The Kid & Me: Chapter Five: The Matchmaker

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Love,

like a river,
will cut a new path
whenever it meets an obstacle.
~Crystal Middlemas~

There is only one happiness in life,
to love and be loved.
~George Sand~

You know you are in love
when you see the world in her eyes,
and her eyes everywhere in the world.
~David Levesque~

On the way to the hospital I quickly filled Bettie in on some of the details regarding what later came to be called "The Swimming Pool Incident". At the emergency room, the nurses and doctors patted me on the back for my quick action that had helped saved Dag's life. Their praise of course, was misplaced. It had been my own carelessness, neglect, and stupidity that had almost cost Dag her life.

By the time she was finished being examined Dag was almost back to normal, and seemed more afraid of all the comings and goings in the emergency room than what had taken place just a few hours before.

Through it all, neither I nor the kid left her side. The doctors and nurses assured us she was okay but they wanted to keep her overnight for observation just to be safe. By the time they sent Dag to a room, and once she was assured that Bettie and I were going to be there for the long haul she fell asleep leaving us to keep an all night vigil. We sat there silently for a long time, only stirring once in a while to stretch our legs.

"Don't beat yourself up over this," Bettie finally said to me softly after we had hardly spoken for an hour. It was as if she had been reading my thoughts.

"It could have happened while I was taking care of her just as easily. We were both careless concerning the pool. I should have been teaching Dag how to swim."
Her words were comforting but I still felt a little ill to my stomach over the whole ordeal.

"Yes, but it wasn't you," I told her, "and I have a feeling that you wouldn't have run off to answer the phone without grabbing Dag and taking her along with you"

"Well...," she said thoughtfully, "How were you to know that Mister Bear would be wanting to take swimming lessons?"

That lightened my mood somewhat and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, Mister Bear. In all the years that you had that bear I would have thought that somewhere along the way you would have taught him how to swim." Then I turned to her. "Do you think Dag actually saw Veronica?" I asked her.

"I don't know, I mean I've heard about such things happening," she answered then shivered as if she had a sudden chill. "I know I never thought of you as being one to pray either. That must be a first."

“Desperate measures for desperate times,” I told her. "I've never doubted that there might be a man upstairs," I told her. "It's just that I never saw any sign of him in my life, even when I was a kid. I just never could figure out what in the heck he was thinking of sometimes what with some of the things that happen on this crazy mixed up planet. So no, I've never been to church or anything like that, but I never doubted he was up there being entertained by all the commotion going on down. Sometimes I think he’s having a pretty good laugh at our expense. I had never asked him for anything until now so maybe he figured he kind of owed me one. Well, he probably owed Dag one.”

The kid thought about that one for a moment before changing the subject. "How did you, Susan and dad become such good friends? I know a little bit but not much."

I had never talked about those early years with anyone other than Frank and Susan, and even Frank didn't know everything about what went on when I was growing up, about Susan or I. But the indignities I had to suffer through were cake icing compared to what Susan had gone through with her parents.”

"I was always getting into trouble when I was in school," I began. "I was the spoiled rich kid or so everyone thought. I have to admit that even at an early age I could be somewhat of a jerk. When I was in grade school it usually ended with some clown beating the crap out of me. Susan saw where I was headed and took me under her wing. She was kind of an outcast also because of her parents so I guess we were birds of a feather. It was because of Susan's nagging that I began working out so I could take care of myself."

"After a while the fights stopped and everybody suddenly wanted to be the rich kid's buddy. As for your dad, well his parents, your grandparents were good and kind people. They always treated Susan and me like we were part of the family. In fact, that was the closest thing to a family that Susan or I had." I turned to look at her.

"Frank was another one who was always getting bullied around at school because of his size. One day when Susan and I were walking home from school there were these two guys that had him up against a tree and had thrown his books out onto the road. They were trying to pull his pants off of him." Thinking about it now I couldn't help but chuckle at what happened. "Susan simply told me to sic' 'em, so I did and not only did Frank keep his pants on, two other kids went home without theirs, unless of course they figured out a way to get them off the telephone wire I threw them up on. From that day on the three of us were inseparable for a long time."

"How bad was it for Susan and you?" she asked, almost hesitantly. Again these were things I hadn't talked about before, but at that moment in time, it seemed okay to finally bare my soul at least in some small part to someone.

"Oh, you know it was bad sometimes. I was taken care of by a succession of nannies, housekeepers, butlers, gardeners or whoever happened to be around at the time. Some of them were okay, kind of friendly but not very many. Most of them looked at me as just the rich brat who had everything. That's how most people would see it which is why I don't talk about it. You know how it would go, "What's the rich kid whining about when he's got all that money?” I shrugged my shoulders.

"But there had to be more to it than that"

"Yeah, there was more to it," I answered. "I had one housekeeper who liked locking me in the broom closet for hours at a time to keep me out of her hair. Then there was one that I got mad at and cussed out one day and she washed my mouth out with soap. I guess I had that coming. It’s just that she had me chew it up too. If I didn’t chew she’d box me a good one."

"And then she got such a kick out of doing it that the first thing every morning she would wash my mouth out with soap, no matter what. And you think that kid in A Christmas Story had it bad. Then there was this one gardener we had, he tried to mess with me out behind the bushes." My voice trailed off.

"What did you do, were you able to do anything?" Bettie looked horrified at what I had just told her. I hesitated a long time before answering.

"Yeah, I pretended it was fourth down 20 yards to go, so I punted. From the squeal that came out of him, I'd say I could have made a good living kicking a football fifty or sixty yards. But he never tried it again."

"Why didn't you tell your father? Surely he would have done something, anything?"

"I shook my head. My father had no time for me. Didn't care about me. I was only there because he was saddled with me. He was always threatening to send me off to some boarding school just to make it easier on himself. I think he blamed me for my mother’s death in a way"

"I knew I couldn’t go to any boarding school That would have meant not being with Susan and Frank. I didn't think I could find two other friends like them, especially in some military school with some jerk barking orders at you all day long. Yeah, the gardener might have been fired, but I'd have been sent off. That's the real fear that kept me in line most of the time."

"What about Susan's parents? How bad were they?"

"It wasn't just the religious thing. Lot's of people are religious and not crazy. Her parents were crazy religious, sort of like Carrie White's mother in that movie. No, they were even worse than her sometimes. When I hadn't seen Susan for days, I'd sneak over to her house and peak in the window. There they would be the three of them, kneeling and praying. And they would stay like that for hours. One time I stayed peeking in that window for three hours and they never got up, not once, not even to use the bathroom. Susan told me that one time they prayed so long, that she couldn't hold it any more and wet all over her self."

"They made her stay there and pray for another two hours in her soaked clothes because they said the devil was trying to take her over. I think there was more that they did, a lot worse, but there was so much stuff she never could bring herself to talk about. It was strange. Susan would constantly say how much she hated her parents. Yet, she was always trying to seek their approval, as if somehow someway that would make them love her for just being her. It never happened of course. So she finally gave up and started to do what she wanted to do. That's how she ended up pregnant. Yet, she married Jim just to please her parents. I never understood it. After she lost the baby though, she didn't speak to her parents for years afterwards, and not very often after that. They said she lost the baby because she was a sinner and God was punishing her for being a harlot"

I had told Bettie more about Susan and I than I ever had anyone. I’m not sure she would have approved of me doing so. I think the story saddened Bettie a great deal, but in a way, I think it also helped her to understand me, and why I lived my life the way that I did.

