“Well, some things aren't really in our province …”

“What does that mean?”

“I was referring to the Carter girl. We feel that she's part of Benjamin's problem. She's had her own problems this year, a broken home, and she's not … well, she's certainly not the student Benjamin is, or was, but I think their involvement provides a great deal too much distraction. There's even talk of her dropping out. But we had already told her mother she wouldn't be graduating with her class….” Damn … Oliver had put him on restriction and told him to be home by dinnertime, and he had cut classes to hang out with some dumb girl, she was even a dropout, or almost.

“I'll take care of it. I'd appreciate it very much if we could do something about this so that it doesn't affect Benjamin's college applications.” He was due to hear from them any day … Harvard … Princeton … Yale … and now he was on academic probation.

“Perhaps if you could spend more time at home with him. We realize how difficult that is now, with Mrs. Watson gone …” The words cut him to the quick, he was doing everything he could now, to be with the kids, but again Benjamin's words rang in his ears … you don't come home till nine o'clock every night. …

“I'll do what I can. And I'll speak to him tonight.”

“Very well, and we'll keep you apprised of the situation at our end.”

“Next time, just call me at the office.”

“Of course.”

Oliver hung up, and sat for a moment with head bowed, feeling breathless. And then, not knowing what else to do, he dialed Sarah in Boston. But fortunately she was out. And it wasn't her problem anyway. She had deserted all of them. The problem was his now.

He left the office that afternoon at four o'clock, and was home before six. He was there when Benjamin walked through the door, looking pleased with himself, carrying his books, and with a single glance of steel, his father stopped him.

“Come into the den, please, Benjamin.”

“Something wrong?” It was obvious from his father's face that there was, but he never suspected what was coming. As he walked through the den door, Oliver gave him a ferocious slap. It was the first time in his life he had struck any of his children except for a single spanking when Benjamin was four, and had put a fork into an electrical outlet. He had wanted to make an impression on him then, and he did this time too. But more than that, the gesture was born of guilt and frustration. Benjamin almost reeled from the shock of it, and his face grew red as he sat down without a sound and Oliver closed the door. He knew now that his father had found out, or some of it at least. And he suspected what was coming.

“I'm sorry … I didn't mean to do that … but I feel as though I've been cheated. I got a call from your school today, from Mr. Young … what the hell have you been up to?”

“I … I'm sorry, Dad. …” He stared at the floor and then finally back up at him. “I just couldn't … I don't know.”

“Do you know you're being put on academic probation?” Benjamin nodded. “Do you realize you may never get into a decent college after this? Or you may have to forfeit a year, or at the very least do summer school? And what the hell happened to all the notices they supposedly sent me?”

“I threw them out.” He was honest with him, and he looked about ten years old again, as he looked unhappily at his father. “I figured I'd get everything in control again, and you'd never have to know.”

Oliver paced the room, and then stopped to stare at him. “And what does that girl have to do with this? I think her name is Sandra Carter.” In truth it was emblazoned in his mind, and he had suspected for a long time that Benjamin's current romance was out of hand, but he had never for a moment suspected it would go this far. “I presume you're sleeping with her. How long has that been going on?”

For a long time, Benjamin stared at the floor and didn't answer.

“Answer me, dammit. What's going on with her? Young said she was thinking of dropping out. What kind of a girl is she and why haven't I met her?”

“She's a nice girl, Dad.” Benjamin suddenly looked up at him with defiance. “I love her, and she needs me.” He chose not to answer his father's second question.

“That's nice. As a fellow dropout?”

“She's not going to drop out … yet … she's just had a hard time … her father walked out on her mom, and … never mind. It's a long story.”

“I'm touched. And your mother walked out on you, so the two of you walk into the sunset hand in hand, and flunk out of school. And then what, you pump gas for the rest of your life, while she goes to work as a cocktail waitress? That isn't what I expect of you, or what you want for yourself. You deserve more than that, and she probably does too. For chrissake, Benjamin, get hold of yourself.” His face hardened into rigid lines his son had never seen before, but the last three and a half months had extracted a price from him and it showed. “I want you to stop seeing the girl. Now! Do you hear me? And if you don't, I'll send you away to goddamn military school if I have to. I'm not going to let you throw your life away like this, just because you're upset and we've all had a hard time. Life is going to throw a lot of curves at you, Son. It's what you do with them that will make or break you.”

