Jenny and Bobby Grow Old

Both Jenny and John were staring at me, trying to say the right thing in response and failing to know what it should be. They were saved by Bobby as he approached us with a diploma in his hand and a giant smile on his face.

"Mom" he gave his mom a hug, "John" he shook John's hand. "Dad" he shook my hand, but I brought him in for a hug. "Thanks -- all three of you, for what you've done to make this happen."

Jenny gave him a kiss on the cheek and addressed me. "We're taking Bobby out for dinner; would you like to join us?"

"No, thanks. You three go out and have a good time. I already made plans, but thanks again."

I didn't have plans, but also didn't need to be a fourth wheel.

With my engagement to Beth broken off and with Bobby's graduation, he planned to move back to Michigan, it gave me the incentive to accept a position offered a few months earlier. If the offer was still on the table.

It was and a month later I was gone once again, this time to Haiti. There was a great deal of hope that the recently elected President Aristide would bring stability and order to Haiti. But just like every previous Haitian strongman, the hope was false and died too soon. Haiti suffocates in poverty and disease: malaria, HIV/AIDS, TB, and a slew of other diseases are rampant. Rulers come and go, the poverty stays forever. The corruption there is official. Almost everyone with a badge or a title has their hand out and that still doesn't guarantee the supplies get off the dock and to the people who desperately need them.

The fifteen months I worked in Haiti with various health service organizations didn't make a dent in the suffering. After all those years in the Sudan, and now over a year in Haiti, my spirit was crushed and I needed a rest. I contacted every person I could for leads and ended up in the town where I started, working for Pharmacia/Upjohn in Kalamazoo, Michigan.

I bought forty acres of wooded land just outside Paw Paw and built a house.

**********************************

June 29, 2001

Bobby's wedding is tomorrow. Bobby met his future bride at the VA hospital the first time John Fry went in for cancer treatments. Gail is a sweet lady, three years older than Bobby; smart as a whip and cute as a button. Bobby was only twenty-three when he married Gail. Given my history, I was a bit concerned when he told me about the wedding. A couple days before the wedding I sat down with him and talked about my affair.

"Dad, thanks for sharing. I sort of guessed it was something like that, even though you and Mom never said it. I know I'm young, but I'm older than you were when you married Mom and I've had a few girlfriends while I was in college, so it's not the same thing. Besides, just knowing what happened to your marriage because of the affair, it gives me an understanding of how I might be able to avoid the same fate."

Smart kid, my Bobby.

I skipped the rehearsal dinner the day before the wedding. As the father of the groom, I had none of the responsibilities - except I did pay for their honeymoon in Cancun.

It was a nice wedding and reception; Gail's parents did a great job. I was sitting with her parents when Jenny walked up to me and asked if I'd like to dance.

"Is it OK with John?"

"Yes, it is; he trusts me."

We danced to a slow song. I didn't hold Jenny too close. John might trust Jenny, but I didn't trust myself, even after all these years.

Jenny started the conversation. "Bobby's grown up to be a fine young man; and I like Gail."

"You and John did a great job while I was overseas. Thank you."

"I think it really helped when you came back and lived near him while he was at Georgetown. John and I were worried about him his senior year in high school. That's why I wrote and asked you to get re-involved with your son."

"When did you write?"

"The year before you moved to D.C. I sent you a letter explaining why John and I were worried."

"I never got the letter. I would have remembered a letter from you."

"Then why did you come back?"

"I wanted to get back in touch with Bobby; four years was too long. The fact he was accepted to Georgetown and I had a job offer in D.C. was just fate. It worked out."

Jenny gripped my hand and shoulder a little bit tighter, but we kept the space between us. "It did work out; Bobby was so happy when he found out you were going to be home. Why did you go to Africa in the first place? I never understood that."

"Penance. The old Catholic guilt."

"Penance? For what?"

"For cheating on you. For screwing up the best thing that a man could ever have."

"But you should have realized I forgave you years before you left for Africa."

"But I couldn't forgive myself."

The song ended and I thought this was a great time to make my exit. I walked Jenny back to the table where John was sitting, thanked him for allowing me to dance with his wife, said good-bye to Gail's parents, kissed the bride and gave Bobby a hug.

Three months later, John was back in the hospital; the cancer was back. It turns out it was most likely due to the exposure to Agent Orange while he served in Vietnam. Bobby told me it was terminal; they were going to stop the treatments and allow John to go home.

