Michael agreed to buy her share of the house, and by mid-November, Isabel moved into a new home with a sack of regret and a heart she no longer trusted.
The bungalow, though small, was near the beach in Half Moon Bay. Though only a rental, it was perfect for her until she figured out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
She took none of the furniture from the house in Palo Alto, preferring instead to furnish her new place with items of her own choosing. Things that didn’t have a past. At least not her past.
Being apart from Michael confirmed how much she loved him, but he had given her no choice, at least not in her mind. She felt strongly that she was meant to be a mother. And knowing it helped her deal with the pain of letting go of the dreams she’d once held for her future. But she knew that new dreams awaited her. And she had to be open to them.
As she explored the beach near her new home she wondered if, by making the decision to leave Michael, she had once again altered her life plan. She hoped she wasn’t causing more stress for poor Stanley. But for the first time in her life, she felt as though she was making decisions freely, unencumbered by coercion. And even though there was sadness, there was also joy, and hope for the future.
The jangling of her cell phone woke her from her afternoon nap, which had become a daily luxury, one she had come to depend on to get her through the day. She rubbed her eyes, tried to shake the dream she’d been having, but it clung to her like fog on a gray, misty morning. She’d been walking on the beach, a baby nestled to her chest, a man whose face she couldn’t quite make out beside her, a dog frolicking in the surf. They were a family, and she was happy.
Reluctantly, she flipped open the phone and greeted the unidentified caller.
“Hello, is this Isabel Stevens?” the caller asked.
“It’s Isabel Jameson now, but yes, this is she.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, dear. I didn’t know. This is Judith Masters calling. I’m a friend of—”
“My father’s. Yes, I know who you are. Is everything okay? Has something happened to my father?” Please God, no.
“No. No, everything is fine. I’m sorry to have worried you like that. It’s just that, your father and I would like to invite you for Thanksgiving dinner. Will you come?”
“Did my father ask you to call?” Isabel asked. She hadn’t spoken to him since the day she’d quit her job.
“Yes, he did.”
“I mean no disrespect, Judith, but please tell my father that if he would like to see me, he should call and invite me himself.”
Judith laughed. “I’ll be happy to deliver the message, Isabel. And I can tell, when we do meet, you and I are going to get along just fine.”
Isabel grinned. She liked the spark in Judith’s voice. It seemed her father had found himself a match. Someone who would take none of his bullshit.
Judith’s call came on Monday, three days before Thanksgiving. By Wednesday afternoon, her father had still not called to invite her to dinner the next day. She tried not to let it upset her, but as the day wore on, it became near impossible not to feel hurt.
She thought about her last meeting with her father, and for the first time, she could see that she’d been so determined to have her say that she’d completely ignored the pain in his eyes when she’d walked out on him. She knew she’d hurt him by quitting her job. Except to her father, it was far more than a job. It was a future, gift-wrapped in a shiny silver bow, lain neatly at her feet. Except that it wasn’t the future she wanted. So she’d returned it to him. And shitted all over it by telling him it was never the future she’d wanted, and then accused him of stealing the one she did want.
She wasn’t wrong to say the things she did, but her delivery could’ve been better. Maybe she should call him. Maybe she should start acting like an adult around him instead of an impetuous child, and make the first move.
She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone and punched in her father’s number. Her heart raced as she thought about what to say. I’m sorry? I hope you can forgive me? I miss you?
While she contemplated what to say, the doorbell rang. With the phone still pressed to her ear, she pulled open the door. And suddenly she knew just what to say. She snapped her phone closed. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you moved? I had to learn from your husband that you moved out, and that the two of you are getting a divorce. For God’s sake, Isabel, what the hell is going on with you?”
Isabel grinned sheepishly. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”
“Yeah, well, Judith tells me that if I want to see you, I need to ask you myself, so here I am.”
“I missed you, Daddy,” she said.
Donald Jameson let out a deep sigh, and his face softened. “I’ve missed you, too, pumpkin.”
She reached for his hand. “Come on, let’s go inside and have a glass of wine.”
Her father raised his index finger. “Wait. I have something in the car for you. Let me go get it. I’ll be right in.”
He returned a few minutes later with an appliance dolly stacked with file boxes. He lifted the dolly inside the house and stacked the boxes in the entryway of the tiny cottage.
“What’s in them?” she asked.
“Everything you ever wrote before you went to college. I never knew how good you were.” He took a step toward her and took both her hands in his. “Whatever you want to do for a living is fine by me. I just want you to be happy, my darling.”
“Oh, Daddy.” She folded herself into his arms.
He held her, and in that moment all was forgiven. All that remained was love.
The next day, over Thanksgiving dinner, her father announced that he and Judith were going to be married. “On Christmas Eve,” he said. “And I’d like for you to give me away.”
Swallowing a mouthful of stuffing, Isabel shook her head. “Never! I’ll never give you away, Daddy. You’re all I’ve got left.” She turned to Judith. “But I’ll be happy to share.”
Everyone laughed and Isabel offered a toast to the happy couple.
“Go ahead, Don, tell her the rest of the news,” Judith said. Turning to Isabel, she added, “And no, I’m not pregnant.”
The small dining room echoed with more laughter and her father turned serious. “As of December 15th, I will officially be retired.”
Isabel shrieked. “You’re lying.”
Her father’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nope, cross my heart and—”
“No, please, don’t say it. I believe you.” Isabel beamed with the happy news. She didn’t know if her last words to her father before she left his office that day had anything to do with her father’s decision, but she could not be happier. Life, it seemed, was looking up for all of them.
The ceremony took place in a small, private room at the Ritz Carlton, and was witnessed by Isabel and Graham, Judith’s son. No other guests were invited. The happy couple would be leaving the following day for a month-long trip through Europe, beginning in Ireland and ending in Croatia.
She kissed them both goodbye and laughed as her father picked up his bride and carried her away to the honeymoon suite.