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I called Dad, “Hey, kiddo! What's up?”
“Hi, Dad. You know how we're the solutions guys?”
I could hear my dad go on alert. He loved to hear someone else had a problem with no solution. That was us: The solutions guys.
“Yeah? So what’s today’s problem?” Dad asked.
“I just found her.” I got choked up, “And she's with someone else.”
Big pause at the end of the line. I was pretty sure that Dad wasn't expecting this kind of problem!
Dad finally broke the silence on the line. “Kiddo? How many machines have we taken apart and put back together again?”
Huh? That's not what this was about! But I went along with him. After all, I was the one who called him for help.
We’d taken apart and put back together so many machines, vehicles, devices, gadgets, and appliances together ever since I was in grade school. It was easy to lose count!
“Geeze, Dad ... Thousands?”
I could hear Dad agree, “And how many of those projects did we start, absolutely sure what the problem was gonna be? Sure and certain what the fix had to be?”
I had to laugh, “Probably all of them. We were wrong on about half of them.”
So Dad asks, “What are the odds that this one is that kind of problem, too, kiddo? Maybe you got the nature of the problem all wrong here.”
I pondered that for a minute. Wow. Who thought relationships would be like machines?
“I get it Dad, but what do I do about that? How do I find out? It's not a machine I can take apart.”
All Dad said was, “You collect information, son. You gather information and you put it all together to see if your problem was correctly stated. You line up all the pieces of the thing. Then you go from there.”
I protested, “But Dad! What if the problem really is that she's got someone else? Someone special?”
“Well, kiddo. It’s hard. But it’s clear: You have to let her go. We do not get into the middle of someone else's relationship now, do we?”
I sighed. “That might be the real problem, Dad: The situation is clear. But it’s hard.”
We chatted for another couple of minutes.
“I love you, Leighton.”
“Love you, Dad.”
Days went by. No solution came to mind.
Samantha
After that revelation, I tried desperately to keep busy at work. I tried desperately to keep myself busy during my short evenings at home.
Desperate was the word. I was failing. Failing to get a grip. Failing to let go of what I couldn’t control.
I couldn’t control the fact that Leighton was … with someone else.
I kept having flashbacks about coming home after school, and Mom wouldn’t be there. I’d wait. I’d hope. Then I’d cry. I was abandoned. Left high and dry by my own mother. Left to fend for myself. A latch-key kid who was nobody’s kid.
I remembered it: I started to fear going home after school at all. I was scared at night. Even when Davie was there, I was …
Stop!
