nice guy. At least he'd been decent to them. But what Sally had done was unforgivable. And he knew he never would.
He and Vanessa talked for a few more minutes and then she talked to Robert, and he tried to explain as much as he knew. It sounded incredible to them too, but Robert believed his father. He could see in his eyes that it was the truth, and he could also see what it had cost him. There was a depth of pain that Matt hadn't been able to hide in years, even from his son now. Seeing that, and knowing what had happened put Robert's relationship with his mother on the line, which was hard for him too.
Matt and Robert talked for hours and were still talking when Pip called about her mother. Robert listened intently to the exchange.
“What was that all about?” he asked, wanting to know everything about him now, including who his friends were and what his life was like.
“A widow and her daughter. Apparently, some-thing's wrong.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Robert asked with a smile as Matt shook his head.
“No, she's not. We're just friends. She's had a tough time. Her husband and son died last year.”
“That's too bad. Do you have a girlfriend?” Robert asked with a grin. He was so happy just being there, he wanted to soak it all in. Matt had given him a sandwich and a glass of wine by then, but Robert was too excited to eat or drink.
“No, I don't have a girlfriend.” Matt laughed. “Or a wife. I'm a recluse.”
“And you still paint.” He saw the portraits of himself and his sister, and then stared at the one of Pip. “Who's that?”
“The little girl on the phone.”
“She looks like Nessie,” Robert said, looking intently at the painting. There was something mesmerizing about her eyes, and touching about her smile.
“Yes, she does. I painted that as a surprise for her mother, for her birthday next week.”
“It's good. Are you sure her mother's not your girlfriend?” There was something about the way he talked about her that made Robert suspicious.
“Absolutely sure. Now what about you? Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?” Robert laughed in answer and told him about his current love, his classes at Stanford, his friends, his passions, and his life. They had six years to cover, and cruised through midnight as they sat talking for most of the night. It was four A.M. when Robert fell into Matt's bed, and Matt slept on the couch. Robert hadn't intended to spend the night, but couldn't bring himself to leave.
And when he woke up in the morning, they started talking again. Matt cooked him bacon and eggs, and at ten o'clock Robert said he had to go, but he promised to come back the following week. He had plans for the weekend. Matt said he'd come down to see him at Stanford during the week.
“You'll never get rid of me now,” Matt warned, looking happier than he had in years. And so did Robert.
“I never wanted to, Dad,” he said gently. “I thought you'd forgotten us. The only way that I could explain it to myself was I thought you had died. I didn't think you'd stop writing for any other reason. I knew you wouldn't just walk away, no matter what. But I just had to know for sure.” He had used all kinds of ingenious means to find him, and his efforts had finally borne fruit.
“Thank God you found me. I was going to contact you and Nessie in a few years, and find out if you'd had a change of heart, and wanted to see me again. I hadn't given up, I was just waiting.” And there was the whole issue of what to say to Sally. But more importantly, what could she possibly say to him to explain what she had done? And what could she say to her children? She had deprived them of their father, and lied to all of them. It seemed an unforgivable sin, not only in Matt's eyes, but in her son's. She had a lot of reckoning to do. And justifiably, they would never trust her again.
Robert left reluctantly, finally, at ten-thirty on Friday morning. It had been the best Thanksgiving of Matt's life, and he couldn't wait to tell Ophélie and Pip. But he had to see what had happened to Ophélie first, and how she was. He dialed their number only seconds after Robert