The Reunion, page 16
When Mrs. Russo turned to face the skillet again, Karen mouthed the word Davey at him, then gave him a thumbs-up.
“Ladies first,” Dave said, pointing at the food on the table. Besides the scrambled eggs, there was homemade Italian bread, toasted and buttered. Bacon and sausage links. Coffee, orange juice, tomato juice. Karen took bird-sized portions of each but passed on the toast.
Jake came out of the bathroom, almost presentable, and sat down. “Thanks, Grandma, I’m starving.” After last night’s dinner, Dave couldn’t imagine how that was possible.
After she’d added another layer of eggs to the bowl, his mother joined them. “So what are your plans, you two?” She pointed at Jake. “Him? I know he’s got a game this afternoon.”
“Well,” Dave said, “Karen’s here to help me find her father.” Jake shot him a look that said, “Really?” Dave was glad Karen didn’t see it. “And . . . we’ve got reason to believe he might be living somewhere in Florida.”
“If he’s alive at all,” Karen added.
“You think he might not be?”
“It’s hard to know, Mom,” Dave said. “He left Karen and her brother when they were kids. He sent some cards for a few years, then after that . . . nothing. Karen’s mother told her that he wound up living on the streets.”
“That’s so sad,” his mother said.
“Yeah, he had it really rough after the war,” Dave said.
“A lot of men did back then.” His mother finally put some food on her plate.
“The thing is,” Dave said, “if he stayed out there too long, he probably didn’t make it. The average life expectancy for homeless men is midforties.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It’s a hard life.”
“So how you two going to find him?”
“It won’t be easy. I’ve got a list of things we can check on the internet. Karen and I are going to take a drive over to Perry. They used to live there when she was little.”
“You better leave some time to take a shower,” his mother said. Karen smiled.
“I will,” Dave said. “We’re going to have to get a move on to get there and back in time. Karen wants to go with me to Jake’s game.”
“Really?” Jake said.
“I’d love to watch you play,” she said. “Your dad’s talked about you more than anything else since we met.”
Jake seemed to like that. “He couldn’t be talking about how I play. I mostly sit on the bench. Today, we’re playing the Red Devils. It’s only our second game, but the coach told us to expect a close one. I might not even get on the floor at all. Maybe you two should do something—”
“I don’t mind,” Karen said. “I’d still like to come.”
“Okay.” Jake shoveled in a mouthful of eggs.
Karen and Dave had finished eating. Karen brought her plate and coffee cup to the sink. “Can I help you clean up, Mrs. Russo?”
“No, you and Davey go do what you came to do. I’ll have this all spick-and-span in no time.”
A few hours later, Dave and Karen sat in a noisy, crowded gym watching a very close game between the Panthers and the Red Devils. He looked down at the gym floor, trying to find his son. Jake had been right; the coach didn’t seem to have any plans of putting him in. In the third quarter, the Red Devils had started to pull away. Dave secretly started rooting for them. If the Red Devils ran away with it, Jake still might see some action at the end.
But it was not to be. The buzzer sounded; it was Red Devils 68, Panthers 65. Jake’s team had lost, and he had sat on the bench the entire game.
That wasn’t the only disappointment of the day.
Before the game, Dave and Karen had gotten on the internet, worked through every item on Dave’s checklist, tried every trick in the book. But nothing had worked. They weren’t any closer to finding Aaron Miller than when they started. Then the time they’d spent in Perry that morning didn’t really turn up any new leads. Karen had just been too young to remember anything specific. The only thing she knew for certain was how much smaller everything looked. “Well, it would,” Dave had said, “you were only three feet tall.”
Dave was clearly more frustrated about it than Karen. She reassured him that it didn’t really matter. He knew what she’d meant. It didn’t matter to her. She hadn’t really come here hoping to find her father; she’d come for the same reason he’d invited her: to spend time with him. But it mattered to Dave. He didn’t want to let John Lansing and his two Vietnam friends down.
But it seemed obvious: Aaron Miller was either not in Florida or not on the earth.
“Are you still thinking about my dad?” she said.
He looked at her pretty face and kind eyes. The noises and sounds in the gymnasium came back into focus too. “Yeah.”
“It’s okay. I’m still glad I came. Even to the game. It’s sad Jake didn’t get to play, but it was so exciting. I loved watching how much Jake cheered his team on. He didn’t seem to mind being on the bench at all.”
“No, he’s got a great attitude about it.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” she said. “He may not have a girlfriend, but there’s a really cute brunette down there, about three rows up from the floor, who can’t keep her eyes off him.”
“Really?”
“She’s right down there behind the cheerleaders, wearing a bright red sweater. Dark shiny hair. Do you see her?”
Dave followed her eyes. Sure enough, a very attractive young lady was sitting in the third row, staring right at Jake. Dave looked at Jake and noticed he wasn’t looking at her. The players of both teams were on the floor in single file, walking past each other, nodding and shaking hands in a show of sportsmanship. “Did you see him looking at her . . . during the game?”
Karen looked back at Jake. “Not once. I don’t think he has any idea. But I know that look. She likes him.”
