Sigma One (14 page)

Sarah put the key into the front door lock and entered, followed quickly behind by Alice. While Pat continued his solitary, soul-searching walk, Sarah began to prepare dinner. Alice, like most other twelve year olds, and her mother, threw her jacket down on the living room floor and ran into her room to watch the latest MTV rock video featuring Guns and Roses, a very popular heavy metal rock group whose counter-culture influences, the kids loved and parents hated. Alice knew she was supposed to be doing her homework instead of watching TV, and turned the volume down until it was barely audible to avoid being caught and punished. Her mother was very strict and had warned her about watching too much "trash on TV." But, Alice was already independent and true to her mother's example, had a mind of her own, so she sat down on the end of the bed and watched anyway, in spite of the potential consequences.

"Alice?" Sarah called from the kitchen where she was busily making dinner--Yankee Pot Roast, Pat's favorite.

No reply.

"Alice?" She called a little louder this time.

"What, Mom?" Alice answered innocently, getting up from the end of the bed and running to the door to ensure she wouldn't be caught.

Sarah remained in the kitchen, but cautioned, "you're not watching TV are you?"

Quickly Alice reached for the volume knob and shut the TV off and then quibbled, "No, Mom. I'm just in my room. I was going to write in my diary."

Sarah cocked a watchful ear and listened but heard nothing. Satisfied that her daughter was telling the truth, she continued to spar the seven-bone roast. The rich and hearty smell of the sizzling beef permeated the air making even her mouth water. Sarah normally steered clear of red meat, serving it to her family on very few occasions, being afraid of the added cholesterol, but she knew Pat loved roast,'-and she thought-that the dinner would help his forget his problems. Inwardly, she was also hoping the meal, coupled with the new her would fuel his romantic fires. She believed in the old adage a way to a man's heart was through his stomach.

The aroma from the roast continued to fill the kitchen and drifted slowly through the house, finally reaching Mice's nose, prompting her to shut off the TV which she had turned back on when she sensed the coast was clear earlier. She loved meat, too, like her father and wondered what prompted her mother to go against her practice of not serving beef.

Still thinking about her mother's curious behavior, Alice left her room and went to the kitchen. Once there, she propped herself up against the door frame while she watched as her mother lifted the roast from the fry pan and placed it in the roasting pot.

"Mom, is everything okay with you and Daddy?" she asked. She had sensed her father's uneasiness over the past couple of days, but didn't want to say anything to upset her mother. What made her speak now was the fact that one of her close friends at school had confided in her at lunch that her mother and father were getting a divorce. She was also prompted by the new hairdo and the appreciated, but unexpected, dinner. Her friend was going to have to leave Washington at the beginning of Thanksgiving vacation, and Alice was going to miss her. She didn't want the same thing to happen to her parents.

Sarah looked up from the stove and turned to her daughter. She too had felt her husband had been under alot of pressure but she knew better than to ask why. If it concerned his work, because of the sensitive nature of NSF projects, Pat wouldn't have been able to answer her anyway. Now, though, because it appeared Pat's moods were affecting Alice, Sarah felt compelled to confront him and ask him what the problem was.

Putting these thoughts aside for the moment, Sarah answered her daughter. "Alice, nothing's the matter between your father and me. He's just been a little grumpy from things at the office, that's all. He's not mad at me or you."

Alice wrinkled her brow. "Are you sure, Mom?" She then explained her concern. "Lindy, my friend at school says her mom and dad are divorcing and she's going to have to move away with her mom to Arizona."

Then she added innocently as her twelve year old mind flitted from one subject to the next, "where's Arizona, anyway?"

Sarah, relieved, looked up from the pan. Her daughter's tone of voice showed she wasn't really concerned how her father had been acting lately, it simply reflected innocent adolescent curiosity. But innocent curiosity or not, she was going to confront Pat anyway about his recent behavior. She was concerned about his moods, and their effects on Mice. It was time she got an explanation.

Putting these thoughts aside for the time being, Sarah answered her daughter's question.              "Arizona is next to California in the Southwest side of the United States map."

"I know where Southwest is, Mom. You don't have to treat me like a kid," she said defensively.

"I meant to ask, how far away is it and, anyway, when Lindy moves she invited me to come see her. Can I?"

"We'll talk about it later, honey," Sarah evaded the question not wanting to give an answer without first discussing it with Pat. Maybe it would be good to send her away for a few days so the two of them could be alone.

Alice didn't pursue the subject any farther and moved toward the stove to get a better whiff of the meat which Sarah had left on the counter as she went to the refrigerator to get the vegetables to cut up and surround the roast with. Her mouth was watering.

"Alice, there aren't any onions in the refrigerator. Will you go out to the garage and get me a new bag from the bin?"

Alice put the lid back on the roast and went outside as her mother requested. Shortly she returned with the bag of fresh onions, put them down on the floor and announced, "Daddy's car is in the garage. Did you know that?"

"No. He probably came home early and you know how he likes to take his walks sometimes. Why don't you run out and see if you can find him. I've got to put this in the oven. Tell him dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes."

Alice scooted out of the kitchen and was gone. She caught up with her father who was seated on a big flat rock overlooking the little stream.

"Daddy, there you are! Mommy thought I'd find you here," Alice said as she rushed forward to give him a big hug. "What'cha doin'?"

"Just thinkin', Punkin'. How was school?"

"Fine              " she paused. "Well, not really. Lindy's mom and dad are gettin' divorced and she's gonna have to go away to Arizona. I asked Mom if I could go visit her later, but she put me off. What do you think? Think I can go?" Sarah was playing that age old trick kids play with their parents, playing one off against the other. Pat didn't bite.