I was able to talk my way into John's room an hour before visiting hours. I sat next to his bed and we had our second real conversation. I thanked him for all the things he did raising Bobby and said I knew Bobby would help Jenny raise the girls in a way John could be proud.

"Yea, I know Bobby will do what he can for his sisters. I just wish I could see those two grow up." John's eyes were watery; but he was too old school manly to shed a tear in front of me. "What sucks is getting this cancer because of that damn war. We didn't accomplish a damn thing over there."

This wasn't the first time I heard a Vietnam Veteran express regrets.

"John, when I was in the Sudan, I spent time with an Australian pilot, he was a veteran of the war. He once told me he held a different view: "We had to stop those fucking commies somewhere, sometime, and you Yanks took the brunt of the business. The Soviets and Mao were behind the whole thing. If they had walked over South Vietnam in 1960, they would have gone straight down the line and south into the Philippines; just like the Japs did in the 40's. Nobody thinks of that shit. The trouble with that war was the only guy trying to win the war was Ho Chi Minh.""

John didn't say anything for a minute. We both sat still until he broke the silence. "Well, your Aussie friend was right about one thing; we sure fought with one hand tied behind our backs. I'll give the rest of what he said some thought. Hell, what else have I got to do?"

We were quiet a little longer; this time I broke the silence. "I'm not going to be a vulture."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not hanging around, waiting to get back with Jenny."

John laughed, even though it gave him a coughing fit.

"I didn't think you would. Besides, I'm going to be dead, so what the hell will I know?"

"Well, I'll help Bobby out with his responsibilities; but I'm not looking to replace you."

"That's because I'm irreplaceable." This time he only gave me a shit-eating grin and didn't laugh. I looked at the clock on the wall, it was ten minutes before visiting hours; time for me to disappear. John thanked me for stopping by and promised to think about what the Aussie had shared with me.

Two weeks later, on November 2nd, John Fry died at home. Under different circumstances I like to think we'd have been great friends.

***********************************

July 16, 2002

The class of '72 was holding their thirty-year reunion. Jenny was standing near the bar with three women from the cheer squad. They all looked good, but Jenny looked the best of all of them. Since I needed a drink, it was hard to avoid them. Shelly Collins, nee Philips, was still the flirt. She saw me walking toward the bar and grabbed my arm.

"Bobby Long. Gawd, you are still a hunk." Shelly pushed a couple of double D cup breasts into my stomach and hugged me tight, all the time rubbing those two bags of silicone into my midsection. My little brain did not react and I think Shelly was disappointed; after-all, two-thirds of those giant puppies were hanging out over the top of her dress.

I ordered my bourbon and spent a few minutes talking to the ladies. Finally, Jenny saved me. "Just like at Bobby's wedding; it's up to me to ask you to dance. C'mon Bobby (she said this as if mimicking Shelly) take me out to the dance floor."

Unlike the dance at Bobby's wedding, Jenny held me closer this time. "I kind of expected to get poked a bit. Shelly didn't get to you?"

"Not a big fan of that look. Why - are you thinking of having some work done?"

Jenny looked up at me. "You think I need work?"

"Never."

"And why did you disappear? I haven't seen you since before John died."

"Two reasons. One, I told John I wasn't going to be a vulture. Two, it's no secret that there are merger talks between Pharmacia/Upjohn and Pfizer. I'm on the group coordinating with Pfizer's due diligence team and have been shuttling between here, New York and London. Thank goodness I don't have a wife; I'd be divorced for a second time."

"It would have been nice if I could talk to you now and then, I could use your friendship."

"Jenny, I'll never be your friend. I still love you too much for that. I was close to leaving that behind when I was with Beth. I loved her that much. But when that fell apart, I was back to square one."

The song ended, we were still on the dance floor holding each other even though the music stopped and the MC was making some announcements. Jenny started to cry and walked away. The girls noticed; of course they were following the entire dance and aftermath, they followed Jenny into the restroom. I stood there looking lost.

Maybe I would have followed up after that night; but I was scheduled to fly out to London Sunday morning and didn't have a chance. I did write a letter and gave it to Bobby on my way out of town Sunday morning.