Dave would have never caught something like that. “Do you think I should tell him?”
“I don’t know. You’re his father. Would he want to know?”
“I guess. I think so.” These weren’t things Dave typically thought about. “But what if she’s not . . . a nice girl?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Karen said. “But I’ve been watching her most of the game. You can tell by the way she’s dressed, the way she carries herself and interacts with her friends. She’s the quiet type. Not flirty. If Jake doesn’t approach her, she’ll never make a move.”
“You can tell all that without even having a conversation with her?” He looked down to the gym floor and found Jake. Jake looked up into the stands, saw him and Karen, and waved for them to come down. “He wants to talk to us.” They stood and started down the bleachers.
“How much time until we leave for the airport?” Karen asked.
“Maybe three hours.”
“Will Jake have to stay here awhile?”
“Are you wondering if he’ll be through in time to join us?”
Karen nodded.
“When he doesn’t play at all, he doesn’t have to shower. But the coach usually gets the guys together for a quick meeting. I’ll see if he has any plans after.” Dave loved the fact that Karen thought to include Jake. They reached the floor level. “There he is, over by the first row.” Dave yelled, “Hey, Jake, over here.”
They weaved in and out of the crowd toward him. As they neared, Dave wondered what Jake was up to. He was bent over trying to reach something that had fallen between the bleachers. When Jake stood upright, he was holding a newspaper. He unfolded it and looked at the first page.
“Hey, Dad. I found this in the locker room before the game.”
“What is it?” Dave said. Karen stood beside him.
“Didn’t you say the guy you and Karen were looking for was named Aaron Miller?”
“Yeah.”
“A Vietnam vet, right?”
“Yes,” Dave said.
Jake nodded. “That’s what it says right here. On the front page of the local section. There’s this guy here, some kind of hero, named Aaron Miller, a Vietnam vet. Even got his picture.” He held it up for Dave and Karen to see. “Could this be the guy?”
35
Karen was stunned.
Jake had handed the newspaper to Dave, who held it out for both of them to see. The headline read:
Vietnam Vet Saves Life of WWII Hero’s Widow
There were two photographs. On the left, a trailer lay smashed under the weight of an enormous tree limb. On the right, an elderly woman and an old but slightly younger man stood next to a fireman in all his gear. Their names were listed below, left to right: Irene Hamlin, Aaron Miller, and Lt. William O’Donnell.
“This is him, Karen. It has to be!” Dave sounded so excited.
But Karen didn’t need Dave to tell her. The man in the picture was so much older, and he looked as though life had worn him to the bone. But she recognized his face. A flash of that face appeared in her mind, the last time she saw him, bending down to kiss her good night on the forehead, smiling, telling her to “sleep tight.”
Dave read the first two paragraphs aloud:
On Friday afternoon, Irene Hamlin lay down in her trailer for a short nap. She had just spent Thanksgiving Day with her children and their families in Tampa. “I was exhausted,” Irene said.
A moment later, she heard a loud crack. Her trailer erupted like a volcano, flinging her across the room. “I didn’t know what happened,” Irene said. “I wondered if a tornado hit my trailer, but there wasn’t any wind, and it was sunny outside.” A large tree limb had just broken off from an aging oak tree next to Irene’s trailer and fallen across her living room.
Dave continued to read in silence. Karen did too.
A few moments later, Jake said, “I’ve got to go. The coach always calls a short meeting after the game.”
“Are you doing anything after?” Dave said.
“A few of the guys are heading out to the movies. I figured you two would be . . .”
“That’s okay, Jake. You go have fun.”
Jake looked at Karen. “You’re flying home in a little while, right?”
“In just a few hours.”
“Well, it was great meeting you. Wish I could stay longer, but—”
“You go on, Jake. I really enjoyed spending time with you and your grandma.”
Jake gave his father a quick side hug, said good-bye, and ran off toward the locker room. Dave sat on the first row of bleachers and kept reading. Karen sat beside him. Every few sentences, she looked up at her father’s face.
Still holding the paper, Dave said, “It says he’s a Vietnam vet, but it doesn’t say anything about him winning the Medal of Honor.” He looked at her. “Maybe they don’t know.”
“I guess not.” She wished she shared his enthusiasm, but she couldn’t. “Isn’t that the newspaper you work for?”
“Yeah, but this article was written by a paper two counties south of us. I know the reporter. He mentions the trailer park’s name but not its address. I could call him right now. I have his number on my cell. Karen, do you realize what this means?”
Sadly, she did. With it staring her in the face like this, she felt her insides churning.
“We’ve been searching for your father all over the place, and here he lives just an hour away. And look, he’s still saving people’s lives.” Dave’s face was all lit up. He stood, still holding the paper, and looked at his watch. “We could drive there and back in two hours. That would give us almost an hour there, and we’d still get back in plenty of time for your flight.”
“What?” she said.
“You could see your father. Right now. Well, an hour from now.”
“He might not even be home.”
“True. But let’s start driving. Your bags are all packed and in the car. I can find the number for the trailer park on the way. He obviously doesn’t have a phone or we’d have found him already. But I’m sure the park does.”
