22: Reunited
Originally emailed on Apr. 8, 1999
Last Monday, the inevitable happened. About 4:00, I got a call from Sammy's teacher, who had both boys with her. They had not been picked up when school let out at 3:25. She had tried to call their father at work, and had been told that he was in a meeting and wasn't to be disturbed. Could I come get the boys?
I couldn't. I don't have the kind of seniority yet that allows me to dash out the door an hour before the end of the business day. Besides, I thought, this is Sam's responsibility and I'll be damned if I'll take care of it for him. I told Mrs. Milton someone would be there shortly, and called Sam's office myself. He was in a meeting and not to be disturbed. "This is his ex-wife," I said. "Tell him it's an emergency. About the children."
The secretary came back on the line. "He wants to know, is it the kind of emergency you can handle without him?"
"No," I said. "Tell him it's most definitely not the kind of emergency I can handle without him."
"Are the children injured?" she asked.
I said, "I'll discuss their condition with Mr. Reissinger, no one else."
"Please hold," she said. Two choruses of "Seasons in the Sun" later, she was back. "He's in a very important meeting," she said. "He really can't get away. Can I give him a message?"
"Yes," I said. "Tell him he just fucked up big time and I'll see him in court." I left my cubicle and told the receptionist, "I have a family emergency and have to leave. If anyone needs me, they can reach me at my home number starting in--" I glanced at my watch "--about twenty minutes."
I tried to compose myself to look happy on my way to pick up the boys. Mrs. Milton was obviously also making an effort to be pleasant. "Thank you so much," I told her. "This is way beyond your responsibility, and I'm grateful to you for looking after the boys."
"You're right," she said. "It's not my responsibility. I'm not your sons' daycare provider, and I can't continue to stay late in the afternoons waiting for them to be picked up."
"This has happened before?" I asked.
"Not this late, no," she said. "But even ten or fifteen minutes late is an imposition on my time."
"You're absolutely right," I told her. "I'll take care of it."
I took the boys to my house, where they were greeted by a joyful Hot Rod. Hot Rod had been returned to me in less than 48 hours, after a vigilant neighbor of Sam's reported the presence of an illicit dog larger than 20 pounds to the condo association president. I predicted a chihuahua would be forthcoming immediately to placate the boys, but thus far I have been proved wrong.
I changed out of my work clothes into sweats and a T-shirt, and was rooting around in the freezer looking for something de-frostable for dinner when the phone rang. It was Michael.
"Hey, Louella," he said, "I just went by to pick the boys up from daycare on my way home from the airport, and they're not there. I can't get hold of Sam. Do you know what's up?"
"You've been out of town?" I asked.
"Since Thursday," he said, "at a banking conference. We all met in secret and agreed to impose hidden fees on credit card and ATM transactions. Do you know where the boys are?"
"I have the boys," I said.
"Oh, great, I'll just come by and pick them up, then. I'm practically in the neighborhood."
"I don't think so," I said. "I have them because Sam didn't pick them up after school. Sammy's teacher says this has happened before. Sam obviously can't be bothered with his children, so I'm keeping them."
Michael said, "Louella, please, we're just working the kinks out. Mistakes are bound to happen."
"Sorry," I said. "As of now I'm enforcing the letter of our court-ordered custody arrangement. If you guys want it changed, you'll have to take me to court."
Michael said, "I'm turning into your driveway now. Will you talk this over with me?"
"No," I said. "So don't bother knocking."
"I won't," he said, coming through the front door, Ed right behind him. I hung up the phone.
Confused, I asked Ed, "Were you with Michael?"
"No," he said, "I just pulled up. What's going on?" The boys had run in from the living room to hug both men hello."Chaos," I said. "I meant to call you. I think I have to cancel dinner. Family crisis."
"Oh, no," Michael said. "No need to change your plans. The boys and I will just get out of here and leave the two of you to your date."
"Not so fast!" I said. "The boys are staying here until a judge tells me otherwise. But don't let me keep you. You must be eager to get home after your trip."
"Louella, I know you're mad at Sam," Michael said, "but is there a problem between us?"
I sighed. "No. But, unfortunately, you're not the father of these children. I need to base my decisions on the way Sam acts. Which is irresponsible."
"OK, OK," Michael said. "I'll go. I'll talk to Sam, find out what happened. I'll call you later. Louella, I'm sure we can work this out. C'mon, fellas, walk me to my car."
I turned to Ed. "I'm sorry. It's either a family outing, or I have to cancel. Sam failed to collect the boys after school and I ended up leaving work early to get them and it's just a mess."
"It's fine," Ed said. "I had budgeted for a nice dinner for the two of us. That means I can more than afford pizza and video games. It'll be fun." He hugged me, and I let myself enjoy it. Then I heard Michael's car start, and in a sudden burst of paranoia I ran to the front window. Mark and Sammy were on the sidewalk talking to a little girl from two houses down. Relieved, I called to Ed, "Well, we might as well get going, then," and we headed out to his car.
* * *
On Wednesday, Michael called. "Do we get the boys this weekend?" he asked.
"According to our court-ordered custody agreement, no. It's my year to have Easter with them."
"Can you give them up for one evening? I'd like to take them to a seder at my family's on Friday."
"What happens at a seder?" I asked.
"We eat," Michael said. "We celebrate the exodus. We eat. We drink four glasses of wine. And we eat."