"I've never had anyone need me the way Dag does. I'm just scared to death of screwing things up for her." I turned to look at Bettie. "And she needs you too, kid. She loves you a lot. So....." I hesitated, not only because I didn't want to put Bettie on the spot, but because I wasn't sure what her answer would be. Finally though, I managed to work up the courage.

"I want you to quit your job at the mall. I'll pay you extra to make it up to you. I just...I'm too unsure of myself right now; I have been for this entire month. You've been my anchor through the whole thing. And most of all...Dag needs you. I know it's asking a lot," Bettie put her fingers up to my lips.

"Shhhhhhhhsh," she said quietly. "Nothing would make me happier right now. I know you're going to think this is silly, but I feel almost like a second mother to Dag. She's such a good kid, and she does love you so. She's just always been afraid that you would reject her since you got off to such a rocky start."

"So, yeah I'll do it. I just wish it hadn't taken you so long to ask!"

I couldn't help but smile at her. I looked at my watch and saw that it was four a.m. At one point I think we both dozed off in the chairs. When Dag awoke early the next morning, it was as if she was good as new and nothing had ever happened. She never again spoke about the vision of Veronica.

Upon returning home the following morning I looked after Dag while the kid ran home to shower and change her clothes. I insisted that she grab some sleep but she wouldn't hear of it and less than an hour later she was back. She took one look at me though, told me I looked like hell and for ME to get some sleep or she would go back to work at the mall. Yeah, she had honed those debate skills to perfection and for once I was glad of it. The shower felt great, and sliding into a clean pair of pajamas did also. Before I laid down though there was just one thing left to do.

I began calling home remodeling companies to have someone come out and give an estimate on enclosing the pool, and to remodel my second floor. It had always been there but was nothing more than an over sized empty space with no walls or anything. I finally found a couple of guys who could come out at the end of the week so then I was finally able to sleep while Bettie and Dag scurried off to the park.

I awoke quickly when they returned and told Bettie it could be weeks before I could get the pool enclosed. There was only one thing left to do. We had to teach Dag how to swim and after what had happened with Mr. Bear I knew it wasn't going to be easy.

The first few days were terrible. It consisted of the two of us taking turns carrying Dag through the water while she clutched each of us with a death grip. Then she would sit by the side of the pool while Bettie and I would swim around, splash each other, and do things that would make her eventually want to be able to join in the fun.

That seemed to work because finally she told us she was ready to try it. That meant another few days of the two of us carrying her around and letting her pretend like she was swimming, Dag hollering at us to not let go, Bettie and I instructing her on how to move her hands and feet. What Dag didn't realize is that with each lesson we were loosening the hold on her. And one day, finally, she swam about four feet away from us on her own. You'd have thought she had won the gold medal in the 800 meter freestyle from her reaction.

Dag’s progress became sure and steady until it dawned on me that she was playing her own little game. She would make Bettie and me stand on each side of her holding her while she would get ready to take off. Then she would say, "I'm not ready, I'm not ready. Wait a minute, I'll tell you when I'm ready." And then without warning she would dart away.

And Bettie and I would find ourselves falling into each other. Now, looking back I don't know if that was Dag's plan all along but she seemed to get an awfully big kick out of it.

But I do know that more often than not, the kid and me would be left there standing looking at each other, sometimes laughing hysterically. And sometimes we would just be left there looking at each other and talking. Until Dag would swim back to us wanting to do it again. Eventually though, there came a day that she no longer swam back to us, preferring to go solo.

From that point on we faced another obstacle. We couldn't keep her out of the pool. Swimming had suddenly become her passion.

Then there were some other strange habits Dag developed. In the beginning, when the three of us would go for walks or sit and watch TV, Dag would always walk between us or sit in the middle, the kid on one side and me on the other. Then she developed this sudden urgency about having to be on the end. It didn't matter which end, just so long as it wasn't in the middle. This was never more apparent than on the fourth of July, when we sat in the back of the yard to watch the fireworks blasting off from the nearby park.

Dag absolutely had to sit on the end. There was another chair but she had to sit on the same bench as us. This was awkward because I was pushed up against Bettie, and there was no place to put my arm. So I decided to rest it on the back of the bench. I tried to get it up and back there without her noticing but it had to go somewhere. And then before you realize it your arm just kind of slips down in a moment of awkwardness. As God is my witness that is exactly what happened that night. I don't know if she noticed or not, but thankfully she was too polite to say anything until I managed to gracefully slide my arm back up to the bench. Then Bettie kind of smiled at me. I didn't know if she was letting me off the hook for an embarrassing situation or what. At any rate, the fireworks were great, they were Dag's first fireworks and she loved the sparkles but not the loud noise.

Bettie would often take Dag out to look at the night sky through the telescope. One evening Bettie and Dag informed me the telescope wasn't working right, or Bettie didn't know how to use it right or something like that and would I please go out with Bettie and see what was wrong. So of course I did.

It was out of alignment and it took me all of two minutes to fix it up. Bettie insisted that I explain more about using it so that if it happened again, she could take care of it. So I began instructing her in the care, feeding, and proper use of using a three thousand dollar telescope. I have to say she was a fast learner, so fast in fact that I had my doubts as to whether I had really taught her anything.

When I put my hand on her shoulder to guide her in how best observe the moon I couldn't help but notice how soft and delicate she felt. At one point she asked me if I knew what a particular star was or whether it was a planet. So there I was looking through the telescope, then she would look, then I would look, and at one point we were almost looking together her face a mere fraction of an inch away from mine. And it was at that moment, that exact second in time, that I think I became fully aware of Bettie Knight, the woman. Maybe it was the perfume she was wearing, maybe it was how the light of the full moon reflected off of face, or how soft her shoulder had felt just seconds ago. But there she was, right next to me and I said, "That's a planet," rather hoarsely, and she looked over at me, her face mere inches away and almost whispered, "a planet?" and I was looking at her and I said, "Definitely a planet, Mars or something," and I think she said, "not Venus huh?" and I said, "no it's definitely mars, but I could be mistaken," and she said, "too bad, I was hoping it was Venus,” and then all I could do was gulp. I was feeling hot and flushed.

And then I said, "I think I hear Dag calling," and backed away from the telescope.

"Anyway, you should be able to show Dag what she wants to see." I said as I turned and walked quickly back towards the house. Of course I hadn't heard Dag calling at all. Being that close to the Bettie, I noticed things about her I had never noticed before and had for a brief second become unglued. . I chalked it up to two things. A full moon, and the fact that I suddenly realized I hadn't been out for a date since I had come back from Florida. It was the longest dry spell I had ever been through and it must have been taking its toll on me. By the time I got in the house, I had convinced myself that the whole incident had been just one of those things.

By the end of July, the construction had finally begun on the pool enclosure and the upstairs remodeling, so using the pool was out of the question. There had been no more incidents like the fourth of July or the telescope incident and things settled into a pattern of normalcy. Also at the end of July was Dag's sixth birthday as we had discovered from the birth certificate that had been in her handbag. I had worried for weeks as to what kind of present to buy for her. I wanted it to be special, something she would remember, and just when it seemed as if I would be unable to come up with something and was on the verge of asking Bettie for suggestions, it came to me. I still had my doubts about it though. Bettie tried to pry it out of me as to what it was, but this time I was going to either rise to the occasion or fall flat on my face on my own.

Bettie bought Dag a great big giant doll house, complete with all the furnishings.
Dag just loved it and showed it by giving Bettie a big hug and a kiss. I was really on the spot, especially since I hadn't had the foresight to buy her a toy. So when it came time for me to give her the present, I made her cover her eyes up. I would have to take her to see it. Dag was happy to oblige but Bettie kind of looked puzzle. The truth was that I had sneaked away for a few minutes during the celebration to put Dag's gift into her bedroom, well mainly because wrapping it hadn't occurred to me. I guess I still had a lot to learn.

