Note: This story is told from the point of view of Sam.


    There are things that you know; things that you hold to be true.

    Day turns to night.  The sun rises in the East.  What goes up, must come 
down.

    And your father would never cheat on your mother.

    There are things that you know; things that you hold to be true.

    So what happens when the one thing you believe in the most turns out to 
be a lie?

    I'll tell you what happens.

    Your faith in all that you ever believed in is shaken.  You question 
everything you ever knew.

    Essentially, you question yourself.  

    After coming to terms with this fact, I gathered the courage to call my 
father.  

    I asked him to meet me at my apartment tonight.  

    He's in town.  

    My parents live in Richmond, Virginia.  

    His mistress lives in Washington, D.C.

    I laugh bitterly, remembering how special I always felt thinking that my 
father was in town to visit me once he had retired and was no longer required 
to travel to D.C on business. 

    Another delusion bites the dust.  

    I shake my head free of my thoughts as I hear a knock at my door.

    I slowly rise from my chair and cross the room to the door.

    I notice that my hand shakes as I reach for the doorknob.

    I realize that I am actually nervous to see my father.  

    The mere thought makes my head spin.  I am nervous to see the man I've 
known and loved all my life.

    And then I realize the real reason I am nervous.  

    He isn't the man I've known and loved all my life.   

    To some degree, he isn't...He can't be.  

    A man can't betray his wife and family in such a way for so long and 
still remain unchanged in the eyes of those that love him.

    I eventually muster the nerve to turn the doorknob and open the door.

    My father stares at me and offers what seems to be a slight smile.

    I simply study him.  At first glance, he looks like the same man I've 
always known.

    Then my gaze reaches his eyes.

    I search them for some evidence of the man who used to spin my mother 
around the living room as they danced to one of Sinatra's tunes.

    I search for the man who never missed one of my Little League games.

    I search for the man who taught me to never compromise my values.

    I search to no avail.  

    Although I know that 24 hours ago he wouldn't have looked any different 
in my eyes and I could have seen that same man staring back at me, at this 
moment I can see nothing but his deception.

    Without a word, I move aside and gesture for him to enter.

    He enters my apartment and stands uncomfortably next to the couch.

    We stand in silence for what seems like hours, until he finally speaks, 
"So what did you want to see me about?"

    I snort at that, shaking my head.  He knows damn well what I wanted to 
see him about.          

    "I need to hear you say it," I respond softly.

    "Say what?"

    I take a step closer to him and breathe in deeply, "I need to hear you 
tell me that you had an affair for twenty-eight years.  I...I know it's true, 
I just need to hear you say the words to eliminate any minute gleam of hope 
that I may be harboring and not even realize."

    My father sighs and rubs at the back of his neck.  He speaks without 
meeting my eyes, "It's true, Sam.  I've been having an affair for 
twenty-eight years."

    I feel myself breathe out a mouth full of air I hadn't realized I was 
holding.  

    It's only then that I realize that somewhere deep inside of me I had been 
holding onto that minute gleam of hope for dear life.

    That's me, the eternal optimist.

    I nod my head a couple of times and say, "Okay, that's all I wanted to 
hear."

    "Sam," he says softly and attempts to place his hand on my shoulder.  I 
take a step back before he can touch me and watch as his arm slowly falls to 
his side.  

    He clears his throat and speaks again, "We need to talk about this."

    "There's nothing to talk about," I return quickly.

    "Yes, there is.  I...I want...I need you-..."

    "What?!" I spew, cutting his sentence off.  A sudden rage has overcome me 
and I am powerless to stop it.

    "What do you want from me, Dad?  My blessing?  My approval?  Do you want 
me to try to understand?"  I inhale sharply before finishing, "Because if 
that's what you're looking for, then you came to the wrong guy." 

    My father shakes his head sadly and replies, "I just want you to listen 
to me."

    I sigh tiredly, too drained by my mini-tirade to object.  

    He raises his head and looks me in the eye for the first time as he 
speaks, "I'm glad you found out, son.  I'm glad your mother found out.  I've 
grown so tired of hiding this from you, your mother and your sisters."

    I look at him blankly, wondering if he wants me to be sympathetic to his 
feelings in all of this.  If so, he will be sorely disappointed.

    He continues, "Things were good between with your mother and I for a long 
time.  We were happy.  Then we had you kids and for a while we were the 
happiest we had ever been.  I loved being a father.

    "But there came a day when I realized that I had no control over my life. 
 Your mother handled the household affairs and took care of you and you 
sisters.  I was a traveling salesman, Sam.  It was a job I loathed with no 
hope for a promotion and I felt like my life was passing me by.   I wanted to 
be able to control something, do something that was just for me." 

