Page 221 of Story of My Life
“Then by all means, keep doin’ what you’ve been doin’. But if there’s even the slightest chance that you’re just trying to protectyourself, you gotta stop and think. You deserve a bigger life than that.”
“So does that little boy who showed up here on our doorstep,” Mom said pointedly.
They both sat there, staring at me expectantly.
“Fine. I’ll think about it,” I said, realizing that pretending to consider their advice was the only way I was getting out of this room.
“Little stashes of happiness,” Mom said.
“What?”
Dad nodded. “You’ve heard the saying ‘Don’t put your eggs in one basket.’”
“What about it?”
Mom threw up her hands. “You don’t give yourself only one source of happiness. You can’t be happy only as long as your family is healthy. Nobody stays healthy forever.”
“Remember what your great-great-grandfather Melmo did with his money?” Dad asked.
“Spent it on booze and women?” I guessed.
“When he died, he had a modest amount saved up in the bank. But he left behind a treasure map to a literal fortune he’d squirreled away in hiding places all over his hometown. If the bank failed or if someone found and stole one of his stashes, he knew he’d be fine.”
“So in order for me to be happy, you want me to start burying gold coins in the backyard?”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse, and that will be reflected in your birthday present this year,” Mom said.
“I don’twanta birthday present. But I do want this conversation to be over.”
“Look, Campbell, you fell in love with Hazel.” Dad held up a hand when I tried to argue. “It was plain as day to everyone but you. You got scared.”
I bristled. “I didn’t get scared.”
“Bullshit, son. Every man gets scared when he falls in love, but real men face their fears. You’re acting like falling in love with a good woman is the worst thing you could do.”
In my opinion, it was. And after they’d sat by Laura’s bedside those first few weeks and months after the accident, I couldn’t understand why they didn’t feel the same.
“Let’s try this. It’s about diversification,” Dad announced.
“Ooh, that’s a good one, honey.” Mom patted his knee.
“You don’t have all your money invested in one single one of those made-up stock things, do you?” Dad continued.
“No.”
“Right. You spread your investments around so if one goes belly-up, you’ve got others that are safe…unless the whole stock market implodes, which seein’ as how it’s all made up anyway?—”
“You’re losing the thread, Frank,” Mom warned.
I decided to cut to the chase. “So you’re saying I should get a couple of wives? I don’t think that’s legal in Pennsylvania.”
“Of all the thickheaded Neanderthals…” Mom muttered under her breath.
“I can hear you,” I told her.
“Good. I wanted you to.”
“You know exactly what we’re saying,” Dad insisted.
