On his 90th birthday, Wesley Collins, who still lived independently, got an unexpected visitor. His daughter, Kerry, who had a key to her father’s sparsely furnished condo, let herself in. She had made him a cake, an old favorite of his, white with chocolate icing.

“Surprise!”

He’d been sitting in his old recliner taking his usual afternoon nap. “Who is it?” He struggled a bit, but unusually spry for his age, he quickly stood his six-foot frame up straight. He smiled when he saw Kerry. She was his youngest of three daughters. Forty-five years old, she had been a welcome surprise for Wesley and his wife, Charlotte, when he was 45.

“It’s just me,” she said.

“How’s my baby?”

“I’m okay, Daddy.”

Uh-oh, he thought. She didn’t call him Dad. He’d known since Kerry was in her mid-teens that when she called him Daddy, things were not okay. He fussed over the cake and insisted they have a piece with a cup of tea. He followed her into the kitchen, shuffling his feet behind her.

“You’ll spoil your appetite for dinner,” she said. “It’s after three o’clock.”

“You sound like your mother.” He appraised her face. “Look like her too, more every year.” It was true. She had her mother’s light hair, high cheek bones and heart shaped lips.

“I used to hate that; you know? But now, I’m kind of grateful,” Kerry said. “I mean Mom was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

“She was.” He stifled the urge to cry. He still missed his wife. They ate slowly, not saying anything beyond his praise for how delicious her cake tasted.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. He took another bite. “Never thought I’d see 90. Not sure I’m happy about it, either.”

“I am,” she said, touching his arm.

He put his hand over hers. “What is it, Honey?”

“Michael left me. I came home from work yesterday afternoon to a seven word note.” She grimaced. “He said, ‘I’m leaving. I need a break, sorry.’” Tears filled her eyes.

Wesley put the plates in the dishwasher. “Did he say why?”

“I called him. He just feels unsettled. Something about an empty nest syndrome. Can you believe that?” Their only child had recently left for college.

“Empty nest syndrome in men is not unheard of.” He paused for a moment and glanced at the watch Charlotte had given him on their 50th wedding anniversary. “I left your mother when you flew the coop,” Wesley said. “I was gone for thirteen days.” 

“You did? I didn’t know.” She pursed her lips. “Is it true?”

“I guess your mother never told you. I’m not surprised. Later, she told me she didn’t want you leaving school, chasing after me and dragging me home.”

Kerry stirred what was left in her teacup and thought about what her father just told her. “Why did you go home? Did you miss Mom?”

“Not at first. But after about a week, I did miss her.” He remembered well his initial feeling of relief, the feeling of being somehow younger; the man he was before he became a husband and a father. But after a few days, he was flooded with guilt. He had been well aware that his wife was suffering too. That she was now presiding over an empty nest. “We didn’t talk even once during that week. I started thinking maybe she was glad I left.”

“Oh! So why did you go back, then?”

He laughed. “She came and got me. I didn’t get very far. I was staying in a motel about five miles away.” He rubbed his aching knees. “I walked out of the supermarket I always used and there she was, in our neighbor’s car. We only had one car in those days. She pulled up. Her window was down. I remember she said, “Hi.”

“What happened next?” Kerry’s eyes were wide open. Were all men cowards when the going got tough? She had always seen her father as an exemplary man. She was suddenly struck by the thought that she never felt like her husband quite measured up to the standard her father had set. Perhaps she had been wrong about that?

“Well, I walked over to where I was parked and she followed me. She parked next to me and got into my car.”

“Yes?”

“We kissed for a while. Then I followed her home and never left again.”

“I see.” She had been angry with her father for a moment, but now she laughed. He had come around after all. “Daddy, are you suggesting I go get Michael?”

Wesley winked and patted his daughter’s shoulder. “Not for another nine days. If he doesn’t come home before that, and you still want him, what do you have to lose?”

Kerry frowned in concentration for a moment. “Were you and Mom happy after you got back together?”

“Yes, after that, we had the best years of our lives.” He cried then, but only a little.