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Claudia found Stan standing outside the dining room. He was standing off to the side in an out-of-the-way spot, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. He was nursing a bloodied hand. He must have cut himself when he was picking up shards of broken glass.
“That looks painful,” she said as she approached him.
“Oh, Claudia. Hello. It’s no big deal.” Stan hesitated and then reluctantly asked, “I suppose you saw and heard everything that happened in the dining room a moment ago?”
“I did.”
He grimaced. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not the one who should be embarrassed.”
“Yeah, well don’t hold your breath waiting for my father to show any remorse,” Stan advised, his disgust plain to see. “That man has no shame, no decency...he’s always been a racist, sexist jerk with a mean streak, but I swear he’s gotten even worse in his old age. He has no filter. None. It’s awful going anywhere with him because I never know what he might do or say.”
Claudia handed Stan some tissues from her purse and gave him a sympathetic look. “I can’t even imagine what that must be like. I’m very sorry. I take it your father has had outbursts like this before?”
“Oh, yes. Plenty.” Stan wrapped the tissues around his bleeding hand and sighed deeply. “It used to be maybe once or twice a year that he’d lose his temper in a big, public sort of way. Now it feels like it’s practically every other week. Back home, he’s been banned from his favorite casino for being abusive toward the staff.”
“That’s awful. I know it’s none of my business, but do you suppose there might be some medical cause for his worsening behavior?” Claudia asked.
“His doctors say he’s in the early stages of dementia,” Stan replied. “But make no mistake; it isn’t the dementia that’s making him mean and bigoted. He’s always been that way. He made my childhood a nightmare - especially when I was a teenager and brought home a girlfriend who wasn’t white.”
“Yikes. Should I even ask?”
Stan shook his head. “Let’s just say she dumped me the very next day.”
Claudia looked at Stan sadly. She could tell he was hurting. It seemed as though he had bottled up his frustration and hurt for so long that he was dying to vent to someone. If she was able to lend a sympathetic ear, then she was happy to do so. She felt for the guy.
“What he said in there wasn’t the whole story,” Stan suddenly told Claudia.
“What do you mean?”
“My father said I can’t find a woman. I suppose technically it’s true - I’m a lifelong bachelor, I’m sorry to say. But he made it sound like there’s something wrong with me. There isn’t,” Stan insisted. “Any time I’ve tried to date over the years, my father has chased romantic interests off. Women catch a glimpse of what he’s like and bail. I can’t say I blame them.”
“I apologize if this is out of line, but...why do you put up with it?” Claudia asked curiously. “From what you’re saying, your father controls your life. He routinely humiliates you in public and has prevented you from settling down with a life partner. Why do you allow it?”
Stan went quiet. “He’s family,” he finally replied. “He’s been frail and sickly for decades now. He needs help with day-to-day tasks. If I don’t look after him, who will?”
“You told me you two go on multiple cruises a year,” Claudia reminded him. “That can’t be cheap. I’m not trying to pry into your finances or anything, but...if you have the money to travel that much, maybe you could afford to hire someone to help your father with his care?”
“Good luck with that,” Stan told her with a bitter laugh. “Most of the home care nurses in our area are female and non-white. As I said, my father is a sexist, racist jerk. I have no doubt he would make them quit within the week.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Yeah. And regardless of sex or race, my father is basically horrible to everyone. I’m a white man and you heard how he spoke to me. Only I don’t have the luxury of giving two weeks notice because, you know...family.” Stan looked defeated.
“I wish I knew how to help,” Claudia told him sincerely.
“This helped,” Stan replied, forcing a small smile. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to...someone to listen to me. Thank you.” He then seemed to notice her formal attire for the first time. “You look really nice, by the way. I like your dress.”
“Thank you. That’s a pretty spiffy suit you’ve got on.”
“Thanks.” He hesitated and then asked, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in continuing our conversation tomorrow over breakfast? My father sleeps late, so it would just be us. I hate to be a burden, but I could really use a sympathetic ear.”
Claudia didn’t know what to say. Was Stan asking her on a breakfast date? She took a moment to answer, wanting to choose her words with care. Finally, she reminded him of Scott’s existence as gently as she could. “I’m afraid I already have plans. My boyfriend and I are planning to have breakfast together.”
She saw Stan’s face fall. It felt like a knife had been driven into her heart and twisted.
Feeling guilty for rejecting someone who was clearly in immense pain, she quickly added, “I don’t know what time we’ll be eating breakfast, but if we happen to run into each other, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Maybe I will,” Stan replied. “Maybe I will.”
