A Father’s Love

By JudyL

Posted - April 10, 2011

*******************

I realize that my sons think I'm a bad father. And they are probably correct. But in my own defense I must say I was not the least bit prepared to be a single father. It just wasn't something I ever expected to have to deal with.

Of the few divorced couples I did know with children, the mother always had custody of the children and the father visited on weekends and holidays. Thank God for Sally.

I can't say I was completely surprised when Grace left. Between her own difficulties and my inability to offer her any solace with regards to them and my attempt to hide in my work, it was only a matter of time before the marriage failed.

I'm a bit surprised it lasted as long as it did. It probably would have been better if there weren't two young boys to suffer during the breakdown of our marriage, but I'd be lying if I said I wish the boys had never been born.

Those two are my life. Especially now, but even back then, when all I could offer them was a house to live in, food on the table, a good education and Sally. I never received more than that from my old man. It's a shame it took me over thirty years to learn how to be a father.

Now I just have to prove to Jimmy and Stevie that I can be… if not a father, because it's probably too late for that, maybe a friend? Somehow I think Steven will be a little easier to reach if only because he followed me into the business world. We'll have common topics to discuss.

I've already made a few initial attempts with Stevie and his current love interest. I will not make judgments. I will let him make his own choice in his friends and who he will marry.

That's another thing I didn't really have a choice in. Not that it's an excuse. Grace was a fine woman. Smart, pretty, well-educated. I just didn't love her with all my heart. The woman I fell in love with was not acceptable to my father. I believe she married some years later and has a family of her own now.

Anyway. Grace came from the "right" side of town. Her parents were financially and socially accepted in our circle, so the match was made. Honestly, neither of us complained about the arrangement. It was just accepted then. Just like, I'm sure Grace just accepted that she had to stay with me for those ten long years.

Jim was born barely a year after we were married. Grace started having her trouble during the pregnancy. I know now that she shared the same gift Jimmy has, but back then, well, it was considered a side effect of the pregnancy. Her sensitivities to smells, tastes, bright lights all made her pregnancy miserable. Some days she could barely tolerate anything touching her skin.

I wish I'd known then how to help her.

The strange thing was that after Jimmy was born, her senses returned mostly to normal. She still had some days when things overwhelmed her, but for the most part she managed.

Jimmy was a good baby, which looking back is rather surprising considering his gifts. I can recall little things that tell me he had enhanced senses almost from birth. Somehow he wasn't disturbed by things like Grace was. I don't know why. Probably never will.

Her pregnancy with Stevie went much smoother, but after he was born, Grace's senses began to give her more trouble. We hired Sally to help out with the housework. The business was doing quite well and needless to say I wasn't home much.

Although I'm sure it was gradual, I saw Grace's decline in dramatic spurts. Every time I came back from a business trip, she would be more withdrawn, more sensitive. I finally demanded that she see a doctor.

The doctor passed her on to a psychiatrist who said it was all psycho-somatic. Post-partum depression or some such nonsense. Even I could see that she was truly sensitive to certain stimuli.

We went to more doctors, more psychologists, and Grace got worse. We even tried holistic medicine. Meditation worked for a while, but did not solve the basic problem.

By the time Stevie was four, Grace never left the house.

A business associate suggested a yoga instructor that his wife went to. She was happy to make house calls for a fee. Twice a week she came to the house and Grace improved. She started having Tawny over more often. I suppose I should have realized then that something was going on. Somehow Tawny was reaching Grace on a level no one else could, even the boys.

Less than six months later, Grace told me she wanted a divorce. She moved in with Tawny until the divorce was finalized. As soon as the papers were signed, she took off with Tawny to parts unknown. I haven't heard from her since.

I think I was in shock when Grace moved out. I think that's why I came down so hard on Jimmy about his senses.