So after leading her into her bedroom with her eyes closed I stood Dag where I wanted her, then had her open her eyes.

I gulped. This was the moment of truth. I watched as her eyes became as wide as marbles. Then she stood there in silence, not saying a word for a long time. "Yep, I thought," I screwed up big time again. Finally she turned and looked at me. A big smile adorned her face and I finally began to breath. Dag turned once again to look at her present.

Where the portrait of Susan had once hung was now a large portrait of Dag and her mother that I had made from the photo that had been inside the overnight bag. Gone was the ramshackle building in the background, replaced by a soft blue pattern, circled by a cloudy soft white edge. It did appear now as if Veronica was an angel looking over her daughter. Dag reached up to hug me, holding me tighter than she had that day at the pool if such a thing were possible.

"Thank you, daddy," she said softly. "It's the best present in the whole wide world, ever." And she hugged me even tighter, which was a good thing because it gave me time to wipe the tear that had formed in the corner of my eye.


When I stood up and Dag turned back to look at her picture, I whispered to Bettie, "Did I do okay?" And it was then that she leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, "You did better than that, a helluva lot better than that." And then she kissed me on my cheek, and as I had that night at the telescope I felt my cheeks turning crimson.

Throughout our lives, Bettie and I had exchanged literally thousands of friendly hugs. She had never kissed me not even in gratitude or in friendship. So when she did I was quite taken aback by it I tried chalking it up to the fact that it was the best way for her to show how pleased she was with Dag's gift. But then there was the time in the pool when she had fallen into me and I then had a sudden urge to hug her, the night at the telescope when we were within inches of each other and all the denying in the world didn’t change the fact that I had suddenly wanted to kiss her, forgetting the fact that I had watched her grown up from a child. It was all getting very weird.

The truth is, that Bettie had moved not only into our lives, she had had for all intents and purposes moved into the house. She had finally tired of going back and forth every evening and began bunking in with Dag. Dag loved it of course. As for myself, I had become so used to Bettie being there, that I had reached the point where I couldn't imagine her not being part of our lives. Whenever the thought that she would someday have to leave would enter my mind, I would chase it away, knowing how difficult that moment would be if and when that moment would ever come.

For her part, Bettie hadn't talked about college since before "The Swimming Pool Incident." Perhaps I was being unfair and selfish by expecting her to be with us all the time. She certainly seemed as happy as Dag and I were about the arrangement. So I never again asked her about her future plans, probably because I feared what the answer might be.

Often, Bettie and Dag would spend hours in her room playing games. Bettie had such an amazing tolerance and patience with Dag that it was as if they had this special wave length which only they could tune into. Many parents would get bored quickly playing doll house, or playing doctor with Mr. Bear as the patient, but not Bettie. It never seemed to bother her at all, and with each passing day my admiration for her knew no bounds.

One evening, when I knew it was near Dag's bedtime I started into Dag's room to tell her goodnight. Sometimes once Dag was in bed, Bettie and I would sit together in the living room to either watch Leno, Letterman, or a DVD.

I know it was probably wrong of me to stand outside and listen, but it gave me great enjoyment listening to the two of them talk. Sometimes they would just talk silly girl stuff, other times the conversations could be quite serious. It seemed as if Dag had a thirst for knowledge and was always asking a thousand questions. This evening proved to be no different.

"Bettie, you won't ever leave us will you?" I heard Dag ask her. Bettie didn't answer her at first. I knew she was struggling for an answer.

"I can't promise I will always be here, sweetie. Sometimes things happen that it's hard for little kids to understand."

"You mean like my mommy having to go up to heaven with my daddy?"

"Something like that," Bettie replied softly.

I could hear Dag climb up onto the bed and Bettie sitting next to her.


"Were you sad when your mommy had to go to heaven, Bettie?," Dag asked. "I was real sad and cried for a long time."

"Well, my first mommy and daddy went up to heaven when I was very little. Even younger than you are now Dag. Frank, my new daddy, told me a lot about them so it's almost as if I knew them, and I do have pictures of them, just like you have a picture of your mommy so you won't ever forget."

"Did you have a new mommy too?," Dag asked.

"Yes, for a while. She was very nice. She was like a mommy to me even though she wasn't my real mommy. Then God called her up to heaven too"

"I don't know why God needed both of your mommies, Bettie. Mommy always told me we wouldn't always understand about why God does things but he always has a reason. Do you think they are with my mommy and are watching us?"

"I'm sure of it Dag," she answered. "But I still have my second Daddy here. And now you have a second daddy in Joe so I guess he makes sure some of us aren't left alone."

Dag was quiet for a long time and I was about to enter the room when she spoke again. "If you had two mommies, Bettie, and now I have a new Daddy, can you be my mommy too?"

"I would love to be your mommy, Dag, but it's not that easy."

"You love me don't you Bettie?"

"Of course sweetie. But for you to have a new mommy it would have to be someone that Joe loves and wants to marry and be with forever and ever. But I love you as much as any mommy can."

"Don't you love, Joe? I bet he loves you."

"Yes, of course I do, Dag," she answered. Despite the fact that I knew she was struggling, she seemed to be doing remarkably well finding the right answers. I knew I should go in and interrupt the proceedings, but I had this overwhelming curiosity to hear Bettie’s answer.

"Will you always love him?," Dag asked.

"Yes Dag, I will," she answered.

"Then marry him and be my mommy."

Bettie let out a long breath. "Dag, sweetie, it's not that simple. There's different kinds of love. There's love like mothers have for their daughters, and there's love like little girls have for their dads and moms and brothers and sisters."

"Oh," Dag said as if she had suddenly grasped the whole concept in an instance. But she wasn't finished. "Well, I suppose I understand." I listened as Dag climbed off the bed to say her prayers. When she was finished, with blessing me and Bettie and the whole wide world, she was unusually silent until I heard her climb back up on the bed, and give Bettie a good night kiss. I was about to go in to get my hug and kiss from her when she spoke to Bettie again.

"I asked God for something special tonight, Bettie," Dag said. "Maybe he can help."

"What would that be," I could see Bettie kneeling next to her from the doorway.

"Well, I asked him go give you and Daddy that special kind of love so you could be my mommy."

Poor Bettie had suffered long enough. I hurried into the room as if I had just arrived on the scene. Bettie seemed a little flushed, but I acted as if I was completely unaware of what took place. I felt a little bit guilty about having listened and not having entered the room sooner.

It was several nights later that I was in my room, and having laid awake for a couple of hours unable to sleep I decided to head into the kitchen for a snack as I often did.

I was just about to enter the kitchen when I saw Bettie standing there. I didn't know whether to say something or to let her know I was there or try to sneak back into my room, but my feet seemed glued to the floor. She was fixing herself a snack, wearing only a short black negligee.

There once was a time that seeing a woman standing in a negligee would have made me only think of one thing. But as I stood there in the dark silently watching Bettie, what came to mind was beauty, grace, charm, innocence and youth. And then I had to kick myself a little, because the truth was that I had begun finding her very desirable, and that just wouldn’t do at all.

I felt like my life was spiraling into unchartered territory. My affection for her was growing, that much was unmistakable. Yet, I could only think that my feelings were born of gratitude and admiration for all she had given me, for all she had given Dag, and for bringing into my life a sense of caring, and a sense of meaning, things which only a few months earlier had been as foreign to me as if they were events that happened on a distant planet. If there had been no Bettie, I would have surely sent Dag on her way. If there had been no Bettie, I would have continued on with my life which consisted of nothing more than showing the woman of the week to my bedroom. Everything I was thinking, everything I was feeling was born out of this particular and special set of circumstances and was no more real than Dorothy’s land of Oz.


