Fantasy, Loss, and Summer Love

Celia and I got married in a civil ceremony a few days after I talked to Keith about being his father. I called my parents and told them I was coming for a visit. Mom offered to pick me up at the airport, but I assured her it wasn't necessary; I reserved a rental car.

Celia was a nervous wreck when I parked in the driveway of my parent's house. Little Keith had no idea what to expect. All he knew was we were going where I grew up and where his mother used to live. And that he would meet more grandparents. Truthfully, he was still too excited about his first ride on an airplane to care what the adults in the car were trying to explain.

I knew my father would be at work for a little while after I arrived at my parents' house. My mother had to be watching for me. She was in the driveway before the car stopped. I got out quickly. Naturally, I was her first priority. She dashed over and gave me a hug and a kiss. A few years earlier I might have been embarrassed by getting a kiss from my mother if I brought a girl home. But it wasn't a girl I was bringing. It was a wife, though my mother didn't know that yet.

'Who's with you?' Did you bring a girlfriend?' my mother asked hopefully.

Celia got out of the car and looked over the roof at my mother. 'Hello, Dottie,' she said softly.

'Celia! What a nice surprise! How is it you're coming to visit with . . .' My mother turned to me. 'Keith, what's going on?'

'Mom, before I tell you, I think you should meet someone first.'

Celia opened the back door and little Keith scrambled out. 'I need to go to the bathroom, Mom!' he said in that loud voice children often use whether they need to or not.

My mother walked around the front of the car with me right on her heels. 'Who is this little guy?' she asked. Then turning to me, 'Keith, what's going on? Tell me right now.'

'Dottie,' Celia said, 'it's no longer Celia Heywood.'

'Mom, I married Celia a few days ago. This little guy is our son, Keith.'

'Your son?' my mother asked. 'How can that be?' She hesitated a moment while she gave it some thought. 'The night you went skinny-dipping,' my mother said.

'Not quite, but not long afterward,' I said.

'Can we go inside?' Celia asked. 'Keith needs the bathroom.'

The rest of that first night with my parents went as one might expect. After the initial shock, Mom took to Keith like any grandmother might take to a grandchild. She never complained to me but I'm sure she was annoyed that she missed his first five years. Celia later told me she got the third degree about the matter. I showed Mom the family portrait from when I was a toddler. If she ever doubted who Keith's father was, it dismissed any questions before she ever gave voice to them. I wasn't surprised my father was less surprised than my mother. He suspected more was going on between Celia and I than just a walk and a swim in the buff that hot Georgia night. Keith was excited about sleeping in my old bedroom. And my old bed. Celia and I grinned like idiots while we got situated in the guest bedroom. Excited at the prospect of reliving some of our first summer in the same bed, even if we had to restrain our enthusiasm with my parents in the next room.

Being married to Celia has sometimes been an emotional roller coaster. It hasn't always been perfect. We've had some rocky times, but what married couple doesn't? It took some convincing to get her to believe I ownedThe Dispatch. I had delayed telling her about it until we were house hunting and she expressed concern about how we'd pay for it. I never doubted marrying Celia was the best thing that ever happened to me. Our three children have given us seven grandchildren.

Without bothering to conduct a search, Bill Barrett decided Sally Parker should remain city editor atThe Dispatch. She complained bitterly when told she wasn't going back to reporting. I never believed it was anything but posturing. She took to the editor's desk like she was born to it. She even got nominated for a Pulitzer one year, though didn't win. She remained in the job for a little over six years before retiring.

When I returned toThe Dispatch from my honeymoon, Barrett, at Parker's suggestion, decided it was time for me to take on a different role. I became Parker's permanent replacement, though it ruffled the feathers of three other reporters that wanted the job. With Casey gone, there was budget room to give me a salary. To cover local sports, Barrett instituted a program that relied upon, and paid, high school students to write our coverage. I got 'stuck' with mentoring them and editing their copy. To be honest, I mostly enjoyed it.

Before Barrett retired three years later, he sought input from me before he hired the new managing editor. I was introduced to Paul Durkin at a restaurant near the airport when he came in to start work. I still wanted my ownership of the paper to remain secret from the staff. I made the same deal with Durkin I made with Barrett. Durkin remained atThe Dispatch for nine years, during which he revamped the editorial staff and modernized operations. One of his decisions was making me city desk editor when Sally retired.

Durkin eventually moved on to a big city newspaper on the west coast. When Durkin told me he was leaving at the end of his contract, I asked that he do his best to hire the right person to replace him. He interviewed more than a dozen candidates. Then set about convincing me it was time to reveal my ownership of the paper and take over its management. It took him four months to sell me on it. Reactions among the staff ranged from amusement to bemusement to absolute horror.

I think I made some good decisions while I ranThe Dispatch, but mostly, I was lucky. I hired a few key people with vision. People that foresaw the internet would change the news business. And somehow convinced me they were right and that I needed to redirect resources to developing an online presence and different revenue streams. ThoughThe Dispatch eventually ceased existence as a print news organization. Heywood Publishing thrived as a regional media company until being bought by a much larger media company. I'm not entirely happy with how my old business has changed, but I no longer worry about it. My grandfather's, and then my father's old firm still operates. My father followed my grandfather's example and began transferring ownership to me over a period of years. I own it outright now. But I let it be. I know nothing about that industry and truthfully, don't want to. I only meet periodically with the CEO to go over financials.

Celia and I live modestly and always have. I don't drive a Porsche or a Lamborghini. A three-year-old Ford SUV and a twelve-year-old Mercedes are what you'll find in my garage. The Ford is what I drive. Our house is a little nicer than most but it's hardly ostentatious. We take nice vacations, but we don't rub elbows on the French Riviera or in Monte Carlo. Though all are educated and have good jobs, our children also live modestly. Our grandchildren are in the dark about the family money and will remain so until learning about it is unavoidable. Celia and I hope they want to make their own way. The way I wanted to. I think their parents have them headed in the right direction.

I accomplished more in life than I expected, though I recognize I had advantages most people don't. That knowledge tempers my pride. My only ambitions now are spending time with my grandchildren. And, more importantly, making sure that every night, I sleep next to the woman I first fantasized about, then fell in love with. The woman that ran away from me and left a void I couldn't fill. I still have trouble believing I blundered onto her again. I still get a thrill when I remember when she decided I was what was missing from her life after all. For a long time, I didn't believe in happily ever after. But now I believe I live it.

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