Alone in Pain

Kasey



"Sam, you've got a call," Cathy stuck her head in the doorway.

"I know," he answered, not looking up from the file.

"So why don't you answer it?"

"Because I'm doing this."

"It's your father."

Sam's eyes went wide. Something had to be wrong - while he talked to his mother about once a week, he rarely talked to his father. There was no bad air between them, aside from the fact that his father had rarely been around…he was a corporate lawyer, he had to travel a lot, that was all…Sam didn't resent him or anything like that. He lunged for the phone. "Dad?"

"Hey, Sammy, did I call you away from something important?"

"Nothing that can't wait." There was a weak, forced smile in his father's voice, which worried him. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"What? I'm not allowed to call my son anymore?"

"It's not that you're not allowed, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"Just that you never have."

"Yeah. Listen, I'm sorry about that."

Sam shrugged, then realized his father couldn't see him and felt sheepish. "So what's going on across the continent?"

"Your mother threw me out."

Sam's jaw dropped. "What happened to 'can't a father call his son just because'?"

"I never said I didn't have a reason."

Still a lawyer, Sam noted. "What happened to you and Mom? And don't even tell me you're giving up."

"Listen, Sammy, it's over."

"It's not over! Mom's crazy about you, she'll forgive you! Go back home with wine and roses, prepared to grovel."

"It's more complicated than that."

"It isn't, Dad. Everyone always thinks it is, but it isn't. It takes humility, but it's worth it! I mean…Leo talks about how much he wishes he could get his wife back. You're gonna regret it if you don't-"

"She wasn't the only woman, Sammy."

"So beg, plead for forgiveness, show her the others didn't mean-"

"It was 28 years."

Sam fell silent, completely speechless. "28 YEARS…?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

"You and another woman for 28 YEARS?"

"Yeah."

"How'd Mom find out?"

"I…I told her."

"And you're surprised she kicked you out? Are you stupid?" The roles of father and son had reversed. "How the hell did you keep it a secret so long?"

"It's not like I had her in the house, we had an apartment in Santa Monica. Give me SOME credit-"

"You want CREDIT? You lied to us! You cheated on mom, you -…I don't even-…All those times you said you were staying overnight in another city for business, you ewre really with HER, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Does she know about us?"

"Yeah, she actually-…she's who convinced me to tell your mother."

"Wow. A mistress with morals," Sam said dryly.

"We're getting married."

"You're WHAT?!"

"It wasn't just about sex, Sammy, I love her."

"A fine time to tell me this."

"…I want you to be in the wedding, Sammy, one of my groomsmen. Dana, too."

"I want you to go to Hell, but it probably won't happen." He hung up the phone, then quickly picked it up and dialed.

"Dana Seaborn." His sister, the ever-professional lawyer, the Anne Kelsey of the current age, answered her phone after the first ring.

"Dana, it's me."

"Dad called you?"

"Yeah."

"Did you try to kill him?"

"No, but I hung up on him."

"You always were the gentleman of the family." He could hear the faint smile in her voice. "I cursed him out, but he kept telling me more."

"He invited you to the wedding?"

"He wants me to be a bridesmaid. Kristen, of course, will be the maid of honour."

"Kristin?"

"He didn't tell you? We have a sister."

"WHAT?!"

"She's 17."

"That's like half my age."

"Yeah. Remember when we were like, 11 and 15? And Dad came home after a week in Florida, all smiley? And that weekend, we found a picture in his wallet that looked like one of my baby pictures?"

"You're kidding me."

"Nope. Wish I was, though." There was a silent. "He started the affair while Mom was pregnant with me."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah." She'd gotten awfully quiet…

"Dana, it's not your fault-"

"I…I know, I just…" Noise. "I gotta go."

"You were in the middle of something and I called you away?"

"Yeah - deposition."

"Good."

"Sam!"

"You work too hard."

"And when's the last time you had a day off?"

"Perfectly fair question."

She laughed. "Oh, and Dad told me to give you his number."

"How did he know he wouldn't-"

"He figured you'd hang up on him."