I had just about decided to sneak silently back to my bedroom when she suddenly turned around.

"Oh geezus, you scared the heck out of me," she said clutching her chest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I….um…uh….I couldn't sleep and thought I would fix myself a bite to eat.” I suddenly felt guilty, as if I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.

“I….I…Um…uh…didn't mean to startle you. I was about to go back to my room," I told her.

"Don’t be silly," she told me as I entered the kitchen. "Dag was restless tonight and kept kicking me so I got up to get something myself. Of course you know we shouldn't be eating this late at night."

"Well in that case, I'll skip breakfast to make up for it," I said. "I'm glad you're up. I feel like a little company right now." And the truth was, that despite all the misgivings I was feeling, I desired her company even more so.

"Well just let me slip something over this," she looked down at herself as if she suddenly realized what she was wearing. "I'll be right back." She hurried past me and I began heating up the pastries she had taken out of the refrigerator.

By the time the kid returned, I had finished toasting the pop tarts. She had thrown on a long three toned nightgown, but to me she looked every bit as lovely as she had in the negligee, and no less desirable. (“Dammit,” I told myself, “Stop thinking like that.”)

"Have a seat, breakfast will be served in just one minute," I told her in the worst snobby accent I could muster.

"Imagine, you waiting on me for a change! I do feel honored kind sir," she laughed.

I placed the plate down in front of her.

"Whatever milady desires. Her wish is my command! For tonight, I am here to serve thee and only thee."

"But alas, Sir Gallant, I fear that the spell will be broken at midnight, and my knight shall disappear forever," She told me bowing her head in mock servitude.

"Fear not, for I have confronted the wicked stepmother, the evil witch, the troll beneath the bridge, and I have forever broken the spell." Yeah it was bad but I was ad libbing the best that I could for three o'clock in the morning. "And I now place my own magic spell on you, and you shall forever remain young and beautiful and innocent."

Bette looked at me in mock horror. "To be forever young, forever beautiful is wonderful my handsome prince, but forever innocent? Shall I never wed? Shall I never have ten little royal knights of my own roaming through the palace."

I waved my hand over her head. "The spell is modified. The lady is now free to marry whomever she shall choose and which knight is foolish enough to sire ten little knights may God help him." We both were laughing as I sat down. It had been a bit of foolishness but it was fun foolishness.

I don't know how long we sat there talking. It may have been an hour it may have been two. She nagged me a bit about Frank and I being too stubborn to apologize to each other. Then we talked about Dag attending school soon. She seemed exceptionally bright but it made us both a bit nervous not knowing for sure what level she was at. We had taken her to the school to be tested but hadn't heard about the results yet. Yet, all during the conversation I noticed things about her I hadn't ever noticed before, things that had never mattered in my life when sizing up a woman, such as the way the deep pools of blue in her eyes danced when she smiled, how her cheeks always seemed so rosy with or without makeup, the way her hair was almost always perfectly in place and I wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. (Dammit! I was doing it again!)

I had to keep reminding myself that she was the kid, the kid that I had known for so long, the kid I had known as a child, the kid I had seen grow up. And that was the biggest problem of all.

She was no longer that kid I had always known, that used to argue with me just for the sake of argument, that used to give me friendly hugs goodbye or used to draw pictures with crayons for me. And just as sometimes I think she knew I was looking at her in a different way, I couldn’t help but wonder how she viewed me.

She finally got up to begin clearing the table, and being the helpful person that I was decided to give her a helping hand, despite the fact that there wasn't all that much to clean up. We both put the dishes into the dishwasher simultaneously and then we were standing there facing each other.

"I guess if we're going to get any sleep, we'd better do it now. Dag's an early riser and the sun will be coming up soon."

"I suppose you're right," I answered. The truth was that I didn't want the evening to end. I wanted it to continue on forever.

It was then that I took her hand. It felt soft and warm.

"Thank you," I said softly.

She looked at me as if she were a bit puzzled. "For what?" she asked.

"For everything," was all I said. I think she blushed as she smiled but to me a simple thank you would never be enough. When I \ released her hand, I thought I felt it tremble but then she smiled at me, that warm caring friendly smile I had grown so fond of.

Later, as I lay in my bed I was restless. I would be restless for many nights to come.

A few days later, still unable to use the pool as the construction workers continued with their work, and the threat of rain hanging over the valley, Dag managed to entice the kid into teaching her a few dance steps as I watched from the couch. I can't say I cared too much for the music, as anything that had been burned onto CD's in the past ten years made me cringe. Yet as I sat on the couch, I couldn't help but be amused despite the music blasting out of the stereo.

Bettie would show Dag some moves and Dag would try to copy them the best that she could. Now I'm no great dance judge, but there was no doubt that when it came to dancing, it was just another thing that Bettie seemed to excel at. She had been very popular in high school and it was easy to see why.

And of course, Dag as always was an apt pupil copying the moves verbatim.

Every once in a while, Bettie would correct her and tell her just being able to do the moves was one thing, but you had to feel the music to move to it. Finally after a few minutes of trying to master a particularly frustrating step, Dag came over to where I was pretending to read the newspaper.

"Your turn to dance, daddy," she said.

I had to squirm out of this one. "Uh...Daddy's don't dance." was the only lame excuse I could think of. Of course it didn't work as Dag grabbed my arm and pulled me up to the floor. Bettie saw the humor in it all but I didn't. My best dance moves had always come about after the fourth or fifth vodka martini. So the three or us began to dance, seeing as how I now had the minority vote of one in the house. I don't think I impressed the kid or Dag with my steps. Dag looked at me as if I would step on her feet at any moment. Finally Dag quit dancing.

"I think you better teach daddy for a while, Bettie," Dag told her. Bettie about fell on the floor laughing. "He dances like he plays Twinkle Twinkle little star." Ouch! Dag's worse insult, but I took it in stride and turned toward Bettie.

"So, teach me," I told her, "So my daughter won't have to live in shame."

As Dag watched from the couch, Bettie did begin to teach. She said I had the rhythm and the right moves, but I used them as if I had rusted joints. My initial hesitation had dissolved, and I was putty in her hands. After a while she begin to nod her approval as I began to relax.

"Not too bad, not bad at all," she told me. "I didn't think you had it in you." Frankly, I didn't think I had it in me either. I couldn't ever remember having danced stone cold sober, and perhaps it was my dance partner, but I was enjoying myself immensely. At one point, Bettie turned and winked at Dag who smiled back at her.

I don't know for sure how long we danced, but I tried to do one too many fancy moves and stumbled a bit. And that's when Bettie grabbed my hands in an effort to help me keep my balance.

“Thanks,” I told her still clutching her hand.

And as she held my hands in her, we just stood there, the music still blasting in the background but we had become oblivious to it. So many thoughts, so many feelings raced through my head. I don't know how long we stood there.

"Your hands are trembling," she said softly. I hadn't noticed the trembling in my fingertips until she spoke, almost in a whisper.

"Yeah," was all I could manage? "Maybe, I'm a little bit out of shape." But I continued to stand there even as I quickly pulled my hands away.

"I think I need some air, to cool off. That was more of a workout than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, uh....I think I'll take Dag...outside...to....the pond." Bettie seemed to suddenly be out of breath herself. I turned to hurry outside. I had never smoked in my life, but suddenly I had an uncontrollable urge for a cigarette. My heart was racing, my thoughts were a mess. And to make matters worse outside was the gardener, Erika Jayapalan, who had this bad habit of looking through windows while pretending to trim my bushes, which went a long way to explaining why they always seemed to be in a state of overgrowth. She wasted no time.

