Worthy Opponents(33)

He had his own problems too. He was worried about his son Zack floating around Europe. When was he going to get his act together and go back to school, and find a career path he wanted to pursue? Mike was tired of Maureen blaming him for putting too much pressure on his son. If he didn’t, who would? It was time for Zack to come home. He had been gone for eight months, and he seemed no closer to finding a direction than he had when he left. And Mike worried about him being so far away.

He’d been trying to reach Zack for three days, with no response, and complained about it to Maureen when he saw her in the kitchen one night, while they both dug in the fridge for something to eat for another dinner they wouldn’t eat together. He was tired of that too. There was a lot he was tired of these days. And Maureen’s constantly hostile, critical attitude was high on the list.

They sat down at the kitchen table at the same time, each with a salad. They no longer ate meals together, except if they turned up in the kitchen at the same time. And when they did, they rarely talked. More often than not, she read a book, or her texts, so she didn’t have to talk to him.

Their going to the Met party together had been a rare exception. They only did it because they didn’t want the people they knew socially to suspect that their marriage had fallen apart. Maureen had agreed to go, grudgingly and with a long face, but she was there.

“Have you heard from Zack?” he asked her when she sat down. “He’s not answering me. I don’t like it when he does that.”

“Then stop bugging him about going back to school,” she snapped at him. “Maybe then he’ll want to talk to you.”

“I asked him if he needed money. That usually works,” he said caustically. Mike had come to hate who he had become with Maureen. He had begun speaking to her the way she spoke to him, which was hateful. They brought out the worst in each other and had for years. Hers was because she was so bitter and resentful, and his responses were a reaction to hers. Whatever the reason, it was a miserable way to live, or treat another person, or be treated.

“He was going to Amsterdam after Munich,” she said in a more neutral tone.

“I don’t like his going there, with the ‘coffee shops.’ They’ll be stoned the whole time they’re there. It’s the only reason they wanted to go.”

“That’s not true. There are some wonderful museums there,” she said naively.

“You have more faith in our son than I do,” Mike said. “That’s a lot of temptation for three eighteen-year-olds. When are they going back to Paris, or London?”

“I don’t know. Soon,” she said. “That’s the whole point of his being there. He’s not on a schedule, and he doesn’t have to answer to us.” But Mike thought he did. He was just a kid.

“He needs to come home. Don’t you worry about him? I worry about him all the time.”

“That’s because you don’t have faith in our children,” she said, accusing him again. Whatever he did or said was always wrong.

“No. It’s because I was an eighteen-year-old boy once too. They do dumb stuff. And I was tamer than most.”

“So is he,” she said calmly. “If you’d just get off his back, he could prove it to you. He’s a great kid.”

“I know he is, but the world can be a dangerous place, especially today. And he’s far from home.”

“He’s done fine for eight months.” That much was true, but Mike worried anyway. He felt better when the kids were at home. He worried less about Jenny, in the regulated structure of Stanford, living in the dorm. She was more mature and less adventuresome than her brother, although they were only a year apart. “You know, you ruined Zack with all the pressure you put on him to achieve,” Maureen said, as Mike finished his salad and felt a fist clench in his stomach. He hated it when she said things like that. He felt instantly guilty, with a terror that she was right.

“I’m trying not to do that anymore,” Mike said quietly.

“It’ll take him years to recover, if he ever does.”

Mike couldn’t stand it anymore. Added to the malaise he was feeling over the deal with Spencer Brooke going sour, having Maureen heap guilt on him again over their children was just too much, and more than he could tolerate at the moment. He not only felt that he had failed his children, but he felt now as though he had failed Spencer because he couldn’t make the deal work for her.

“Are you talking about Zack or yourself?” he asked Maureen across the table. She hesitated before she answered.

“Maybe both. You were never there for me when it mattered, or the kids.”

“I know, you’ve said it a million times, and I’m so tired of hearing it. There’s nothing I can do about it now. How long are you going to punish me for that?” He was serving a life sentence with her for his crimes. “Is this really how you want to live? In separate rooms, blaming me for everything that’s gone wrong in your life? What’s the point of that?” He was feeling desperate while he talked to her. It never got better, only worse.

“You were a lousy husband and father, that’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” he admitted, “but I can’t rewrite history. I can only try to do better now. But you never let that happen. You’d rather beat me up for the past. I didn’t beat you, for God’s sake, or abandon anyone. I was out making a living, to give you all a good life. And you’re going to punish me forever. We don’t even talk to each other anymore.”