Unforgettable

Chapter 8
Back in the car, Jen’s thoughts remained on Doug’s father. “Family dynamics
can be tricky,” she said, “not so much black-and-white as shades of gray.
“Were there ‘shades of gray’ in your house?” he challenged.
Her thoughts flew backward. She’d been lucky to have parents who made a fuss
about a kindergarten picture, cheered at a baseball game or for a test score—
always encouraging, always praising. And sometimes making suggestions.
“Maybe we were too young…” she began.
“You were not too young,” countered Doug. “Neither was Lisa. Teenage years
could wreak havoc in a family.”
Jen paused, thinking back carefully. “I wreaked havoc, as you say, only after
they were gone. I gave Lisa and Mike a few big headaches.”
“Understandable.”
“Ancient history.” She patted his thigh. “I’m glad you were able to turn down
your dad’s offer. I suspect he’s not as bad as he seems.”
“Maybe, maybe not. That was guilt talking. He was trying to make Mom happy.
I-I can’t quite process that she snuck down to the city to see the show and never
told anyone. Not even me!”
“That’s what mothers do. For their children, anything. As for Eddie, well he
knows about her trip now.”
“It shook him up. Therefore, he offered his son, the playwright, money, which he
thinks will calm the water.”
But Jen wasn’t sure that was the only reason. “Maybe he loves his son. Maybe
he worries about you.”

---

“Ha!”
“One thing’s for sure,” said Jen. “He may be awkward and blustery, but he loves
your mom.”
“If he’d exchange the bluster for a little bit of tenderness, sometimes, and maybe
tell her out loud how he feels…she’d be better off.”
Jen shrugged. “That’s her lecture to give, and if she ever gets to a breaking point,
she will.”
“Which leads to her turning point.”
“What?”
“’All the world’s a stage…’” quoted Doug. “We all play out our dramas. My
parents are no different, living in their one-story ranch house in western
Massachusetts. Drama lives in every house on their street, in every home in the
world. Joy, despair, grief and hope…there always has to be hope…and then
decisions are made. A path is chosen or a new idea brings an aha moment and
changes a person inside.”
With those words, Jen glimpsed a window into Doug’s soul. “My God. That’s
how you write your plays! You see these things. You capture these events, these
emotions. And you can make others feel them.”
Silence was his only answer for a moment.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” he finally replied. “But I’m not only an observer. I’ve lived
through the highs and lows myself. Here’s how I look at it: everyone searches
for a peaceful, vanilla life, but in the end, they find that life is mint chocolate
chip, and rocky road. Vanilla is an unreliable goal.”
“Oh-h-h….” Jen clutched her stomach at her aha moment. “You’re right,” she
whispered. “Vanilla is the safer road. I’ve planned for it, fought for it. But then
something happens, and—and…”
“You’re hijacked. Staring at new choices on a rocky road.”
Although their conversation lingered, Jen was on familiar turf the next morning

---

and could fall into her comfortable role. The only choices she’d be making were
financial ones with her clients. She unlocked her computer and began scrolling,
but stopped at the company-wide announcement of Matthew’s promotion and
move to Kentucky. His last day at headquarters was the upcoming Friday.
Her heart sank for a moment, but she tried to rally. No vanilla here. She’d
consider it a pistachio event—for them all. Hopefully a wonderful turning point
for Matt. But what if the offer had been hers? What if she’d turned it down
because she wanted the safer road? What if that safer choice ultimately
destroyed her career?
She refocused on the screen. Ridiculous thoughts. If she kept it up, she’d soon be
competing with Doug in the drama department.
##
Workwise, Doug shouldn’t have taken time off to go with Jen to Tanglewood.
On Monday night, he was buried in scripts. Revisions to The Sanctuary  came
first. Amazing how actors, by bringing the story to life, and by reacting to the
writing, could clearly show him where adjustments were needed, where he could
fix a phrase that may have seemed good on paper, but when spoken…not so
much. He grabbed the chance to revise and make changes for the better.
He glanced at the clock. After ten. Shoot, he was late with his call. That ten
o’clock connection had become a nice habit. He reached for his cell, but it rang
before he could connect. Jen.
Smiling, he answered it. “Hi sweetie. I lost track of time.”
“I figured. You must be elbow-deep in breaking points and turning points and
drama.”
“Hey, you really listened!”
“Oh, yeah. And another turning point is coming up. Matt’s last day is Friday.
Liz’s, too. Feel like joining the gang for our private farewell party?”
As if he’d miss it. “Maguires?”
“The scene of many crimes.”

---

“I’ll be there, but not sure exactly when.”
“Crunch time?”
“Something like that.”
“You wasted the day with me yesterday. You should’ve been working.”
“Listen up, sweetheart. No time spent with you is wasted. Remember that. I’m
used to pulling all-nighters.”
Her laugh was as light as a moonbeam. “Like we were still in school. I
remember us cramming for exams, testing each other…
“Keep remembering the good stuff, Jenny. I’ve still got deadlines, projects, and a
new curriculum for the fall to finalize. It’s all good. And being here, with you
again…what can I say? It’s everything.”
“I-I…
“Shush. No pressure. I’m a patient man.” He hadn’t known just how patient until
now. He’d give her all the time she needed to find the real Jen, the girl she’d
turned her back on years ago.
“I’ll say only one thing,” Jen began slowly.
Her tone of voice put him on alert. “And what would that be?”
“I-I’m glad you came back. Our ending was…rough. But we’re adults now.
Whatever happens between us this time won’t be so emotional.”
He tried not to laugh. Where did she get her ideas? “Is that right, my Henny-
Penny? Are you saying that love is totally rational? Logical?”
“Oh, don’t put words in my mouth. I didn’t say anything at all about love. It’s
just-just… oh, forget it.”
But he wouldn’t forget her confusion, her effort to avoid sharing that deepest of
all emotions. “You do realize you’d put every songwriter out of business if love
were a purely rational thing. But still, you’re giving this man some hope. I think

---

my next play will be called, The Courtship of Jennifer Delaney.  It will be an
opus, running 568 pages and taking ten hours to present.”
“You’ll lose a bundle on that one!” she said, amusement in her voice. “Not worth
it.”
“Let me decide about that. Sweet dreams, Jenny.” He almost danced around his
apartment after disconnecting. Pushing The Sanctuary  aside, he pulled over