"Getting kind of cozy in there, wasn't it?" I didn't know if she was asking a question, offering commentary or both.

"She was just giving me a few dance lessons," I offered, but I knew that wasn't what Erika was talking about.

"Hrmmmph, right," she shot back at me. "And I'm Princess Anne and my palace is right down the street. Gardening is just a hobby with me. Take it from someone who's been around the block a few times, you had better be careful."

"Ahhh....we were just dancing, that's all there was. Don't let your imagination run away with you, Erika. She's just a kid."

Erika let out a big guffaw at that statement. "Bettie is no more a kid than the man in the moon is so don't try that with me. She's every bit a grown woman, and from the short time I've known her, she's more of a woman than any of those bimbos you used to haul in and out of here."

"Great, just great, Erika. That's all I need right now is for you to remind me of my sordid past."

"What I'm trying to tell you Mr. Blockhead, and it's not just from witnessing one little hand holding session is that Bettie thinks the sun rises and sets on your ass. Why? I don't know. The fact is though that she does. All I'm saying is don't let it go too far before she falls so much in love with you that there's no turning back."

"Ahhh, I'm like her big brother to her. I even heard her tell Dag that just the other night." In fact, I knew what I had just said wasn't true. Bettie had never answered Dag's question about love directly but had managed to sidestep it when she talked about there being different kinds of love. “Bettie in love with me? That’s totally ridiculous, Erica.”

"You just keep telling yourself that Mister. You don't have to convince me of anything. The only person you have to convince is yourself. Could it be? Could the great bachelor be falling for the young lady himself?"

"Ahhh...," I told her. "If you spent as much time working on my shrubs as you spend sticking your nose in my business, this place might begin to look like something. The word love isn’t even in my dictionary.”

"Let me tell you something, buddy boy. If you would quit being so emotionally retarded you could open your eyes and see it. But you can't see it because you don't want to, and worse than that you can't even admit what your own feelings might be. I'll trim your shrubs, but if you do anything, anything at all to hurt that girl, I can guarantee you I'll be using my trimmers on something other than shrubs."

I just turned and walked away. Erika was simply being a busybody. She was a romantic who was seeing things that not only weren’t there but things that dwelled in the fairy tale land of impossibility. The whole idea was ridiculous. The Kid and me? Geez....I mean I was nearly twice her age, although it occurred to me that I had often dated women who were just hitting their early twenties and the kid would be nineteen soon......and...

"I had better get a grip on myself," I thought. "The whole idea was absurd. Ridiculous. No, I was just her big brother, her uncle, her friend. Any thoughts of anything other than that had to be squashed, like a grape."

I managed to push the events of the day and Erika's comments to the back of my mind. The problem was that space I kept pushing those thoughts into was getting terribly crowded. It helped that weekend when Nick came over to pay us a visit. He would often stop over a couple of times a week for dinner. Dag looked forward to it as he gave her severe competition in the video game department. Bettie had seen less and less of her brother over the past several months and began to look forward to his visits.

It was after dinner that Nick dropped the big bomb. He had enlisted in the Marines. To say Bettie was surprised is an understatement. Severe shock would have been a more appropriate term. I had remembered that long ago the kid herself had given thoughts of joining some branch of service, but except for that one time the subject had never come up again.

From the day that Shelley had died Bettie had been far more than Nick's adopted sister. At an early age she had made herself his protector and caretaker. Frank had often told me that she was sometimes a better parent to Nick than he himself was.

“Bettie’s a natural nester,” Frank once told me. “She’s got the brain power to do practically anything she wants, but I could almost see her settling down and having ten kids.” Now, just like she had grown into womanhood, Nick had grown into a man, making his own decisions and standing on his own two feet.

Yet, I could tell she had misgivings. Nick had always been clumsy growing up, and the thought that he might end up in Iraq or Afghanistan frightened her. But she knew it was his decision and though she voiced her fear to him, Bettie knew it was time to let go.

Nick also told us that he would be leaving for basic training right after Thanksgiving and that Frank and Arcadia wanted to be sure that Bettie was going to be there also, and Arcadia wanted to meet Dag. Then Nick turned to me.

"I want you to be there too," he said.

I shook my head negatively. "I don't think so Nick. Your father and I haven't spoken to each other in months. I don't think it would be a good idea."

"I don't care," he answered. "I want you there. It's bad enough that you missed our graduation."

"I'll think about it," was all I said and left it at that. But I think Bettie knew as well as I did that I wouldn't be going. "If I don't go, Bettie can take Dag with her though. I've never been much of one for holidays anyway." That was true, but the fact was that for the first time in my life I had been looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with Bettie and Dag.

I resigned myself to spending it alone once again. I knew Dag would have a better time surrounded by Bettie and her family then spending the day alone with me. After dinner Bettie grew quiet, so Nick, Dag and I returned to the living room where Dag talked about how much she looked forward to going to a real school with other kids. And Nick spent a lot of time asking her about life at the mission. It was sad that they were becoming such good friends with Nick soon to be leaving for the service.

As Nick prepared to leave, Bettie went outside alone with him. I could see them from the window and they talked for a long while. Afterwards, they hugged each other for a long time until finally Nick began walking towards home and Bettie stood there watching until he was out of sight. Before she came back into the house I saw her wiping a tear from her eye. It seemed as if time was moving too quickly for all of us.

As if the year hadn't brought enough changes, there soon came the incident which we later referred to as "The Time We Went to the Dodgers Game.” Not to mention that when someone first coined the phrase it's a small world, we discovered they weren't just whistling Dixie.

Having rented a car for the three hour trip, I decided it was time Dag finally experienced first hand the joys of Dodger Stadium so she would feel more of a part of Bettie's and my own preoccupation with baseball. As luck would have it, it was also team photo day so we were able to take Dag onto the field and see the players up close and personal instead of images on a TV screen. Not to mention how much Bettie and I were excited about it.

And so it was on one sunny Saturday afternoon, we walked onto the crowded outfield of Dodger stadium to mingle with greatness, along with 20 or thirty thousand other fans of course. We managed to find an older couple who was willing to preserve the moment for posterity by taking a picture with the digital camera we had brought. So there we were, standing there waving at the camera, smiles plastered on our faces. When I saw the pictures I told Bettie we looked like we were on hiatus from the Brady Bunch TV show. I think she smacked me with her program. At any rate, it was a great day, a great game, the Dodgers pulling it out again in extra innings, and even Dag seemed to get into all the yelling and screaming in the bottom of the tenth inning. After leaving the game we decided to stop off at a little Italian Restaurant called Vittorio's.

We sat down and ordered our food. Bettie ordered spaghetti, I ordered lasagna and Dag as usual wanted a hamburger. Dag had suddenly developed a great interest in baseball and was asking the usual questions of someone new to the game such as why did they do that and why did they do this, not to mention that she brought up how cute one of the ballplayers we had met on the field was. That's what she was going on about when from the other side of the restaurant I heard a strangely familiar giggle, and a strange loudly familiar voice.

"Oh no, it can't be," I thought to myself. "Not here, not now, not in L.A." I turned my head slowly to look where the voice was coming from hoping it was just someone who sounded like her. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and my past was about to jump out and bite me once again.

In the far corner of the restaurant sat Charlene from Massachusetts whom I had met at the Bimbo Farm Hotel. I suddenly lost my appetite, and sunk down as far as I could in my seat hoping she wouldn't spot us.

