THE PLANE WAS LEAVING THE tarmac at 6:45 p.m. and Donald slid the vinyl blind open so he could look out the window. The sun was just sinking below the horizon and fleshy hues dashed softly across the clouded sky. Soon, he thought, they would be above the clouds and he would leave the colours and the city behind him.
Donald was sick. In fact, he was dying. He still had some time; the disease was really only just starting to progress. He had his mobility and lucidity, but he didn’t know for how long, which is why he left.
Donald had purchased a one-way ticket. He sat in coach even though he could more than afford executive class. He was going to see his daughter, Jennifer. He hadn’t seen her in four years, since the wedding. He had never been much of a father but that was when things were at their worst. Now on the last few miles of his life, he would go to see if there was any redemption for him at all in her eyes. He had neglected her terribly when Annette was still alive. Annette, would she be waiting for him? At least he had been a faithful husband. He never betrayed her, but he was just never there.
I think she understood, Donald thought, wincingly. He was thinking of her in her last days and what she’d said to him.
“Don’t lose your window to be her father.”
Then she died with dignity like someone like her would. Donald looked out the plane window. The sky was a deep, dark blue with a few stubborn, fading colours. It looked like a bruise and reflected his pain. The attendant touched his arm.
“Would you care for a beverage, sir?”
“Water.”
“Of course.”
The attendant poured and passed then moved the trolley to the next aisle. Donald took a small sip from the cup and looked back out the window. The sky’s colours had vanished. Things change that quickly. Now the night was nothing but darkness. Donald reclined his seat slightly and tilted his head back against the headrest. He would try to sleep. He thought about the first time Jennifer slept in the new house when he and Annette brought her home from the hospital. Donald couldn’t remember the delivery, the birth or anything else from the hospital that day but he could remember with remarkable accuracy watching how his newborn daughter slept that night. He sat beside the crib in the antique wooden chair his wife had purchased only a month before for the room.
“This is for when you want to watch her,” Annette’s distant voice replayed softly in his ear.
A foolish extravagant purchase he had thought at the time, as he watched his child sleep and he himself began to doze. He had never since known a peace like that night.
The plane was quiet now. The attendant had finished her concessions and was somewhere in the back. The other passengers were mostly asleep though a few read books or magazines. He felt alone now, not lonely. There’s a difference between the two. He was alone and could finally be truly honest with himself. He probably wouldn’t even get in the front door. He might have a little under a minute to explain himself before she closed it on him. He had hurt her with what he’d said at the wedding.
“Thanks for coming, Dad. I know you’re busy.”
“I am these days darling, as always. Is this him?”
“Dad, meet Jim.”
“A pleasure to meet you sir.”
“What do you do with your time, son?”
“I’m in construction. A foreman actually.”
“I see. I suppose you’ll need my help often then with issues of finance.”
“Dad!”
“It’s all right, Jenny. Mr. Kroft, can I get you a drink?”
“I can find my way. Nice meeting you, John.”
It was no surprise his daughter had asked Jim’s father to make a speech at her wedding rather than him. That choice stung him, despite the endless vodka sodas he had consumed. She had done the right thing; at best he would have embarrassed her but more likely worse. Donald had passed the point of no return at nine that evening and the last thing he would remember from his only child’s wedding night were her last words to him. He had just entered the elevator of the ballroom to leave and she held the doors open, just as they were clamping shut.
“I have forgiven so much because I believed you were in pain over mom. I can’t forgive you for this one Dad, I just can’t.”
And the elevator doors closed. This was the last time she had spoken to him.
The seatbelt sign sounded and the lighting came on in the cabin. The captain made a brief announcement that they would be landing soon and the local time was 7:45 p.m. They had gained two hours in the air. Donald set his watch to the correct time and stood up to get his bag in the overhead bin. He reached for the latch and felt a hot wave wash over him; he suffered a powerful bout of vertigo and lost his balance. Another passenger caught him as he fell and helped him back to his feet.
“You alright buddy?”
“I … I think so, just need a little fresh air is all.”