    At this point, he squeezes his eyes shut. "I never imagined that it would 
turn out to be an affair.  I thought I'd take up fishing or coin collecting.  
Then I saw her.  It was during one of my many trips to D.C. and I stopped in 
at a bar after a long day of work.  She was just sitting there and when I 
walked in she smiled at me.  It wasn't until that moment that I realized a 
woman smiling at me hadn't made me feel anything in so long, not even your 
mother.  I realized that your mother and I had grown so far apart that I 
never even noticed if she even smiled anymore...We started talking, laughing, 
and suddenly it felt like I was an entirely new person.  I couldn't help it 
and that's how it began."

    By now, I could feel tears stinging my eyes.  I felt a burning deep in 
the pit of my stomach as I spit out, "So that's it?  You wanted to control 
something in your life, so you lied to your family for twenty-eight years?"

    He sighed, "That's how it began, Sam.  She filled a hole in my life." He 
paused and then added softly, "I never expected to fall in love with her."

    A lump the size of a watermelon took up residence in my throat.  

    I know it was awfully naive of me to think that my father would have an 
affair with a woman for so long and not be in love with her, but I guess I 
just didn't want to believe it. 

    I never expected him to say those words to me and now I feel like I've 
been deceived all over again.

    "Why didn't you ever divorce Mom?" I manage to croak out.

    My father shrugs his shoulders, "I considered ending it with your mother 
a thousand times, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I still love 
your mother in a different way, Sam, and I didn't want to see her hurt like 
that.  After a while, Sus...the other woman just became a part of my life 
like anything else.  I got so used to having both women in my life that it 
almost seemed normal to me after a while."  He paused and then added, "But 
there were times when I would lie awake at night and watch your mother sleep. 
 I'd feel so guilty for what I was doing, but I just couldn't bring myself to 
end it."

    I shake my head, as I grow more and more disgusted with him.  

    A thought suddenly pops into my head and my eyes grow wide. 

    I begin to ramble,  "When I was five years old, I begged you to take me 
with you on one of your trips.  You took me to Washington, D.C.   I remember 
standing outside the White House and staring at it in awe.  At that age, I 
had no idea what that building stood for...It wasn't until much later that I 
realized that it was at that moment that I vowed to personally find out.  
That trip piqued my interest in politics.  I was so young, but I could sense 
an energy in the air there and I wanted to be a part of it.  The next time 
you went, I was in school and couldn't go.  But - and I clearly remember this 
-  the time after that I was on vacation and I begged you to take me with you 
again.  You just said, 'Maybe next time, son,' and patted my head." 

    I take a deep breath before concluding in a whisper, "There never was a 
next time and now I know why."
    
    I glare at him, my eyes piercing his so much that he averts his gaze.  He 
bows his head as he speaks, "Please don't look at it like that, Sam."

    "Look at it like what?" I say accusingly, "Like my father deliberately 
chose his mistress over his own son?   How should I look at it, Dad?"

    He opens his mouth to respond, but quickly closes it before any words 
emerge.  I watch as he absentmindedly rubs at the back at his neck.   It's a 
habit of his that he does when he's thinking. 

    After a few silent moments, he speaks, "I don't know what else to say, 
Sam.  I know what I did was wrong, but I can't change any of it.  I just 
don't want to lose you because of it."

    I point a finger at him as I reply, "You're going to listen to me now.  I 
want you to understand how all of this makes me feel.  If you can't find a 
way to understand where I'm coming from with all of this, then I don't know 
where we can hope to go from here."

    My father nods his head and crosses his arms over his chest as a sign 
that he's ready to listen to me.  

    I run a hand through my hair and inhale deeply two times before speaking, 
"I work in a cynical world, Dad.  I work with people who once had bright eyes 
and high hopes.  I look at them now and I see only a glimmer in their eyes 
and faint traces of those hopes.  Day in and day out, we work on issues that 
we know we have little or no hope of improving.  People are dying from 
sexually transmitted diseases, children are shooting children and families 
are being torn apart in record numbers.  I think of these people and I know 
deep down that there's only so much any of us can do.  

    "Yet everyday I come to work with a smile on my face and a cheerful 
disposition.  I'm known as the 'optimistic' one; the one whose eyes stay 
bright and whose hopes remain high well past the point when they should have 
faded.  

    "So how is it that I go into work everyday knowing what I do and still 
manage to project that kind of attitude?  I think of you and Mom.  I think of 
our family.  I think of my happy childhood.  I think of all of that and it 
gives me faith that all of those unhappy people can someday find happiness.  
I always think that if we can have it, so can they." 

