think she still has it...Anyway, we ended up on the Ferris wheel at near midnight, and that's when I kissed her for the first time. I was so nervous I nearly dropped my cotton candy over the edge my hand was shaking so bad, but I kissed her by God, and it was a Hell of a kiss too. When we got off the Ferris wheel, the fair was about to close, but we convinced your mom and this other girl to ride down to the beach with us. We walked on the sand for hours just talking and...well...kissing. Nothing else happened! I was at least trying to be a gentleman, but I did get her number and then took her home. The next day I called..."

"Stop!" cried William smacking the table with one hand.

John was jerked out of his memory, looking stunned by his son's outburst.

"William! What has gotten into you?"

"You didn't call her the next day. You never saw her again."

"What are you talking about? Of course, I did. I called, and we went out that next weekend."

"What if the story had ended right at that beach? What if you had never laid eyes on her a second time?"

Williams' eyes looked haunted as he stared at his father, and it made him more nervous then he had ever been in his life.

"I don't get where you're going with this, Kid."

"What if that one day was all you were ever going to have...If you had known that then what would have said to her? Would it have been enough time to say everything that was in your heart?"

"William I...I don't."

"You had all these years together to love her and be with her. To tell her every dream you've ever had, every silly story about every stupid thing you ever did, but what if one day had been all you had and you knew it. Would you still have wanted that day to happen?"

John took a deep breath thinking back across the years, moments that had slipped away from him suddenly brought into sharp relief. Making love for the first time in a tent at Spivey Lake, buying their first house, watching his son being born, all that and so many more.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Just answer the question, Dad. One day, just one day to hold her close to you, look in her eyes and dream about all the things you might say when the time was right, but knowing that day would never come."

Time seemed to come to a halt in the restaurant. The sounds of the other diners from the clinking of their silverware, to the droning of their many conversations dropping away until the only noise came from John Mallory's labored breathing as he struggled to find the answer to his son's question. A question that seemed more important to him than any he had ever asked at trial.

"Yes...I would have wanted it. Even if I could have only loved her for a day, I would have carried that with me for the rest of my life. She was that special, your mom."

William leaned back from the table nodding, some of the intensity gone from his gaze.

"I don't know what drove you and Mom to where you are now. Maybe there is nothing left between you...Maybe you said everything in your heart there was to say. At least you had thirty years to figure it out. Not everyone is that lucky."

"What's happened, William? Somethings wrong..."

William stood up, pulling a business card from his coat pocket and tossing it on the table.

"His name is Bernie Weeks. He's a good attorney, and his rates are reasonable. Call him if you want his help."

He started to turn from the table, but threw his dad one last look, "Or call Mom...If there is anything left to say, take the time, and be thankful that you can."

John Mallory watched his son leave then looked down at the business card laying in front of him.

The weather had calmed after the previous day's snowfall, and John's feet crunched through the newly fallen blanket of white up to his old front door. The house certainly hadn't changed physically in the few days since his wife had ordered him from the premises, but it seemed like a strangers home to him now devoid of the warmth it had once exuded. He knocked lightly and took a breath, preparing himself for whatever would happen next.

He knew he wouldn't be welcome.

There was movement behind the frosted panes of glass, then nothing. John waited patiently for her to decide what to do about his presence on her doorstep.

"What do you want?" she called through the door.

"Karen, please open the door."

"Why? Did you come back to walk off with more of my records?"

John bit his tongue, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I'm not here about any records I just came to talk to you. Please, let me in."

"What's there to talk about? I think your decisions these past weeks have spoken loud and clear."

"I know I screwed up, Karen, in the worst way. I can't tell you how sorry I am about it."

"Sorry! You're fucking sorry! Thirty years of marriage and you shove it all for one night with Barbara big tits from the damn Elks Club!"

"Her name was Betty," mumbled John.

"What?"

"Look...You don't owe me anything after what I did, but at least hear me out than I promise I'll go..."

There was another long moment of silence. John stamped his feet to keep warm.

"Cold?" came his wife's questioning voice from the warmer side of the door.

"Yeah...It's pretty chilly," John confirmed.

"Good, I hope your dick freezes off!"

"You have every right to be mad, Karen, so be mad. Yell at me, throw shit at me, hit me with anything you like, but can we do it in front of the fireplace?"

He swallowed a sigh of relief when the chain slid back, and the door opened.

"I'm only letting you in because I don't want to have to call the cops to haul off your frozen body later," she said indignantly, stepping back from the door.

John walked into the house, shaking the snow from his boots before continuing inside. The house was at least warm from the central heat, but his wife's gaze was even chillier than the outside air. She turned and walked into the living room, and he followed at a discreet distance. The place where they had spent so many nights watching T.V. and lazing in front of the fire was far less inviting now. Karen took a seat on the sofa, and he seated himself in one of the chairs opposite not wanting to antagonize her by sitting too close.

