The Conversation

"Hi Dad, it’s Jesse. How are you doing this evening? Are you ready for supper? They’re rolling the trolley with trays down the hall. It's Thursday, so I think that means meatloaf."

"I’m not hungry. You’re Jesse? You look like Evan to me."

"I get that a lot lately. But I’m Jesse."

"Hello, Jesse."

"Nobody turned on your music for you this afternoon?"

"It’s all right. I’ve been thinking."

"Thinking? You looked like you were snoozing when I walked in."

"That too. I need to talk with your mother. I haven’t seen her all day. Do you know where she is?"

"I do, Dad. I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but Mom is gone."

"What do you mean she’s gone?"

"She passed away before you got sick. Do you remember the visits with the oncologist?"

"The oncologist. Your mother had cancer, didn’t she. How-how could I have forgotten that?"

"It’s not your fault, Dad, you had a brain injury. The stroke messed with a lot of your memories. "

"But how could I forget your mother’s cancer?"

"It’s okay, Dad. Here, let me get you a tissue."

"Did I take care of her? I was such a bad husband."

"You were a bad husband—until you sobered up. But that was a long time ago, Dad. You turned your life around and, during Mom's illness, you were really supportive and attentive."

"I was?"

"You were exemplary. Mom told me that after you sobered up it was like she had gotten back the romantic guy she fell in love with in school. Your recovery brought her more joy than I think either of us will ever know."

"She said that?"

"She did. Multiple times, in a variety of ways. And she showed it. Everyone around her loved seeing how much she adored you, including me. And you inspired me to be a better husband to Nancy."

"Your wife’s name is Nancy? I thought that was Jesse’s wife’s name."

"It is. I'm Jesse, Dad. Here, have another tissue. I married my best friend right out of high school, just like you did."

"Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve just remembered that I ruined your wedding. I got drunk at the reception, and–"

"No, Dad, that was Evan’s wedding. And they didn’t serve alcohol at the reception. You just showed up drunk. Do you remember showing up drunk?"

"Oh, God. Yes, I showed up drunk. After I wasn't invited to my oldest son's wedding."

"It was pretty bad. You caused the accident that made Lacey wheelchair-dependent."

"You never spoke to me again after that, Evan, and I don’t blame you. I wish I could go back and make that right."

"Dad, I'm Je— … You're right, I never spoke to you after you put the love of my life in a wheelchair. After you got into the program and we saw that you were really trying to change, Lacey wanted me to tell you that we forgave you, but I refused. I couldn't find it within myself. And I had a hard time forgiving Mom for reconciling with you. I didn't speak to Jesse for three years after he worked things out with you."

"I didn't know … They didn't tell me."

"I was angry. I threatened them. For a time, I took up drinking and became you—the old you, the mean drunk."

"You, Evan? You were so caring and protective as a boy. I can't imagine you being mean to anyone, least of all your mother and little brother."

"It was the alcohol, Dad. And the anger over how you had treated us."

"I hit you boys. I was such a bad father! And the whole time I was doing it, it shocked me and I didn't believe I could do that to someone I loved, or thought I loved. And I hit you the most, Evan. I'm so sorry—so very sorry."

"You didn't have a choice about that, Dad. I provoked you on purpose so you would wear yourself out beating me and not have energy to beat Mom or Jesse."

"You were a better man than me, even as a boy. Does Jesse know you did that for him?"

"Oh, yes, Jesse knows, and he knew then."

"How are you boys now? Do you talk?"

"We're close friends, Dad. We had a rough time of it while Ev— while I was drinking, but I've been clean for seven years now. We're good."

"I'm glad to hear that. Thank you for telling me."

"You look like you have a question. What is it, Dad?"

"Is it too late?"

"Too late for what?"

"To ask for your forgiveness. Of all the people I hurt when I was a drunk, I think I hurt you the most, and in the worst way. And I can't—I can't—oh, Evan, I am just so sorry … And Lacey! How can she ever forgive me?"

"She did, Dad, and she does. If she could be here right now to tell you herself, she would."

"Thank you. I don't deserve a son like you or a daughter-in-law like her. You don't know how much good that does my heart. I have ached for so very long over what I did to you and caused for her. I couldn't bring myself to believe you could forgive me."

"I forgive you, and I love you for the good things you brought into our lives. You weren't always drunk. Somehow you've got to let those bad memories go and remember the good. We still talk about the awesome summer hikes you took us on. And I wouldn't have a thriving custom furniture business now if you hadn't spent so much time in the wood shop with us. Fortunately, you were smart enough to stay sober in the shop."

"I'm an alcoholic, not a total idiot. At least, not when it comes to power tools."

"Right. Then, when you finally decided to straighten out your life, even before you got through the entire program, you started mentoring other men with addictions. In the last fifteen years, you've helped to change a lot of lives and save a lot of families. I'm sorry your stroke cheated you out of those memories."

"Where is Jesse? I need have this conversation with him and tell him how wonderful I think Nancy is."

"They know, and they love you, and they deeply admire the man you became after you quit drinking."

"Thank you, Evan—wait, you're Jesse, aren't you? I've called you Evan all this time."

"It's okay, Dad. I understood your heart."

"Oh, Beverly! You're finally here—I've been waiting for you all day … "

"No, Mom isn't here, she—"

"Dad?"

"Oh, Dad …"

* * *

"I'm okay, babe. Well, I'm mostly okay. Even though we expected this, I didn't expect it today, you know? I think I just have to sign some papers, or something, for them to do the necessary stuff. You don't need to come down here—unless you really want to."

"I want to, sweetie. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"Thanks. You sure?"

"Patti, tell Mike I'm leaving early. Jesse's dad. Sweetie, I'm walking out right now. I need to be with you, and I want to say goodbye to your dad. As mean as he could be to you and Evan, he was always good to me. Have you called Evan yet?"

"Thanks, babe, I always want you with me. And—speak of the devil—that's him ringing in now. What weird timing."

"I'll be there soon."

"Wow, that took a few rings. Did I catch you in the middle of something, little bro? Is it a bad time?"

"I was talking with Nancy, but I was going to call you shortly."

"Listen, how's Dad? Is he alert? Or is he sundowning?"

"He's, well …"

"Lacey and I decided I need to come see him in person, not just tell him on the phone that we forgave him a long time ago and we love him. Especially since you told me that the stroke only left him memories of the rift between us. So we're catching a flight tomorrow."

"You told him all that tonight."

"I did what?"

"He thought I was you—again—and so, as you, I forgave him and told him that Lacey and I love him. I hope you're okay with that."

"Well, yeah, as long as you're okay with his calling you by the wrong name."

"He's done that practically my whole life."

"Anyway, I know he won't remember, but can you tell him I'm coming to see him?"

"I would, but—Mom came and got him a little while ago. He's with her now."

"You there, bro?"

"I'm here. Jesse, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"I'm telling you that you had a really good conversation with Dad, and he finally had a measure of peace, knowing that both of his sons forgave him for the bad parts of our lives and loved him for the good parts."

"You pretended to be me?"

"It felt necessary in the moment. And, for some reason tonight it felt necessary for me to record whatever Dad said, so you can listen to your conversation with him when you get here."

"Thank you for that. And thank you for being my brother. I'm sorry you lost your dad, and I'm sorry I wasn't there. But I will be tomorrow."

"I'm sorry you lost your dad, too. I love you, Evan."

"I love you too, Jesse."