Post 36: Father Knows Best

After that eventful flight, each time I spent time with my father I was unsure how to approach him about Hugh’s story. So I said nothing until a few years later at the pleasant end of a long family dinner.

            I was pouring second cups of coffee and asked in a casual tone, “Do you remember a man named Hugh Oberling? I ran into him on a plane and we got to talking about you and ‘Liz.’” I sent a playful jab my mother’s way as she responded to a moniker from decades past.

            Daddy smiled and went quiet for a minute. “Hugh. And Nancy.” And to Mama he said, “You remember them? He worked with me at People’s, and we stood up for them at their wedding. Nice kids.”

            Mama nodded, the memory coming back to her.

            A little drunk from cocktail hour, I was suddenly unsure what to say next. I wasn’t even sure if Daddy would remember Hugh or the years before he and Mama married or the loan that had changed Hugh’s life. What if I botch this by bringing up something he considers private? If Daddy had wanted me to know about all this, wouldn’t he have told me? What if I embarrass him?

Seeming to read my thoughts from across the dinner table, and sending me a knowing look, Mama carefully asked, “So, what did you and Mr. Oberling talk about?”

            I was suddenly and acutely sober. Daddy’s eyes were soft and warm, and he sat waiting for my reply. In a god-given moment of clarity, I spoke. My answer was as honest and as caring in what was left out as in what was said.

            “Oh, just about what it was like here when you all were young and nobody had any money and the fun you had. It seemed like you were good friends. He had a lot of nice things to say about both of you. And Daddy, he said you were a fine man.”

Daddy looked up. “He did? Well.”

“One of the best he’s ever known.” Not knowing if I’d taken it too far, I waited for some sign.

Daddy smiled, looked down at the napkin in his lap, and said quietly, “Well, that was a nice thing for him to say. A very nice thing.” He rose and, as he always did, began to clear the dinner dishes. As he came around the table, he stopped and gave me a quiet smile. “Somebody out there will be saying that about you some day. I already am.”

            Mama rose and started to clear my place. I waved her off and she smiled and started to walk away, and then returned and bent down to whisper, “It’s like GranMag says, you really don’t have to tell everyone everything you know.” Balancing dinner dishes in her hands, she leaned down, kissed me on the head, and disappeared through the kitchen door.