It's not that I was really going to miss Grace, I just couldn't believe she could abandon our boys. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad she didn't want custody. I really don't know what would have happened to them if they had gone to live with Grace. Actually, I don't believe she was capable of caring for them at that time. But she was improving. I don't understand why she never came back to visit. She never even collected anymore alimony after that.

Jimmy was ten the year Grace disappeared from our lives for good. And that mess with the Country Club Strangler and Bud's death really pushed me over the edge.

I had seen Jimmy using his senses his whole life. It was unconscious and natural for him. He never seemed to have the problems Grace did. And I squelched them. Just like turning off a faucet.

Now I've done some things in my life, in my business dealings that I'm not proud of, but that moment when I told Jimmy to stop lying about what he saw so that people wouldn't think he was a freak… that was the lowest point in my life.

I lost my son for the first time that day.

Later I tried to win back his love and only succeeded in pushing both my sons away. Material gains I understood. Material rewards for good grades, for good behavior. And rewards are only effective if given as incentive. I couldn't give both the boys a reward at the same time.

God! I was so wrong!

The thing is, I didn't even realize how horrible a father I was until Jim looked me in the eye at his high school graduation. I'll never forget what he said.

"Dad. I'll be eighteen in a few weeks. I'm going to join the army and go through college on the army bill. I just thought you should know."

And that's all I ever got. No explanation, and believe me, I ranted and raved for quite some time. Jim had offers to go to several quite prestigious colleges and he wanted to go into the army?

Yes, I did finally realize that he just wanted out of my house. Away from me. And I had made it even easier by building a wall between him and Steven.

So, Jim went away to attend college via the army. I heard from him occasionally. Mostly through Sally. He corresponded with her on a regular basis. I think Sally is the only reason he sent holiday greetings to me and Stevie those first few years.

Then the army really took my son in. Jimmy was made for Special Ops, of course the army had no way of knowing that, and truthfully I think Jimmy had forgotten about his gifts, or buried the knowledge of them so deep that it didn't matter. I hadn't seen him use any of his abilities since the day Bud was killed.

Steven moved out not too long after he graduated high school too. However he just moved into the dorms at Washington University. Sally, for some reason, stayed. Her husband of ten years had passed away just before Jimmy left and I offered her room and board in addition to her regular pay.

I wanted the company. I needed the company.

And after I received the news that Jim's unit had been killed in Peru, I don't think I would have survived without Sally.

Steven made a few attempts to get the "family" back together after that. We spent the holidays together, me and Stevie and Sally. Quiet, formal dinners with inane talk about the weather, business and politics. Impersonal gifts were exchanged at Christmas, except for those to and from Sally.

Bless the woman. She tried so hard to get the conversation to turn to more personal talk. She only mentioned Jimmy once. I don't even remember what I shouted at her, but it effectively broke up the evening.

Almost two years later I was surprised to see Jimmy's name in the paper associated with some high profile police case. That's how I found out my oldest son was alive, through a newspaper article.

I called Steven right away and asked him if he'd seen it. He was just as surprised as I was. Surprised, confused, hurt and oh so glad that Jim was alive and well and home.

It took very little time to track him down. Jim's number was listed in the phone directory. I called the number after 7pm that night. I assumed he'd be home by then. I got an answering machine. I left a message.

Several days passed and I called back only to leave another message. I was beginning to wonder if the machine was working. Finally I called the Cascade Police Department. I asked for James Ellison and found out he was working in Robbery. I'm pretty sure he was there, but they asked if I wanted to leave a message.

A message, no, no, I suppose not. I got his message loud and clear. Jim didn't want to talk to me. Not now, maybe not ever. I had just gotten my son back and now he was lost to me again.

I'm not sure if Steven ever got in touch with him those first five years after he got back from Peru. I did my own research and found out everything I could about his time in the Rangers and then kept up with his time with the PD.

I silently cringed when he switched to Vice, knowing how dangerous his assignments might be. My heart swelled with pride when he got promoted and moved into Major Crimes. Although their cases were no less dangerous.