The passenger lifted Donald’s bag out of the bin, pulled the luggage handle up for him and handed it to him.
Donald had not checked any other luggage and made his way outside the airport. The air outside was cool and there was a breeze which did wonders to restore his vitality. This sudden resurgence of energy made him aware of how nervous he was. He was only a few short kilometres from his daughter. He hailed a cab and gave the driver the address.
Donald rubbed his hands together in the back seat, trying to stay calm. What would he say when she opened the door?
The cab pulled up to the house and Donald paid the driver. It wasn’t until the brake lights of the cab had disappeared over the hill that Donald realized he was alone and hadn’t moved an inch from where he had stepped out of the cab. She was in there and he was afraid of being rejected by her, his only child, his daughter, a woman whose life he was mostly absent for and whom he barely knew. She probably hated him and thought of him only in moments of weakness and anger, he thought to himself. His whole life, his wealth, the money, everything but Annette felt like one big regret. He could leave now, walk away and no one would know he was ever there or know that he was a coward even in his last moment of real living. In his gut he knew his daughter would not speak with him and would close the door in his face. He could feel that awful feeling already, but he loved her. He’d always loved her from that first night he watched her sleep and every day after he loved her, even though his actions may have not reflected this.
He stepped forward towards the door.
His thoughts pulled at him to such a painful degree that he felt physically hurt from the mental stress as he managed his way to the front door. He made a fist to knock. He hesitated again just before his knuckles struck the surface of the door; he had thought of nothing to say. He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white as he rapped on the door. He took a step back absently and waited.
The latch on the door turned and Donald felt his heart become swollen in his chest and beat on him like an eight-ounce glove.
When the door opened it was his daughter who spoke first.
“What are you doing here?” She looked more surprised at first but then he could see irritation flit into her eyes.
“I came to see you.” He sounded meek, not like himself and feared his lack of confidence would only further her annoyance.
“Why?”
He looked at her without saying anything for only a moment. He wanted to take the easy way out, deal the death card. But he didn’t, he didn’t want her back that way. He wanted her to forgive him or at the very least let him tell her he was sorry.
“I got on a plane this evening because I wanted to see you. I didn’t plan it, I just had to do it.”
“Well, you’ve seen me, now I think you should go.”
He had lost her already but was not ready to give up, not after making it this far.
“You know I’m an asshole, I know I’m an asshole. I was engrossed with my career when I was working. I made a lot of money that now disgusts me. I miss your mother. I was a terrible husband and an even worse father. I’m no good and I’ve always known it.”
Donald looked at his daughter. He had experienced his first moment of true humility and that was enough. She said nothing. He said nothing. He turned and made his way down the steps of the porch.
“Mr. Kroft?
Donald turned and found Jim standing behind his daughter in the doorway. He was an honest and decent man who ensured his daughter’s happiness and safety, when Donald could not. Jennifer looked up at her husband; he stood much taller than she and was offering her his confidence in the moment.
“Would you like to see your grandson?”
“Yes, I would.” His lack of hesitation in answering surprised his daughter more than it did himself.
Jim invited him in. The interior of the home was warm and felt lived-in. The furnishing was modest but cared for. Donald could see a small fireplace burning hardwood in the living room. He was proud of his daughter and her honest achievements. They didn’t need him but he would still offer the papers he’d brought. Jennifer watched her father as he absorbed his surroundings. She softened a little, sensing his vulnerability.
Upstairs the three of them entered a quiet room. The room was familiar, so much so that Donald felt immediately at ease.
“Would you like me to wake him?” asked his daughter.
Donald looked at the small child sleeping soundly in the crib. He could see himself in his daughter’s work. He looked over at her; his eyes were red and heavy.
“If I could just sit for a while, you know, and watch him…” Donald trailed off, not really sure if he would be granted this small favour, or if he actually deserved it.
Jim went and fetched a chair and set it beside the crib. The two young parents left the room and Donald stood there for a moment, a small tear passing across his smiling lips. He walked towards his sleeping grandchild and took a seat in his wife’s antique wooden chair.