"All of a sudden I'm not really hungry," I whispered to Bettie. "Let's go."

"Don't be silly. We already ordered the food, we can't just leave." she told me.

"We can get hamburgers at In & Out Burger," I told her. “Hell, if it’s good enough for Paris Hilton, its good enough for us.” I turned again to peek back at Charlene and her date, and realize my plan for escaping had come too late.

Charlene was already walking toward our table, and pointing at me.

"WHY JOE BAKER, JOE BAKER FROM FLORIDA," she said it loud enough so that I'm sure the fans still stuck in the traffic trying to get out of Chavez Ravine could hear her along with any of the stars interred at Forest Lawn.. There was no doubt that Dag and the kid heard her as they turned to look at her.

"What are you doing out here in California of all places? I never expected to run into you out here. Why I've done nothing but think about you since I left Florida." I couldn't help but cringe. I wanted to crawl under the table.

"I live out here, Charlene. I thought you lived in Maine, so the question should be what brings you out here to California?"

Charlene gave us the worst possible rendition of her grating giggle. "Why, aren't you just the funniest thing! I don't live in Maine, I live in Maryland. Well I should say lived in Maryland. I’m living out here now"

"Oh! That M State," I replied and Bettie gave me a puzzled look. I simply mouthed the words, “Never mind,” and shook my head.

"Why I thought you owned that hotel, in Florida" Charlene told me.

I could be accused of being absent minded at times but there were absolutely two things I was sure of. I had never once so much as suggested in any way shape or form that I owned the Bimbo Farm.

And I was also certain that I had told her several times that I lived in California. I didn’t know why she had moved out to California, and I didn’t really care. Charlene found it necessary to voluntarily fill me in on the details.

" I thought I might come out here and try my hand at some modeling, Joey!" She told me. I began looking around for a sand pit to bury myself in. There wasn't one. Dag was staring at Charlene, then she turned to stare at me, then she turned to stare at Bettie, then back to look at Charlene. I didn't particularly want to look at Bettie's face right now but I had the distinct impression that I wouldn't have liked what I saw.

"And who is this sweet, little child," she said speaking directly to Bettie. "Why aren't you just the cutest little thing?" I turned my head to make sure it was Bettie she was speaking to and not Dag. Unfortunately, it was. I had no choice but to offer introductions.

"Charlene, this is my friend Bettie, and this is my daughter, Dag."

"Why Joey Baker, you didn't tell me you had a daughter. Why, you're just full of secrets aren't you darling!" She turned to Dag and grabbed her by the chin. "And my you are such a sweet little baby girl aren't you."

Now it was Dag's turn to make a face. I doubt if there would be more than a handful of people in this world that Dag would never truly like, but she had just met one of them.

Charlene turned back toward Bettie.

"And you are such a lovely child also," she told Bettie. "And such beautiful hair, but you must let me give you the name of a stylist to show you what to do with it. And they can teach you some wonderful things about makeup there!"

I certainly saw trouble brewing on the horizon now. I dared to sneak a peek over at Bettie, and the look on her face said it all. She was biting her lower lip trying to control herself.

"And of course you can visit the stylist too, baby," she said turning back to Dag. It would have been easy to chalk all this up to Charlene's ignorance, but somehow I knew better. She was exactly what she had been in Florida, only at that time things her being rude, arrogant and stupid hadn’t mattered to me. Now they did. Especially since Dag had always taken pride in having her hair being styled just like Bettie's.

"And I'm sure that Joey would just love to take you to some of the finer dress shops on Rodeo Drive while you're here. I can recommend several of those to help you out."

Bettie could stand it no longer, and rose from her chair to face Charlene. Dag's eyes got as big as saucers.

"Why dahling," Bettie told her. It was obvious she was mocking Charlene and in my opinion was doing a pretty good job of it. "Aren't you just the most sweetest helpful sincere and obliging little thing. We just may go on that little shopping spree. But really, I'll skip the stylist. I'm not into having to pry off my makeup with a jackhammer yet. It surprises me that Joey here would pick his dates from fantasy land in Disneyland." Oooops, that was a zinger directed at both Charlene and me. “Or did you say you met him at a plastic surgeon’s convention? I was just wondering because of your nose”

"Will you take me to Disneyland?" Dag whispered. "Someday soon," I whispered back to her, "Shhhhh."

“Well, I’m not getting a haircut,” Dag replied as she turned to watch the show.

"Why honey, there's no need to be rude. I was just trying to help you improve yourself so you can find a nice young boyfriend someday." That did it. I hid my eyes. There would be no holding either one of them back now.

"Sweetie, I don't need a thousand dollar makeup job, a half a gallon of hair coloring along with 10,000 dollar boob implants and a nose job a to find me a guy," Bettie said. "And there's one other thing I don't have to do to get a guy, something that I'm sure you're very good at."

"And just what might that be?" Charlene asked.

Bettie raised her finger and put it directly into Charlene's face, emphasizing each word as she said it.

"I don't have to take off my clothes and spread my legs, something else I'm sure you're an expert at" And with that Bettie simply turned and headed towards the exit.

Yep, it was time to go. I grabbed Dag's hand practically yanking her out of the chair and pushing her towards Bettie who had already reached the doorway while she protested that she hadn't finished eating yet.

"I'll buy you an ice cream," I told her as she started running towards Bettie out of the restaurant. "Uh...it was nice seeing you again, Charlene," I told her as I threw some money on the counter, "Even if you are kind of a bitch." And with that I quickly hurried after Bettie and Dag, leaving Charlene standing there with her mouth hanging wide open like a codfish.

We made our way outside to the car, giving Charlene no chance to recover. By the time we reached the parking lot both Bettie and Dag were fuming and I half expected the car door window to shatter as she slammed the door closed. If she were a dragon, she'd have been breathing fire.

And she didn't let me off the hook either. It was going to be a long drive home.

"I swear," she told me as I pulled out on the highway. "I for the life of me can't understand what you saw in that little slut. Well, yeah I can too, the same thing every guy sees in a woman like that."

"Daddy," Dag chimed in, "I didn't like that lady. And what’s a slut?"

"Never mind, Dag, and thank you for your input. You are really being helpful." I answered her.

"You're welcome," Dag said as if it were a fact.

"Now don't you start blaming Dag for your lack of taste," Bettie told me. "Men are all alike. All through high school every guy I dated it was the same thing. Baby, I need you, Baby I want you so bad it hurts, Baby, if you love me you'll do it, Baby if I don't get it it'll ruin me for life….blah blah blah"

"Look, I'm sorry that happened," I answered her. "What can I say? I can't undo all the things I've done. You know how I was. I just never gave a damn. If I had to do it all over again I wouldn't, but I did it and now I've paid for it and I'll probably always be paying for it. Somewhere along the way another Charlene is going to pop up. I can't run away and hide"

Now I was beginning to get upset and Bettie could sense it. I had to face the realization that I would never escape my past. I couldn't even count how many Charlene's there might be out there waiting to pop up at inopportune moments.

"I know that!" Bettie explained. "It doesn't bother me that you slept with someone so shallow. Hell, you are a man and like most men you sometimes let that thing between your legs do your thinking for you. I know there's probably a few hundred women out there that you’ve been with. I just hope you had better taste than that at least some of the time. And what was all that nonsense she was spouting about me being such a "sweet dahling child" when she couldn't be more than 22 herself?"

"And I'm not a baby anymore either," Dag added her two cents again.

"I agree with you, she was obnoxious and rude. Maybe she was jealous," I added.

"Of what?" Bettie asked.