    I pause and then say through a constricted throat, "So do you have any 
idea what learning this does to my hope for the future of the people of this 
country?  It shatters it, Dad.  It makes me question all that I've ever 
believed in and wonder if there was ever any point wasting the energy in the 
first place.  It makes me wonder if anyone can ever truly be happy."

    My father simply stares at me for a few moments, unsure of what to say.  
He swallows hard before finally replying, "Your childhood wasn't the perfect 
one you remember, Sam."

    "Obviously," I mutter.

    "No," he says rather sharply, "We weren't the Brady Bunch.  Your mother 
and I would fight.  We'd go days without speaking.  You're only choosing to 
remember the happy parts because it hurts less that way."

    I shake my head, as I roughly wipe at my eyes, "That's not true.  
Whatever problems you and Mom had you kept a secret from me, Kathryn and 
Lynda."

    My father exhales deeply before replying, "Do you remember the summer 
that you were seven?"

    I nod, "Yeah, we spent the summer at Aunt Rachel's farm in Wisconsin.  
You  stayed home because you had to work."

    My father shakes his head and my hearts drops into my stomach. "Your 
mother and I separated that summer, Sam.  We explained that to you and your 
sisters, but you chose to remember it in a way that wouldn't hurt.  Your 
mother found out about my affair and made me promise to stop seeing her.  I 
told her I would and at the end of the summer you all returned home."  He 
paused and then added softly, "It didn't take long fpr me to break my 
promise."

     I felt like I had just been hit by a semi-truck for the second time in 
one day.  I had been deluding myself all of these years.  

    From what little I remember of Psych 100, I determine that I had employed 
a classic defense mechanism in order to protect myself: denial.

    Why I am the way that I am is suddenly becoming a lot clearer.  I always 
look at the bright side of things because I've made a habit out of it for 
most of my life.

    "Sam," my father says and I am thrown free of my thoughts.  

    I meet his eyes and say in a voice barely above a whisper, "What?"

    My father looks me right in the eye as he speaks, "Don't change because 
of this."

    I laugh bitterly and shake my head, "Too late for that, Dad.  I just 
realized I've been deluding myself for nearly all my life." I pause and then 
add softly, "I mean, I thought you were this great, hardworking, honest man.  
I've admired you all my life and now I feel like a fool."

    I watch as my father's face falls and I feel a tinge of guilt for being 
satisfied that I have succeeded in hurting him in some small way.

    He speaks in a throaty whisper, "I'm your father, Sam.  I never pretended 
to love you and I never said one word to you that I didn't mean.  But I am 
human.  I make mistakes; I fall in love when I shouldn't.   I never pretended 
to be any more than human."

    "You just don't get it, do you?" I say bitingly. "I saw you as a man who 
was devoted to his family, who loved his wife.  That's a part of who you are, 
Dad, and it's a part of the man I hoped to be when I had a family of my own.  
I never thought you would do something like this, so now I'm left to wonder 
if decades from now I'll be standing here exchanging the same words with my 
son."

    My father's eyes widen as I say that and I realize I hadn't acknowledged 
that fear until I said it out loud a few moments ago.  

    That's a terrible fear to live with and now I wonder if it'll be gnawing 
at me for the rest of my life.

    My father shakes his head, "You are your own man, Sam.  You aren't doomed 
to follow in my footsteps."

    I nod my head in agreement, "You're right, I'm not.  But because of you 
I'll never know for sure if I'm the kind of man who can deceive the people 
he's supposed to love the most.  I bet you never thought you'd do what you 
did until you did it."

    I look at him and his eyes tell me that indeed he hadn't.  I shake my 
head and am just about to speak again when he beats me to it, "A man is only 
as much as the choices he makes in life, Sam.  I can't promise you that you 
won't someday do the same thing I did, because I can't know that for sure.  I 
can only tell you that you will always have that choice and I think you are 
the kind of man who won't choose incorrectly."

    I look at him thoughtfully for a moment, seeing a glimpse of the man I 
had always known...The man who always knew how to make me feel better, who 
always dispensed the best advice.

    I slowly realize that the man I've always loved and admired wasn't the 
illusion I thought he was.

    He is a man.  

    A man with flaws and one who's made a mistake he'll never be able to 
erase or make completely right.

    But he is my father and I know deep in my heart that the moments we've 
shared, that many of the qualities I've admired, are real and pure.
    
    In time, I'll learn to forgive him.  

    But I will never forget the pain of his deception, because it is with 
remembering that history is prevented from repeating itself.



THE END

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