Benjamin looked at him quietly, as stubborn as his father, worse, as stubborn as Sarah. “I'll pull my grades up, Dad, and I'll stop cutting school. But I'm not going to stop seeing Sandra.”

“The hell you won't, if I tell you to. Do you understand me?”

Benjamin stood up, his red hair and blue eyes blazing at his father. “I won't stop seeing her. I'm telling you that honestly. And you can't make me. I'll move out.”

“Is that your final word on this subject?”

Benjamin only nodded.

“Fine. You're on full restriction till the end of school, until I see those grades look the way they did before, until the school tells me you haven't missed five minutes of class to take a pee, until you graduate, and get into the kind of college you deserve. And then we'll see about Sandra.” The two men stood glaring at each other, and neither of them wavered. “Now go to your room. And I warn you, Benjamin Watson, I'm going to be checking on you night and day, so don't screw around. I'll call the girl's mother if I have to.”

“Don't bother. She's never there.”

Oliver nodded, still desperately unhappy with his oldest son, and startled by his defiant devotion to the girl. “She sounds charming.”

“May I go now?”

“Please do …” And then, as Benjamin reached the door, in a softer voice, “And I'm sorry I hit you. I'm afraid I've reached my limits, too, and this nonsense from you isn't helping.” Benjamin nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him, as Oliver let himself slowly down into a chair, feeling his entire body tremble.

But the following week, after a great deal of thought, he realized what he had to do, or what he could do, to at least improve the situation. He went to the headmaster of the school and spoke to him, and at first they weren't sure, but finally they said that if Oliver could get him into a comparable school, they would agree to what he was suggesting. It was the only thing he could do, and it would be hard on the kids at first, but it might be just what the doctor ordered for all of them. Oliver sent them all to Sarah for their school holiday, and although Benjamin refused to go at first, Oliver forced him. He threatened him in every possible way, until the boy finally left with the others. And miraculously, during the week the kids were gone, Oliver spoke to four different schools, and found one very good one that was willing to take him. He was going to move them all to New York as soon as he could, rent an apartment, and put them in new schools. It would get Benjamin away from the girl, and whatever friends were distracting him, and it would mean Oliver could be home every night by six o'clock in the evening. It was what Daphne had suggested two months before, and he had said he would never do, or at least not for several years, but now it was an idea born of desperation.

Both schools involved agreed to the plan, and the one in Purchase even agreed to let him graduate with his class if he did well in New York for the remaining two months of school, passed all his exams, and agreed to go to summer school back in Purchase. It was perfect. Without further ado, Mel was accepted by an exclusive Upper East Side girls' school, and Collegiate agreed to take Sam. They were all excellent moves, albeit a little hasty. And in the last two days before they came home, Oliver pounded the pavements with Daphne, and came up with a very attractive apartment, a year's sublet from a banker who was moving to Paris with his wife and kids. It had four good-sized bedrooms and a pleasant view, an elevator man, a doorman, a big elaborate kitchen, and behind it a very respectable room for Agnes to live. It was going to cost him a fortune, but as far as Oliver was concerned it was worth it. In ten days, he had made all his moves. All that remained now was to break the news to the children when they got home from their vacation with their mother.

He and Daphne sat in the living room after he'd signed the lease, and she eyed him with concern. For a man who hadn't been willing to make any changes at all two months before, he was moving very quickly now. He had been ever since he'd realized that Sarah wasn't coming home.

“I think it'll do us all good.” He was defending himself to her, although he didn't have to.

“So do I. But what do you think the kids'U say?”

“What can they say? I can't keep track of Benjamin while I'm commuting. And if it's a disaster between now and June, we can always move back to Purchase and I'll put the kids back in their old schools in the fall. But maybe this is what I should have done right from the beginning.”