Dear Jenny,

I am so sorry for upsetting you last night. And I'm sorry we won't have a chance to talk about it. I have a flight to catch and it's not something I can re-schedule. When I get back, I'd like to sit down with you. I don't want to do this over the phone, or email, or any way except face to face. Maybe we can be friends, if that's what you need.

With affection,

Bob

***************************************

June 14, 2004

I'm getting married today. Bobby is my best man; his daughter is the flower girl. I'm happier than a pig in mud.

Four months after writing that letter to Jenny, I came home from my business travels and we did become friends. Not 'friends with benefits', and not 'friends who talk every day', but friends.

This was until the warm October day I received a call from my son. I was sitting in Bell's Beer Garden enjoying a pint when he called my cell. I invited my son to join me. Bobby sat down at my table, he looked upset.

"Dad, has Mom said anything about her health?"

This scared me, just the way he asked.

"No, what's going on?"

"Mom has breast cancer. Gail was teaching the girls how to self-examine and Mom found a lump. She's going in for surgery tomorrow."

"How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could have been. The doctor thinks they caught it early because of Gail. They'll probably remove her left breast, though."

Bobby gave me the specifics: what, when and where. The next day I was at the hospital with a bunch of flowers; Jenny seemed happy to see me. Jenny's two daughters were in the room; Gail and Bobby had just left.

I was always conscientious of how difficult it might be for Jenny's daughters if they saw me hanging around their mother. Would they see me as trying to replace their father?

We had a nice visit, considering the circumstances. I left after a half hour; Jenny was tired and needed sleep. The good news - the tumor was removed; the cancer hadn't spread and the doctors thought she'd have a full recovery.

The next morning, Maggie, their oldest daughter, stopped by my apartment. My first thought at seeing the young girl at my door was, "Oh, oh -- she's here to warn me to stay away from her mother." I asked her to come in and poured two cups of coffee.

"You really love my mother, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'm fairly certain she's waiting for you to take it to the next level. Why don't you ask her out?"

"I told your dad I wouldn't. I didn't want to come off as some kind of vulture."

"It's been two years since Dad died; I don't think anyone would think of you as a vulture. My sister and I wouldn't. And Dad said something before he died; now it makes sense. He said he hoped Mom would stop mourning someday and find love again. He meant with you, I realize that now."

"Your dad was a good man and he loved your mom."

"You know, and Mom loved Dad, there's no doubt in my mind theirs was as perfect a marriage as one could hope for. But Mom always had a special place in her heart for you. I could tell by the way she'd talk to Bobby about his father. There was never any animosity. Do you think her having a breast removed will change how you feel about her?"

"No, that doesn't change a thing. Not for me anyways."

"Then I wish you'd do us all a favor and ask her out. But, if you hurt my mom again, you're going to answer to me." She said it with a smile, which told me she knew I'd never make that mistake again.

Do I have to tell you I called the next day and asked Jenny out on an official date? She said 'yes' and it was the beginning of our second romantic relationship. When I asked her to marry me four months later, she said 'yes' again. That's why I'm standing at the altar next to my son watching the most beautiful woman in the world walk towards me. There is no doubt in my mind I'll 'forsake all others' this time around.

Epilogue -- Fifteen Years Later

"Did you get it?" I looked up from the terminal displaying the social security payment that posted to our account; Jenny was smiling at me.

"Yea, it's there. Nineteen hundred sixty-nine fifty."

"What are you going to do with all that money?"

"Already did it."

"What - you spent it before you got it?"

"I figured yours went in last month without any trouble. I took it on faith. If you can't trust Uncle Sam, who can you trust?"

"You Bob, I trust you."

My god, I loved my wife.

"So don't tell me; you bought that new over/under shotgun you've been drooling over."

"Nope."

"The mountain bike?"

"Nope."

"C'mon Bob, tell me."

I pulled the box out of the desk drawer. The box was inscribed with 'Mikimoto' on the top. Jenny opened the box and found the pearl necklace I knew she always wanted. I pulled the string out of the box and put it on her neck. (I didn't have to tell her my first social security check only covered half the price.)

Jenny rushed out and looked at her reflection in the hall powder room. "Oh, Bob. It's absolutely beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you. Go up and get ready, wear that little black dress I like so much. I'm taking you out to dinner, and tonight it's a bit fancier than the Paw Paw Brewery. By the way -- thanks for growing old with me."

Jenny laughed.