"It was a perfectly justified -"

"I know." She smiled to herself, then gave him the number. "Call him if you want, but I wasn't gonna and you're under no obligation to."

"Exactly."

"I gotta go."

"Me, too. Wait…how's Mom?"

"About as well as can be expected. About every 10th word was a curse."

"OUR mother?!"

"Yeah."

"I've never heard her swear in my life."

"Me neither - that's my point. If it was me, it would've been every second word."

Sam smiled. Dana sounded about the same as ever, which was a good sign. She'd never been especially close to their father - she respected Sam and looked up to Sam and wanted to be like Sam, not like their father. Sam wondered if maybe she'd suspected such a thing long ago. "I'll let you go."

"Thanks. I think my client plans to kill me."

"Oh, have fun."

"I shall."

"Bye, Lil Sis. I miss you."

"Miss you too, Big Brother. I'll have to come down there next time I have time off."

"Or I'll stop by next time the President's in Cincinnati.

"Got it. G'bye."

No sooner had Sam hung up than the phone rang again. Groaning, Sam answered. "Sam Seaborn."

"Honey? It's Mom." She sounded upset. Of course she was. Sam felt stupid for that train of thought.

"Hey, Mom. Are you okay?"

"Listen, Honey, your father…"

"I heard. I've been on the phone with him and with Dana. I just hung up when you called."

"You were on the phone with your father?"

"Actually, I hung up on him."

"Good boy."

It sounded foreign to him that his mother would condone such an act of rudeness. "Are you okay?"

"I'm ready to kill the son of a bitch just as soon as I kick his balls in."

Sam's jaw dropped. He'd heard his mother say a lot of things, but all of them had been relatively polite, very proper… "Mom?"

"Sorry, Honey, that was harsh…though not undeserved…"

"I never said it was."

"I just genuinely would like to open a can of whoopass-"

"What the hell?"

"Don't ask me, I don't know."

"I gathered that."

"…Is it wrong of me to be pissed?"

"Not at all, Mom."

"I just…how could I be so BLIND? It's not like he covered up a one-night stand, it…28 YEARS? Were there really no SIGNS, no WARNING?"

"…I don't know…" She had suddenly crumbled, gone from outward anger to the more hidden betrayal, hurt, and confusion. "…I wish I knew the answers…"

"He-he never expressed unhappiness, our sex life seemed the same…" Sam shuddered. No matter how old you got, the idea of your parents having sex remained only marginally less disturbing than the idea of your father having sex with another woman. "…he worked too hard and traveled too much, I thought, but that was ALL I thought, I mean…I NEVER expected to find out he was sleeping with another woman all those times he said he was traveling for - for depositions or court cases or workshops or seminars…" He could hear her crying and felt a wave of sympathy for her. She was all alone in her pain - both her children were on the other side of the country, her husband in Santa Monica with his bride-to-be and daughter. At the same time, nothing could be done to change it. Neither of the Seaborn children could get off work with such sudden notice - too much had to be done. They would just have to remain alone in their pain, trying to deal with the new information which had just rocked their world.

When it came time to go home that night, Sam found himself sitting in his office, looking out into the darkened bullpen. Every other person had left - after all, it was 2:45, which usually meant everyone was gone.

He didn't want to go home. "Home" was a sparsely furnished one-bedroom apartment about 20 minutes (walking) from the White House, and he didn't spend much time there. None of his colleagues did. The apartment felt foreign anyway. He didn't want foreign- he wanted familiar, comfortable, unchanging.

Like his office.

There was nowhere to sleep in his own office…but next door was a nice couch. Toby'd be pissed if he was still there in the morning, but Sam didn't figure he'd get much sleep.

He stood and walked into the next office, hoping to sleep a little, dream of a better time, a time of honesty, goodness, fidelity…a time of the child-like innocence which he had been stirpped of that afternoon.

Instinctively, he knew he couldn't ever get any of that back, live in that world ever again, yet he wanted all of it. What he wouldn't give to know that world again - if only for a few hours each night in his dreams.

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