Flirting with Fifty

Week thirteen of the semester was flying by. Paige couldn’t believe Thanksgiving was next week. She’d had a call about Thanksgiving from Michelle, who wasn’t going to be coming home as she’d be spending it with her boyfriend, Garrett, and his kids. “It’s his year to have the kids,” Michelle explained. “He wants me there. I’ve never done a turkey before. It’ll be my first time.”

“Are you making Thanksgiving dinner, or is he?”

“I offered. He was delighted. He’s not very comfortable in the kitchen.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, thinking unkind thoughts about this man who was so eager to turn Michelle into kitchen help. She wished he didn’t want Michelle to cook. She wished he didn’t need Michelle there while he spent time with his kids. She wished he didn’t have these huge holes in his life that he needed her daughter to fill. But what did she know? She’d never met him, and maybe he was a wonderful man. Maybe he was the perfect person for her beautiful, intelligent, kind, compassionate daughter.

“Oh, and Dad’s going to be in Los Angeles for Thanksgiving,” Michelle added. “I guess he’s going to take Ashley to dinner? At least that’s what he told me.”

“When did you talk to him?”

“Last week. He called about Gram’s eightieth birthday. He’s hoping we’ll get together and surprise her in Orlando.”

“He’s taking Gram to Disney World?”

“No. Maybe it’s not Orlando, but it’s somewhere in Florida. He wants to rent some condos and make it a big family get-together. He said I could bring Garrett, but I don’t think Gram would approve.”

“Probably not. But she would love to see you all.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up, and Paige forgot the conversation until she was home with Ashley that evening. “Have you talked to your dad about Thanksgiving?” Paige asked, turning down the heat under the chicken. She was making fajitas with a new low-carb tortilla, hoping it would taste good.

Ashley leaned against the counter. “Why would I have talked to him about it?”

“I thought he was going to be in LA for the weekend. I wondered if he had made plans to see you.”

She shrugged. “He’d texted something about being in LA, but we’ve made no plans. He’s coming out here to see a woman he met at on a plane a couple months ago. He calls her his girlfriend, but she’s like thirty years younger than him. It’s gross.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he sent me pictures.” Ashley shuddered. “He looks like her dad. She’s Michelle’s age, I think. Just two months older. Doesn’t that seem weird to him?”

It seemed weird to Paige, but she wouldn’t say it aloud. Instead she counted to five, and only spoke when she was certain she could keep her tone neutral. “I think your dad does want to see you. He wouldn’t have texted if he didn’t.”

“Then why doesn’t he come here to see me in Orange County? Why do I have to drive to LA?”

“You can use my car.”

“That’s not the point, Mom.”

Paige knew that, too. She knew what Ashley was objecting to was that her father had not made any effort to see her, not in New York, and not in California, at least not until now, when he had another reason to come to Southern California.

“He’s probably convinced his new girlfriend that he’s this great guy, and a wonderful dad—” Ashley broke off, compressed her lips, unable to finish the sentence. “It’s part of his act. He should have been the actor, not me.”

“Dad’s not a happy person,” Paige said, wanting to smooth things over.

“If that’s truly the case, he should do something about it. Like take a hard look at himself. Maybe go to an AA meeting. Ask his family why no one wants a relationship with him.”

Paige gave her a look. “That’s a little harsh.”

“It’s the truth, and you know it.”

Paige didn’t say anything, uncomfortable with the past.

Ashley’s chin lifted. “Dad always took out his frustration on us. He was always in a bad mood and he hated that we were happy. It wasn’t okay. And it wasn’t okay that he blamed you—”

“You’re right,” Paige interrupted, in part because Ashley was right, but also because Paige didn’t want to do this now. She hated making excuses for Ted. She’d spent years making excuses for her ex-husband, and yet at the same time, she didn’t want to live in the past, didn’t want to examine it over and over. The past was the past. She needed to move forward. She wanted to move forward. “Obviously, I’d like for you to see your dad. He is your dad. But at the same time, it’s your relationship, and you’re an adult, and I refuse to get in the middle.”

Ashley huffed a breath. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go see him. But I don’t want to have dinner with him and Lila, or whatever her name is. That would be weird. What would we talk about anyway? How great he is in bed?”

“Ashley!”

“They are sleeping together. One of the pictures was of them in bed.”

Oh my God. Paige felt faint. “It wasn’t.”

“They were wrapped up in sheets. Shoulders were bare. Dad looked really happy.”

Paige closed her eyes, trying—unsuccessfully—to block the picture from her mind, but Ted had a hairy arm and that’s all she could see. “Can you spare me the details? We’re not married anymore. What he does is his business.”

“Exactly,” Ashley crowed triumphantly. “And it’s not going to be my business.”