I secretly hoped Jim might call when I read about his engagement to Carolyn Plummer but the wedding came and went without a word.

Steve and I continued to work on our relationship, sharing holidays with Sally, and even the occasional night out for no other reason than to just visit.

I think we both avoided talking about Jim to keep from opening old wounds. Heaven knows Stevie has as much reason to hate me as Jim does. But I think we both wanted to salvage our relationship and for the time being that meant not rehashing old hurts.

I cried for Jimmy when I found out about his divorce knowing how hard he would take it. Knowing he would blame himself for what he perceived as his failure to make the marriage work. I wished I could tell him that it wasn't his fault, that it took two people to make it work. But I'd lost that right years ago.

The next year was especially hard for Jim I think. I could only go by the second hand reports of friends, but he seemed to be withdrawing further into himself. It seemed his partner had gone missing and was suspected of taking off with some ransom money. All I know was that things changed right around the time of the Switchman case. When Blair Sandburg showed up.

~~~~~~~

I can't take my eyes off of him. My son. Jim. He's standing behind the paramedic as he checks out my head. God please let me say the right thing. If I can only reach that small part of him that embraced me a short time ago, maybe…

He sees his friend Sandburg walking toward us and goes to meet him. I can just barely make out the conversation.

"How's your Dad, Jim?" Sandburg asks.

Jim shrugs. "Okay, I think. The paramedics are checking him out, but I think he'll be fine." He puts a hand on Sandburg's shoulder. "Thanks for helping him, Chief."

"Hey," Sandburg says with a grin. "No problem."

They stand in silence for a few seconds as Jim looks around apparently uncomfortable. "Uh, Chief, do you mind catching a ride with Simon? I'd like to go to the hospital with him."

Sandburg's eyebrows ride up high on his forehead but he nods. "Sure, Jim. If you're sure."

Jim grins. "Yeah, Blair. I'm sure. Thanks."

 

Then he's walking back over to me. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until he gives me a small grin and I exhale. My return smile must have been huge because Jimmy's grin widens and he rests one hand on my shoulder.

"They're going to take you to the hospital, Dad," he says, his eyes scanning the bruise on my face again. "I'll follow in my truck so I can take you home when they're done. Okay?" he asks sounding suddenly much younger and more like a son waiting for his father's approval than a grown police detective.

My heart swells with love and pride. My son has learned to forgive, to give people a second chance. Who taught him this? I'm not sure. It certainly wasn't me. My gaze wanders over to Blair Sandburg.

"Dad?" Now he's looking at me as if expecting rejection.

"That would be great, Jimmy. Thank you." I can see the relief on his face although he quickly schools his features, once again the responsible detective.

~~~~~~~

I'm not sure why I'm standing in front of Jim's door. I could have just dropped his jacket off at the precinct. He lent it to me as we left the hospital and I forgot to give it back. It was a strange role reversal, Jim taking care of me. Though truthfully I don't recall many instances where I was the caregiver.

It was not considered appropriate to hug your son or offer comfort through touch once he reached a certain age. Ever since Jim hugged me in the park, all I can think about is the need I have to hug him until he understands how much I love him. I wonder how my son would take that?

I haven't been to his place before. The building is old, but the neighborhood seems nice enough. A little run down maybe, but with signs of improvement.

I wonder if Blair Sandburg will be home? I've done my research, I know he's a teaching assistant at Rainier. I know he's been living here for the last two years or so. I don't really know what their relationship is.

I suppose I'm scared to find out, but I'm determined not to judge. The one thing I do know is that Jimmy will not hesitate to protect his friends, even from me. I can't chance losing him again because my world view and his don't mesh.

Okay, here goes nothing. I knock on the door squeezing the life out of Jim's jacket as I wait for him to answer.

The door opens and I don't know who is more surprised. Blair Sandburg stares at me for a few moments then blinks and pastes on an uncertain smile.