She was still sitting on the bleachers. “I don’t know, Dave. Maybe we should wait.”
“Wait? It’s like God just handed us a personal invitation. Don’t you want to see him?”
Karen looked down at her feet. The truth was she didn’t, not at all. For her, coming here was about getting to know Dave better, spending time with him. Meeting his mom and Jake. She never imagined anything would come of this search for her father. At the most, she thought Dave might turn up a few interesting leads. She stood up. “Actually, Dave, I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No. If you want to see him, that’s okay. I know it’s your job. I can take a cab to the airport.”
“What? No . . . Karen. It is my job, but I don’t have to see him today. I didn’t realize it would upset you. You seemed so—”
“So calm about it before?”
“Yeah. But I can see how this would be a shock for you. I never even thought about it that way.”
She was relieved to hear him say it, but she still felt all tense inside. She didn’t really know how to describe it. All she knew was she wanted to go back to Texas.
Now.
This old man she was looking at in the newspaper, almost a stranger . . . the man who’d read her stories and kissed her forehead before turning out the light, was also the man who’d abandoned her and Steve almost forty years ago. Her only connection to him was a handful of cards he’d sent a few years after that, and then . . . nothing.
He’d made no attempt to find her, was never there for her at any point in her life. It was easier when she’d imagined he was probably dead. But there he was in the photograph, alive and well. The big hero. All this time, he hadn’t cared about her, hadn’t taken any interest in being a part of her life. Why would she want to meet him now?
Dave reached out his hand, laid it gently on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, but I think I’d like you to take me to the airport. Could we go there now?”
36
Something had changed between them. Something had shifted.
Dave was sure of it.
When he’d dropped Karen off at the airport a half hour ago, she insisted she was fine. They were fine. She had just been taken aback by the suddenness of seeing her father’s picture in the paper after forty years of silence. Then, confronted with the idea of seeing him, she realized she just wasn’t ready.
But Dave could feel her pulling away. Maybe not back to square one, but in those last few hours together she seemed distant. Their conversation no longer flowed. It was more like what you’d expect between two people who barely knew each other. Choosing words carefully, keeping things to themselves. But that’s not how it had been between them since their first dinner at Chili’s. It was like they had been given a pass, allowed to skip all the necessities and formalities most couples wrestle with in those early weeks and months.
He’d asked her to call when she got home safe, so he wouldn’t worry. He looked at the digital clock in his car. He still had several hours before then. Hopefully, when she did call, he’d discover he was making something out of nothing.
Dave drove south on a nearly deserted county road on his way to Bentley’s Trailer Park. He was used to driving through these long stretches of nothingness now, just trees and farmland rolling by mile after mile. The towns in northern Florida were mostly small and spread far apart. The region had a beauty and serenity all its own. A place in the Sunshine State unspoiled by tourism or developers. This was especially evident when you got closer to the historic river areas like Steinhatchee and Suwannee. He got the sense he was seeing pretty much the same scenery the early Timucuan Indians saw hundreds of years ago.
Dave had called the reporter who’d written the story about Aaron Miller about fifteen minutes ago and gotten the phone number and address of the trailer park. He’d just gotten off the phone with Sue Kendall, the park’s manager. He didn’t tell her much, just that he was a journalist who’d read the story about their handyman who’d saved that woman’s life yesterday. Sue said he wasn’t the first reporter who’d called today. She’d taken quite a few phone calls on Aaron’s behalf, including a producer from some cable news channel.
But Aaron had made it pretty clear, he wasn’t looking to be famous and wasn’t interested in doing any more interviews with any more reporters. Dave had assured her that wasn’t his intention. He wasn’t a reporter looking for a story. “Well, you can come on down if you want,” she’d said. “He’s here, but he’s off today. I don’t know if he’ll see you or not.” Dave had thanked her and told her it was definitely worth it to him, that he’d like to give it a try. “Well, come on down then.”
Dave had one more phone call to make before he arrived. A big one. He dialed the private cell number for John Lansing. Dave wasn’t supposed to call this number unless it was something significant. When he did call, John would try to answer it himself.
This was as big as it gets.
“Hello? That you, Dave?”
“It is, John. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”
“We surely did. We’re actually about to sit down to some nice-looking leftovers. Most of the family’s here. Can I call you back in about an hour or so?”
“No need. This will just take a second. Thought you’d like to know, I’m driving right now to meet Aaron Miller. I should be pulling into the trailer park where he lives in about twenty minutes.”
“The Aaron Miller?”
“The very one.”
“So he’s alive?”
“He is.”
“Thank God! I can’t believe it. How did you find him? I figured it’d take you at least a month or more, if you ever did.”
“It’s an amazing story. I’m thinking you must be praying hard or living right, or something. Because I’d been trying all my tricks and getting nowhere. Then today, it’s like God just dropped him down right in front of me. Turns out he only lives an hour away.”
“You’re kidding. So he’s right there in Florida?”
“Lives and works in a trailer park on the Suwannee River. And you’re not going to believe how I found him.”