"We'll have to wait and see.              Talk to your mother, Punkin'."

Alice brushed the hair from her eyes and looked up at him and with a concerned look in her eyes asked, "You still love mommy, don't you?"

The question shocked Pat out of his sullen mood and he put aside thoughts of SIGMA ONE for the time being.

"Of course I love Mommy," he said at the same time thinking maybe work was getting to him and that he should be paying more attention to his family. At that moment he felt both guilt and shame but he forced an answer just the same. "And I love you very much, too!" he said and then reached out with both arms and picked her up and gave her a big hug.

He did love Sarah, but lately their sex life had left alot to be desired. He also knew that Alice could sense the tension between them. He made up his mind that no matter what happened to the project, he'd start paying more attention to the important things in life--his family.

Relieved by his answer, Alice returned the hug and spoke. "I was just wonderin'." She didn't sound convincing. "You've been pretty grumpy lately so I thought you might be mad at me or somethin'."

Now Pat really felt bad. "I'm not mad, Punkin'. Honest. I've just been too wrapped up in my work lately. I promise to be better, okay?" he asked trying to establish a truce and buy back a little of his guilt. He then crossed his heart as a show of good faith. "I promise." He hoped he could keep that promise. He really wanted to.

Alice seemed satisfied with that. "Okay!" she said and then continued "Hey, guess what Mom's cooking for dinner. You'll never guess zillion years."

"Betcha I can."

"Can not!"

"Can too!"

"Okay, go ahead and try, but you'll never guess."

"How many guesses do I get?" Pat asked, playing along.

Alice thought momentarily and then answered, "Three. But if you don't get it in three guesses, you've got to convince Mommy I can go to Arizona to visit Lindy."

Pat was trapped. His earlier guilt caused him to agree to the bargain. He wondered how women got so damn smart at such an early age.

"Let's see. My first guess is baked chicken."

"No!" Alice grinned.

"Two more to go."

Pat reached up and scratched his head, pretending to think hard.
"Macaroni and cheese?"

Alice laughed this time and shook her head from side to side.

He watched as his daughter reveled in her near victory and then blurted out, "Pot roast! I bet we're having pot roast."

Alice's face dropped. "You cheated!"

"Did not."

"Did so!" Alice said, sticking out her lower lip.

"Okay, punkin'. I didn't exactly cheat, but I saw the roast earlier in the refrigerator." He looked at his daughter's sad face and then added, “don’t worry. I'll talk with Mommy about maybe letting' you go see your friend. Okay?"

Alice beamed.

"Let's go in now, Daddy. I'm cold." She then rubbed her tummy, "and hungry, too."

The afternoon light had dimmed and a chilly North wind was blowing when they started toward the house. Pat looked up at the sky thinking it would probably snow and as he looked up thoughts of the project started to weigh heavy on his mind again like the gray clouds which laid against the hills nearby.

It was nearing 5:30 p.m. and his stomach was beginning to growl as he got up. With all the trouble he had had to face that day, he had forgotten to eat. He turned to his daughter. "Wanna piggy back ride?" he asked still feeling a twinge of guilt.

"Sure!" She responded eagerly and moved behind him.

Pat knelt down and hoisted his daughter up on his shoulders and noted how much heavier she had gotten. He couldn't remember the last time he had given her a ride. The thought of her growing up was bothersome. It seemed like her childhood had vanished in front of him without so much as a trace. As they walked back along the path, he began to re-evaluate his preoccupation with SIGMA ONE and think, instead, of home and family. SIGMA ONE was important, but in its pursuit, he was losing his daughter.

Limping forward with the added burden, his stomach began to churn again and the thought of the wonderful dinner forced thoughts of SIGMA ONE and his daughter out of his mind as pot roast took priority over projects and progeny.

Sarah served dinner exactly at 6 o'clock and the Huxley's, all seated at their big circular oak table, looked like the perfect family and they could have passed for a model for one of Norman Rockwell's wonderful sketches. Sarah was dressed in a full length, green and black plaid skirt which hit her conservatively at the knees. Her white, long-sleeved, high-necked blouse was accentuated by a single strand of pearls, Pat had given her on their tenth anniversary. Pat had built a fire in the fireplace as soon as he and Alice had come in from their walk and it cast its warm glow on the shiny wooden floors leading from the dining room into the living room. Pat had on a replica of his old blue and gold Navy letter sweater he had purchased a few years back at Annapolis when he discovered the moths had eaten the original. Alice was still dressed in her blue and green plaid parochial school skirt and had a blouse on similar to her mother's.

Pat couldn't help but to notice as his daughter got up from the table and moved into the kitchen after dinner to help with the dishes, how much Alice looked like Sarah, and how much she was filling out on top. Pat began again to think of what his daughter's life would be like when she finally grew up and moved away to go to school.

He felt a warm satisfaction as he got up from the table and entered the kitchen to help. All the negative feelings he had been harboring all day long melted away momentarily as a result of the good meal and he felt at peace for the first time in nearly two weeks.

As he neared the sink where Sarah was standing, back turned, doing dishes, he reached around and hugged her about the waist and with a devilish grin in his eyes began to tickle her ribs, knowing full well she couldn't defend herself with her hands full of dish soap.

"Good dinner, dear!" he said tickling her again.

"You stop that!" she demanded playfully squirming to make him stop and giggling at the same time.

"Alice," Sarah called to her daughter, "get your Daddy like he's getting me!"

Alice laughed and quickly went for her father's ribs, digging her fingers into his sides.