"Figure it out," I told Bettie. "She had no way of knowing what our relationship was to each other. She was stupid enough to think I owned the hotel and maybe she saw failure in the fact that she couldn't get her money grubbing paws into me."

"And before you ask I never once told her I owned that hotel."

Bettie chuckled at that and then fell silent as if she didn't know what to say. So I continued talking, hoping either to save my ass or if I said the wrong things to bury it once and for all.

"If you want the truth, I don't know why I slept with her that first week in Florida. No, I take that back. I do know. I was trying to forget the whole Susan business and the business with your father. After I had slept with her, I regretted it. I found her to be totally obnoxious, and wondered myself what I was doing. I was in Florida for almost another month after Charlene left and I didn't sleep with another woman while I was there and I certainly could have. I'm changing Bettie, I'm trying to change, but at some point in time the things I've done are going to jump up and bite me on the butt."

Bettie turned to look at me. She was almost smiling.

"Do you really think she was jealous?" she asked me. A smile crossed my own face.

"Yeah, take it from someone who knows. She was jealous." And for some reason that thought seemed to please Bettie immensely and I was amused more about that than anything else. The ride home wasn't so long after all.

It was just a few days later that Bettie and I were sitting watching a DVD. Dag had gone down the street to play with some of the friends she had made in the neighborhood. I thought Bettie had been acting strange all morning. I thought it was even stranger when the doorbell rank and she jumped up like a cat to go answer it.

A few seconds later she returned to the living room. "There's somebody here who wants to talk to you," she said.

I had no sooner got up from the chair, when Frank appeared from around the corner. Bettie hurriedly turned and walked out of the room saying she had to check on some things outside.

Frank and I stood there looking at each other for the longest time. I suddenly realized how much I had missed seeing him, our nights out, our chess games, and our conversations.

"How've you been, Frank," I finally asked trying to break the ice.

"Just fine. Things are going good. How about you?"

"Couldn't be better, Frank. I guess you've heard about Dag."

"Yeah, lately you and Dag are all that Bettie talks about when she comes over. Where is Dag?"

"She's over visiting some friends. I wish she was here so you could meet her," and I was completely sincere in saying so.

Frank looked down at the carpet as if he were searching for the right words to say. I knew what they would be, and I could sense that this whole thing was being staged by two cohorts known as Arcadia and Bettie. He started to speak, and I stopped him.

"If you're here to apologize Frank, I can't accept it." he looked at me as if he were getting angry so I spoke quickly. "The fact is Frank, the only person that owes anyone an apology is me. I was a total jerk that night at Arcadia's. All you did was speak the truth. It's always been the truth. You know it and I know it. I guess that's what made me angrier than anything. The fact that you were right and I didn't want to face it. I wish I could take back everything I said and did that night, if it were possible. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am that it happened."

Frank was silent for a long time. I'm sure this was something he hadn't expected. I had guessed right away that Arcadia, Bettie, and Nick had nagged him into coming over, and to please them he would have apologized, despite the fact that he hadn't done any wrong to me.

He shook his head and smiled. "I'm not sure I'm at the right house. Bettie said you had changed. I guess having to take care of a kid will do that sometimes. And whether I was speaking the truth or not that night doesn't matter. It wasn't my place to criticize you. So you're not going to let me off the hook that easily."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Okay," I said, "we were both out of line, but I was more out of line than you were. How's that?"

"Sounds good to me," Frank said. Then he thought for a second. “Where's the chess board? How about a game? I haven't played in months."

"Neither have I," I told him. "It's still out by the pool. Wait until you see this new partition I had put in. You go on ahead I'll be right there." Frank headed for the pool area. As for myself, I turned and walked to the living room window and hollered outside.

"You two peeping toms can quit looking now," I hollered out at Erica and Bettie who were standing looking in the window. I was laughing as I headed back to the chess table.

It was a warm late August day when the first day of school finally started. The test results had finally told us what we were already sure of. Dag was already at a second grade level in everything even though she was only old enough for the first grade. That made me one proud papa and Bettie was quite pleased with it also. Still, we were a couple of nervous ninnies when it came time for Dag to depart for school. Not Dag though, she couldn't wait to be going to a real school.

She hurriedly gave me a hug and a kiss. Then turned to give the same to Bettie. We watched as she boarded the bus and stood there watching for the longest time even after the Bus had completely disappeared down the street. For the first time in months, the house felt completely empty.

Bettie and I went into the house and tried watching TV, but neither one of us were sure what to do with our selves. I finally asked if she wanted to go for a walk through Pagoda Park, instead of sitting there nervously like a couple of old hens. She thought that was an excellent idea.

We had no sooner arrived at the park then Bettie took off running for the swing set, and hopped in. I stood watching her amused for a while until she hollered at me.

"The lady needs a push," she said laughing. I was happy to oblige.

I never knew any adult who could get such great pleasure out of the simple act of sitting on a swing and flying through the air. The kid seemed to enjoy seeing how high she could go and on a couple of occasions looked ready to soar right out of the seat. Bettie had this thing about holding her head back, letting the wind blow across her face, letting her hair fly backwards, as if she was as carefree as the day she was born. She seemed so young to me at moments like this, perhaps, too young. Or maybe I had just grown too old.

"Higher," she would yell at me laughing. And I would push her harder. As much as she was getting enjoyment out of it, it may have been surpassed by my own pleasure of watching her, and pushing the swing until she was as high as she could go. Eventually she jumped out of the swing and stood there looking at me for a second.

Then she briefly took my hand and we started to walk through the park. Sometimes we would stop just to admire the craftsmanship and care taken in building it, and the wondrous beauty surrounding us.

Sometimes I would just stand and look at her. The park was beautiful, but in my eyes it did not match what I saw when I looked at the kid. And then she turned to look at me, and she was smiling, and in my eyes it was the perfect smile, not even eclipsed by Mona Lisa herself.

"My hands are cold," she said handing them to me.

And then I took her hands and held them, as she had held mine that day we had danced. They weren't cold at all but as soft, warm and tender as I remembered them. I wanted to pull her towards me; to hold her forever and never let her go. I sensed that she wanted me to. It was time, time for me to make a move. I knew she wanted me to. But still, even in that moment when I desired her so much, when I wanted to hold her close to me, I could not move. It was a moment in time, unlike any I had experienced. I, the person who had always been so sure of himself, was now the schoolboy unable to do anything. But she smiled at me knowingly, as if she knew I was still struggling, trying to find a way to come to terms with what was happening. And finally the spell was broken, but still we stood there, until finally she turned and started running with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Race you to the top," she yelled at me. I grinned and took off after her. Of course eventually we reached the top, and we stood there looking down at the world below us. And we talked, we talked about the past, we talked about how our lives had changed. At one point she took out a penny, closed her eyes and then threw it into the water below. The theory was that if you threw a penny from the highest tower into the water surrounding the pagoda, then your wish could come true.

"What did you wish for," I asked her.

She smiled at me. "If you tell it won't come true."

And finally we descended from the tower to continue our walk, oblivious to the rest of the world, and oblivious to the fact that for a long time, Arcadia had been standing below watching us. It was time to go home, as Dag would be returning from school.


By the time Thanksgiving arrived, I had put the day in the park behind me. As planned, we had spent the day with Frank and Arcadia. After dinner we were sitting on the couch, conversing when Nick turned on the stereo.

"Dance with me, Dag," He told her. "Bettie says you're an excellent dancer." Dag was more than happy to oblige and jumped up off the couch.

It was obvious that dance moves didn't run in the family. Nick was awkward but he did his best to please Dag. The four of us sat and watched them go through the paces. Dag, of course, was as always the courteous one, telling Nick what a good dancer he was.