"Mr. Ellison. Ah, Jim's not here right now."

 

Hmmm. Maybe this is a good time to "meet" Blair Sandburg. "Oh, well, I just wanted to return his jacket," I say, holding the article out to Sandburg.

He takes it and we stand there for another few seconds. He clears his throat, making a decision.

"I'm not sure when he'll be back. Would you like to wait?" Sandburg opens the door a bit wider as an invitation.

Should I? I don't think Jim will appreciate me questioning his friend. But how else can I learn about my son? "If you don't mind," I respond earnestly.

Sandburg gives a little nod and motions me into the apartment. I'm a bit surprised by the place. It's… homey. Comfortable. It's decorated with a mix of comfortable, practical furnishings and a dash of the eclectic. Tribal masks, modern photo art, a fishing poster?

"Would you like some tea?" Sandburg asks watching me look around. The young man is practically vibrating.

"That would be nice," I say, moving into the living area. The shelves contain books ranging from mystery and police thrillers to autobiographies and a few that I am sure are Sandburg's. The Mating Rituals of … I'm not sure how to pronounce that. There are a few knick knacks. A very fancy fishing lure, some kind of clay pot and several photos of Jim and Blair along with other people that I don't recognize.

There's an old photo of Jim and Steve when they were young and a newer one with both in tuxes. I wonder when that was taken. They look happy.

"Here you go, Mr. Ellison," Sandburg says, handing me a steaming cup and gesturing for me to take a seat.

Blowing on the tea to cool it and taking a few sips gives us both a few minutes to collect ourselves. God this is awkward. How should I start? So I understand you help Jim with his senses. Do you help him with other things too? No. I don't think that would be appropriate. I don't really want to know if my son is sleeping with this man. Do I? It's none of my business. I guess I just want to know that he's happy.

Sandburg clears his throat. I look up at him and see he is as nervous as I am. I give him a small smile and can see him relax. My eyebrows rise in confusion and he chuckles.

"Sorry," Sandburg says shaking his head. "I was just surprised to see Jim's smile on your face." He shrugs. "Must be an Ellison thing."

"You and Jim are close," I say not quite asking.

Sandburg nods, suddenly serious. "He's my best friend. Jim's like a brother to me."

I don't want to push that subject so I switch to another concern. "Jimmy said you help him with his senses."

Sandburg tenses and stands to pace beside the couch. "I don't think I should discuss that with you until I talk to Jim, Mr. Ellison."

I nod, accepting that he will protect Jim as Jim will protect him. "I understand, Mr. Sandburg. I'm glad Jim has such a good friend."

He sits down with a sigh. "Call me Blair, sir. I'm only Mr. Sandburg to my students and that makes me feel old enough."

I have to grin at that. This young man feeling old, he can't be more than mid twenties. "All right. Then you call me William or Will, Blair."

Blair smiles at me. It's an infectious smile full of warmth and intelligence. His energy reminds me of someone, I can't recall who though.

We are saved from having to make small talk when Jim comes in. He stops and stares at us for a moment then offers a small smile.

"Chief," he says, nodding at Sandburg, then Jim focuses on me. "Hi, Dad. What brings you by?"

"I forgot to give you your jacket the other night," I stand, hoping for, well I'm not sure what.

Jim lifts his chin a bit, remembrance showing in his eyes. "Oh, well, thanks. You didn't have to make the trip over here for that though," he says, moving closer to the sitting area.

I glance at Blair, should I ask to speak to Jim privately or just… "Actually, I was hoping we might be able to get together some time, Jimmy."

Jim's eyes widen as they dart from me to Blair and back again. I can see disbelief, fear, suspicion, hope and love in that gaze. The emotions flitting in those blue eyes tear at my heart and yet, they also give me hope.

Blair smiles enigmatically and leans back into the chair remaining inconspicuous, but supportive. I wonder again who exactly this young man is and how he fits into my son's life.