"Well...It's your dime asshole. Talk."

He wished he could think of something to say that would make her smile. Something that would make all the anger on that face that he had loved for so many years fade away, but he knew one word or a thousand would never be enough to fix what he had done. Words may have gotten him back through the door, but only actions would keep him there.

Still, he had to say something.

"I spoke with William today."

"I haven't seen him since he got back. He was supposed to come to see me straight away," said Karen with worry in her voice.

"I think he's having a rough time, but he didn't say why."

"Could be because his father is a philandering jerk!"

John grimaced and nodded, "It might have been us, but I got the feeling it was something more. He asked me about when you and I met."

"He knows that story forward and back. Why would he ask about that?"

"I wasn't sure at first, but I think he was trying to tell me something, remind me of..." his voice trailed off.

"Remind you of what?"

"Do you remember when we first bought this house?"

"I'm getting old, not senile, of course, I remember. You didn't want to buy it at the time because you thought it needed too much work."

"What did you say to me about it?"

"I told you anything worth having in life takes some work now and again. You have to look past the dust and cobwebs and see the home hiding underneath."

"Yes...I've always had trouble with not being gifted or imaginative enough to see passed whats broken to recognize the value it could have with some fixing. I was the one that was quick to want to replace things when they got old."

"Like me?"

"It wasn't like that, Karen. You weren't the one who got old and broken; it was me. I would stare in the mirror every day, and one day, I stopped liking what I saw there."

"What did you see?"

"A man who was fading. A man who never had the great successes that he had hoped for in his life. Who pushed his son into a career he never wanted because he wanted him to get the brass ring his dad never got his hands on. A man that couldn't admit to himself that he had everything he ever needed, because there was a part of him wanting to believe it wasn't good enough."

Karen Mallory stared into the crackling fire, "Was that the part of you that wanted to sleep with a barmaid?"

"I swear to you, Karen if I could go back and change one stupid thing I've done in my life, and I've got plenty to choose from I would undo that mistake in a heartbeat. I think that was what William was trying to tell me. I should have realized what was really important, but that maybe I still had a chance to try and fix things."

"I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive you for what you did, John."

"I won't blame you if you can't. I owed you far better than that, and I let you down, but I'm hoping you will at least let me try."

"I...don't know..." she said softly.

John unzipped his overcoat pulling something from inside he had kept pressed to his chest, safe from the cold. He lay it between them on the coffee table, and Karen's eyes brimmed with tears when she saw the old record.

"I remember that girl at the corner of the dance floor tapping her toes to Led Zeppelin hair blowing in the breeze. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I was more than willing to break my leg tripping over my brother to get to her first. You don't have to forgive me today, or the next day, or anytime soon, but I hope you'll give me the chance to earn that forgiveness one day."

He got up to go and let himself out.

"John..."

He stopped short of leaving hand poised to turn the door handle.

"Stay bundled up it's cold out there."

"I will..."

"And...Call me, so I know you got back to your hotel o.k."

"I'll do that, Karen."

EPILOGUE -

The office was quiet most of the staff on holiday. William stood by the edge of his desk, looking around at the space he had spent so much time in the past several years. It was amazing that a man could fit that amount of time into a single box, but that was precisely what he had done hefting the brown carton and carrying it in front of him. He stopped, giving the room one last look before shutting off the light and closing the door.

Janice was waiting, a sad smile on her middle-aged face.

"We'll miss you around here, William. It was a pleasure being your assistant."

"The pleasure was all mine, Janice. Thank you for all your help."

"Oh, one last thing. Your mom called and said to tell you that her and your dad made it to Huxley o.k."

William acknowledged the news with a nod. The fact that his parents had gone together to visit his grandfather was a very good sign that perhaps things could be salvaged between them, after all. He hoped so for both their sakes.

"Your resignation caught everyone around here off guard. Do you have some grand plan for the future?"

"Not so grand. I'm going to go to Huxley and be with my parents and my grandfather, and then after the holidays I was thinking about going back to school."

"Really? All those years becoming a lawyer wasn't enough time in the classroom for you?"

William chuckled, "This time around I have a different goal in mind. I think I'm going to become a teacher, History maybe, and then I'm going to find a nice, small town that needs someone like me to teach their kids. I've had enough of the big city for now."

"Modest dreams," commented Janice.

"Sometimes, those are the best kind."

"Goodbye then, William, and good luck."

She walked him to the elevator and watched as he stepped aboard. The doors closed slowly between them, and he waved at her one last time before he vanished from sight.