Then she turned to look at us. "Daddy and Bettie are good dancers. Come on daddy, you and Bettie dance!"

Remembering what had happened the last time I gracefully declined. But Frank, perhaps eager to see me make a fool of myself urged me on.

"Ahh, go ahead and make her happy. You two get up and dance."

Not wanting to be a spoilsport, I shrugged my shoulders and led Bettie to the stereo.

We had no sooner started dancing when the song changed to a slow one. Nick and Dag had quit dancing and Bettie and I were just about to go back to our seats. That wasn't going to happen though.

"Dance to the slow one, Daddy," Dag said. "I've never seen you dance to the slow ones."

I reached down to take Bettie's hands.

I looked at her for a second and she nodded encouragement. I gulped and then I pulled her toward me. She rested her hands on my shoulder and we began to dance, at first being careful to keep at a safe distance. But as the music continued I suddenly found myself holding her tightly in my arms without realizing I had pulled her so close to me. Moments Later, she rested her head on my shoulder, and it was she who held me even tighter if such a thing were possible. From that point on I was oblivious to everything around me, the music, and the world, everything except the girl I held close to me. My heart was beating fast, but I could feel hers beating faster, harder, louder.

There was no more denial. No more reasons not to. I loved her. I loved her with every cell in my being. I had always been the one to scoff at the notion of being in love, but now I was caught in its grasp forever.

It was how I should have held her at Pagoda Park, and had lacked the courage to do so. The music continued to play, and I was hoping, praying that it would never stop. I love her, and it was not the kind of love one has for a brother, a sister, an uncle and an aunt, or any relative. It was the special kind of love she had spoken to Dag about. And, I knew I had loved her for a long time, and that I would always love her. And without asking, without her ever having said so, I knew in my heart that she loved me with that same special love.

And finally the music stopped but we danced for a second until the voice of the DJ broke the spell. We did not part. Instead she looked up at me, and I at her. Then without caring, without thinking, oblivious to wear we were, I moved my mouth slowly toward her lips, where they came within a whisker of making contact. But Dag’s voice broke the spell, jerking us quickly back to reality and causing us to break quickly apart,
"WOW!," Dag's voice said. "You dance slow better than anybody!"

"Unbelievable!" Nick added.

Bettie began blushing and so did I. Nick, Arcadia, and Dag had been standing watching us. Frank had thankfully, gone upstairs and hadn't witnessed the outcome of the dance. But there was no denying to them what they had just seen. I reluctantly let go of Betty's hands.

"I think I'll go out and get some air, it's a little warm in here," it was all I could think of to say at the moment.

"I...I...think I'll help Arcadia clean," Betty said rushing off to the kitchen that had already been cleaned up for a couple of hours. I hurried out the door, and took several deep breaths. I went to sit on the same bench where eight months earlier, Frank, Arcadia, Bettie and I had sat, when we had learned of their marriage. It wasn't long before Arcadia followed me outside and sat next to me, just as I suspected she would.

She wasted no time in getting to the point.

"Bettie's very much in love with you," she said.

"Yes, I know," I answered her.

"Have you told her that you are in love with her?"

"No, no I haven't. I guess it was pretty obvious in there wasn't it?"

"Well, sonny, I wasn't born yesterday. I kind of suspected there was something between you. I saw the two of you at Pagoda Park. Both of you were oblivious to me and anything else going on around you."

"I didn't see you there, but I guess I wouldn't have," I told her.

"The question is, what do you do now, Joe Baker? When are you going to tell her how you feel?"

I could tell by the look on Arcadia's face that she was building up to something.

"I think she knows, I haven't said the words and I've never so much as dared to kiss her. I've spent more time denying my feelings about her than anything else."

"Well, if it wren’t for Dag, that kissing business would have been taken care of. You have to tell her. She just can't love you continuously without you doing something about it," Arcadia said pointedly. “She may suspect that you love her, but she’ll never know for sure until you can say the words to her.”

I stood up. "I don't know, I don't know if this should happen," I told her.

"I don’t' understand," Arcadia replied. "Why should the fact that you are in love with her be a problem?"

"Because of my past. How can I ask her to stay with me when the things I've done are always going to be there. I can't make them go away. Can I ask her to live with that, to have to deal with that? We already had one embarrassing moment, how many more will there be before it ends up hurting her, or destroying her. How can I ask the person I love to deal with it? And though she may not think so, it will hurt her badly in the end and I couldn't stand that. And let's not forget that I'm nearly twice her age. She's young still; maybe she's not sure of what she wants."

Arcadia laughed at that. "I'm fifteen years older than Frank, and if we had let that bother us we never would have gotten together. If you’re worried what people might think, what people might say, then you're not the man I thought you were. You're right about your past. You can't change it but you can't let it haunt you for the rest of your life either. You underestimate Bettie. Frank told me that if it hadn't been for her, when Shelley was killed both he and Nick would never have made it. Bettie has been through a lot. There is nothing she can't handle. She lost her parents, and then lost her mother again. How many people could go through that and handle it the way Bettie has? She is wise beyond her years, Joe. If her love for you is as strong as I think it is, she'll be able to cope."

Arcadia started to walk back toward the house, and then she turned back for a moment. "And from what I heard, she handled a little lady; I think she said her name was Charlene, quite well." Arcadia winked at me and went back into the house, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

I was unaware as Arcadia and I had stood there talking that Nick and Bettie stood silently watching us through the window.

Despite what Arcadia had said I still wasn't sure what to do. I now hated the fact that I had spent most of my life the way I did. For the first time in my life I was in love, and the things I had done were holding me back, keeping me from shouting to the world how much in love I was.

As Bettie had once said all of us make mistakes in our life and all we can do is learn from them and move on. The only problem is no matter how much we learn, how sorry we are, those mistakes we made will always be there. The truth is, sometimes learning and being sorry is enough to correct those mistakes. At other times they are not, and that was what I was most fearful of. As it turned out, I was right to be fearful, for as it turned out my biggest mistake was about to catch up to me forever.

On the Monday morning after Thanksgiving, I had decided to take Bettie some place special where we could openly and privately talk about our feelings. I knew she was waiting for me to make the first move, and rightfully so. It was about six a.m. when the phone started ringing.

Bettie was helping Dag get ready for school, so I pulled myself out of bed to go answer it.

"Hello," I answered hoping it wasn't a telemarketer.

"Hello, is this the Baker residence?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yes it is," I replied, "How can I help you?"

"Would I be speaking to Joe Baker?"

"Yes, speaking," I replied again. I was becoming impatient.

"You don't know me," the voice continued then hesitated for a second. "My Name is Jay, Jay Daggett. I'm a friend of Susan Dale....and I'm her attorney." he added.

I almost dropped the phone. "Susan! My god, how is she? Where is she? Why hasn't she gotten a hold of me?" It troubled me immediately that I was getting a call from an attorney even if he said he was a friend of Susan's.

"Joe, is it okay if I call you Joe?"

"Certainly," I was becoming more impatient.

"Mr. Baker, I am calling you as Susan's friend. If what I am doing became known, I could be disbarred. I was under specific orders from Susan not to call you."

"Mr. Daggett, is there something wrong. You need not worry, I won't tell anybody about your phone call."

Daggett paused for a long time then seemed to take a deep breath.

"Joe, Susan is dying." Dying? That was impossible. Not Susan. Surely this was a hideous joke of some kind. I felt the air rush out of me as if Apollo Creed had punched me solidly in the gut.

"Joe, are you there?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," I whispered hoarsely.

"Joe, Susan has a child. A newborn. It's your child, Joe."

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