Jim clears his throat. "Um, yeah. Yes, sir. I'd like that," he replies with a slight grin.

I smile back and move to stand next to him. "Good. My schedule is pretty clear." Actually the business has been busier than ever, but I'll drop anything to meet Jim's schedule.

He nods. "Let me call you. Maybe later this week?"

"That would be wonderful, Jimmy," I turn and look at Blair. "And Blair could join us if you like." Blair smiles at me, but when I face Jimmy again I'm stunned by the pleased grin on his face.

We exchange a few words of farewell and I find myself outside the door wondering what I could have said in such a few short moments to win Jimmy over like that.

~~~~~~~~~

Somehow this is what I expected, to be having dinner with Jim and Blair. We chose a quiet Italian restaurant with secluded booth tables. Jim and Blair are sitting on one side of the table and me on the other.

We order drinks and appetizers then the silence sets in while we all pretend to study the menus. I'm trying to think of a way to start the conversation when Blair begins to tell a story about some tribe he studied several years ago.

Jim and I listen, laughing at the appropriate times and finally the waiter comes with our salads and takes our orders. Blair continues the story once the waiter leaves.

Should I try to talk to Jim with Sandburg here? I'd like to try and understand what's going on with Jimmy. It seems that Blair knows. Just then Blair stands and excuses himself to the restroom. Has he finished the story? I look at Jim embarrassed to realize I hadn't been paying attention.

Jim grins at me. "It's okay Dad. He's used to me half tuning him out."

I smile slightly. "I'll apologize when he gets back." I take a deep breath and plunge right in. Sometimes the direct route is the best. "Jim, I need to apologize to you as well." He frowns and shakes his head. "No, Jimmy, please, let me finish. I'm sorry I didn't try to understand you and support you when you were younger. I was scared of what might happen if someone found out what you could do. I didn't know how to protect you."

I pause trying to read the cold face in front of me. He certainly learned a lot more from his old man than I thought. It's seems there's more than one Stone Face Ellison in town. "If it's not too late," I continue hesitantly, "I'd like for us to get to know each other. I know I wasn't much of a father, but maybe we can be friends?"

Jim's frozen façade slips a little. I can see that he's considering my words. He meets my eyes. "Dad…" Jimmy's voice catches and he clears his throat. "I never thought we'd get this far." His eyes are over-bright as he continues. "I'd like to try."

"Thank you, son. You don't know how much this means to me."

He tilts his head with a wry little grin. "I have some idea, Dad."

I look around then. "Blair's been gone a while."

Jim tilts his head for a second then grins. "He's waiting for us to 'talk.'" Jimmy shakes his head fondly. "I'd better go get him or he'll stay in there all night."

As he stands I catch his arm. "Jimmy, I'd like to understand everything."

Comprehension fills his eyes. Jim looks toward the back of the restaurant where Blair waits then back at me. He nods slowly. "Not here. Come back to the loft after dinner?"

I nod and watch as he strides through the restaurant. Finally, maybe I'll learn what my son is living with. And what my wife went through.

~~~~~~~~~

Even though it sounds incredible, I have to believe what they told me. I've seen with my own eyes, so to speak what Blair described. Jim is a Sentinel. Grace was a Sentinel. But if that's so, what does that make Tawny? Grace's Guide? Like Blair is Jim's?

That might explain why Grace trusted her so much, if Tawny could help her control her senses. God. What must she have been going through? And Jim? My poor son, with no one to turn to, to confide in. Until now. Until Blair Sandburg.

But he let me in. Jim opened up to me a little tonight and let me see what my son has become. A champion of right, a defender of the weak. A guardian of the people. I have no right, but I am so proud of him. I only hope that one day I can tell him that and it will mean something to him. At this moment, the sentiment would be dismissed, but… maybe someday.

 The end…

Feedback is always welcome. JudyL

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