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He didn’t look inside the folder until he was seated once more on the couch. Then he opened it slowly, so slowly, as though whatever was inside could mortally wound him.
The first was a Polaroid of his parents. His mother had the big hair of the early eighties, and his dad was still wearing glasses. They were laughing.
He spread the rest of the photos across the coffee table. He found another Polaroid of the family in which he’d been six or seven. And he saw the happiness shining on their faces, especially his.
The Polaroids gave way to printed pictures, and somewhere around the beginning of his teens, the faces changed. There were fewer photos of them all, more of him with just his mom or his dad, and their faces were grimmer, their smiles smaller. Especially his mother, as if she’d begun to lose her joy in life. And his dad just started to look old.
He’d always thought his father’s defection had been a surprise, something out of the blue, but he could see here, in these pictures, that it had been coming for a while. Years.
He picked up a photo of himself and his dad that someone had taken on one of their fishing trips when he was maybe thirteen or so. He wore a toothy grin, holding up a string of fish, his dad’s arm around him. Examining it for a long time, he noticed the grooves around his father’s mouth, the shadow in his eyes, the smile that didn’t look completely real, as if he were putting on a good face for his son.
“What happened, Dad?” he asked the two-dimensional image. “Why did you want to leave us?”
The image had no answers. But for the first time, Cal wondered if he might finally have an inkling. He’d always seen his dad as the bad guy, a terrible human being who’d deserted his marriage and his family, a man who would coerce a much younger subordinate. But that wasn’t the man in the photo. This man was just…sad. And trying to put on a happy face for his kid.
“Were you just lonely and unhappy, Dad? Is that why you did it?”
He’d been so hurt and angry that he hadn’t wanted to look at the reasons why. He’d just wanted to blame his dad for everything, the way his mom had. He’d demonized his father. Cal had wanted to be a lawyer just like him, then suddenly, he’d hated the very idea of doing anything his dad had done.
But maybe there was another side. Maybe his dad wasn’t a terrible man, just a man who’d made a mistake. He’d wanted to come back after his girlfriend left him, but Cal’s mother had slammed the door in his face. Cal’s father had never recovered—not from the affair, not from the divorce, not from his wife’s wrath. He’d died of a heart attack.
Or maybe it was a broken heart.
“I don’t condone what you did,” he said softly, as if his father were sitting on the couch beside him. “But I can’t hate you anymore. I know the power of love now, and maybe you did too. Maybe you really did love that woman. Maybe you thought she was the answer to your unhappiness. I’m sorry you were so broken. I’m sorry you were so sad. I’m sorry for the shitty things I said to you.” He looked up as if he could see his dad. “You wanted me to forgive you, and I refused. I know it’s late coming, but I do now, Dad. I realize now that you were just a man doing the best you could, and you screwed up. But I forgive you. And I hope you can forgive me for the pain I caused too.”
Cal had spent his life trying never to make an emotional mistake, trying never to follow in his father’s footsteps. And in his fear of being like his father, he’d never listened to his heart. He’d allowed himself to wound Lyssa, the woman he truly loved with all his heart.
“I love you, Dad,” he whispered, hoping his father would finally hear him.
And when he dropped the photo back on the table, it landed beside one of his mom. Before the divorce. Before the affair. Even then, her eyes mirrored his father’s misery.
“I wish I could have done something for you, Mom. Helped you with the pain, before and even more after. I’m so sorry I didn’t see until it was too late. Not that I could have done anything except be there for you.” Instead, he could only be there as the cancer ate her up, hold her hand, tell her he loved her. “I hope you’re at peace now.”
He understood the power of love now. Love heals, love saves, love is strength.
And he’d almost thrown Lyssa’s love away. He understood, too, why Daniel’s words had sliced him into a thousand pieces. Because he’d always believed he was capable of the worst things his father had done. And now he saw that he was like his father—a man who could make mistakes. But he was also a man who could admit when he was wrong. He hadn’t given love enough credit. He hadn’t given Lyssa enough credit.