"The boys won't be drinking wine," I said.
"Oh, no," he said. "Grape juice."
"If the boys want to go, it's OK with me," I said. "Do you want me to ask them?"
"Yes," he said. "Tell them gifts are involved."
* * *
Michael and Sam brought the boys home about 10:00 on Friday. "Can we talk?" Sam asked.
"Let me get the boys in bed," I said. "And then I suppose so. But you know my position."
When we were settled in the living room, Michael said, "As I said to you before, Louella, we have only been trying the new custody arrangement for a few weeks. Sam and I are still working out logistics, and we have the added challenge of bringing the boys to school in a school district we don't live in. We appreciate you taking care of the boys on Monday, and we're sure that as we settle into life as full-time parents these kinds of things won't happen so often. We would like you to give us another chance."
I looked at Sam. "What do you have to say?"
"What can I say?" he said. "I screwed up. I'm sorry."
"And it won't happen again?" I said.
He looked uncomfortable. "Look, Louella, I don't know what you expected me to do. I thought I'd be able to get free to pick the kids up, but I was meeting with some out-of-town clients and they arrived late. And then the meeting ran long. My hands were tied."
"So you're saying you'd do the same thing again?"
"Yes, under the same circumstances, but it won't happen again! What are the odds that Michael will be out of town again on a day when my schedule gets rearranged like that?"
"What are the odds," I said. "According to Mrs. Milton, this isn't the first time you've been late."
"Who's Mrs. Milton?" Sam asked. Michael looked stricken. "Mrs. Milton, honey," he said. "You know. Sammy's teacher?"
I gave Michael a sympathetic look. "No dice, Sam," I said.
"Louella," Sam said, "you're being unreasonable. You're taking my children away because I was in a meeting?"
"No," I said. "I'm taking them away because you wouldn't leave the meeting to pick them up when you had said you would, and because you left it up to Mrs. Milton and me to deal with the situation when it wasn't her responsibility and it wasn't mine."
"Oh, you're saying your own children aren't your responsibility? Real nice, Louella," Sam said.
I ignored him. "I'm sorry, Michael. You're going to have to take me to court if you want to change our arrangements. That's all I have to say."
"Louella, be reasonable!" Sam said. "Everything turned out OK! The boys are fine! Try to see it from my point of view. What would my clients have thought of me if I'd left the meeting to babysit?"
"I'm sure the court will be reasonable," I said. "You just be sure and tell the judge what you just told me."
Sam stormed out, blaspheming colorfully. Michael said, "I'm sorry, Lou. I really thought if we just talked it over, we could work this out in a friendly way."
"But you were counting on Sam keeping quiet, right? You thought you and I could work it out, if only he'd shut up." I grinned at him to take the sting out of my words. "Michael, what's the attraction?"
He looked after Sam and sighed. "Just now, I couldn't tell you." He gave me a hug. "Tell the boys I'll be dropping off Easter baskets for them on Sunday, and that I'm really looking forward to seeing them next weekend. I mean, we're really looking forward to seeing them."
"I'll tell them. Tell Sam I'm really looking forward to seeing him in court."
Michael grinned at me. "You're so nasty. If I didn't have so much riding on this, I'd love watching the two of you duke it out."
* * *
On Easter Sunday, the boys and I, Nona, Harriet, and Miriam attended a special children's service at Nona's church. The boys liked it better than the seder because there was more candy, but they didn't like it as well as the seder because they had to be quiet longer and wear suits. After church, we went back to Nona, Harriet, and Miriam's new house, a nice ranch with a big deck. We all changed into play clothes and played a game of croquet, which got very Alice-in-Wonderland-ish because the dogs kept carrying the balls away. "Just be glad your mallet isn't a flamingo," Miriam grinned at me when I complained that it wasn't fair that her dog Flopsy seemed to favor my green balls. "She's a dog!" I said. "She's supposed to be color blind! What does she know about green?"
"I'll let you in on a secret," Miriam said. "We've been using the green ones for retrieval practice. They smell like me."
"Swell," I said. "I'm doomed." I got down on my stomach and dug my ball out from under a hedge. There was a big pink plastic egg under there, too. "Here's one we missed," I said, and tossed it to Mark, who announced that pink was for girls and handed it off to Sammy, who brought it back to me. "You're a girl," he said. "Here."
"Thanks, but really boys and girls can both have any color they want." I gave it back to him, and he solemnly repeated the lesson to Mark, offering him the egg.
Harriet said, "The way you all're passing that egg off, you'd think it was going to explode." I laughed. "Are you glad to have the boys back?" she asked.
"I am," I said.
"And Hot Rod?"
"Happier than I can say."
"Has Sam filed for custody?" Nona asked.
"Not yet," I said.
"Well, let's keep our fingers crossed he gives it up as a lost cause," Miriam said.
"I suspect he's just planning strategy, and letting the memory of last Monday's fiasco dim," I answered.
"I'd better start the charcoal," Harriet said. "Hey, Louella, do you mind if May comes for dinner with us?"
"No," I said. "Go ahead and invite her."
"I already did," Harriet said.
I punched her in the arm. "I don't need you matchmaking for me, OK?"
"I think you do," she answered. "I think you do."
© Copyright 1997-2001 Su Penn. Design by David Dierauer.
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