The Old Man in the Club by Curtis Bunn

scholarships that’s taking care of tuition, I’m going to take care of room and board. And you can use that money we saved for your incidentals: fun, food, clothes, whatever you want.”
    â€œDon’t do us any favors,” Daniel said.
    â€œWhat’s your problem, son?” Elliott said.
    â€œDaddy, don’t listen to him,” Danielle said. “I love the idea. Thank you. Thank you both.”
    â€œIt was your father’s idea and it’s a good one,” Lucy said. “We’re so proud of you both.”
    â€œDon’t try to make him look good, Mom,” Daniel said.
    â€œDaniel—” Elliott started.
    â€œWait,” Lucy jumped in. “Daniel, I want you to stop being so angry. We’re sitting here having dinner as a family. There is no need for you to be rude to your father. Why would you do that?”
    She did Daniel as she had many times before done Elliott: She made him think.
    After a long pause, Daniel said, “I don’t know. It just feels right.”
    â€œThat’s a child’s answer,” Lucy said. “You’re a young man; a smart young man at that. Unless you can express yourself better than that, I say you let go of your hostility and enjoy this family time. You two are going to college in two weeks. I’m sad to see you go. But I’m glad to see you go. It’s your time to grow up.”
    â€œI miss you all, and you haven’t even gone yet,” Elliott said. “I know it was a busy summer, but I really wish we had seen each other more.”
    Everyone braced for Daniel to fire off an angry response. Instead, he said, “Dad, thank you for the room and board.”
    It was the first comment to Elliott that was not angry in the year-and-a-half since the divorce. “Sure, son,” Elliott said.
    â€œYou don’t plan on coming to visit us at school, do you?” Daniel asked.
    â€œActually, I do,” he answered.
    â€œWell, I’m sure I’ll be busy when you come,” Daniel snapped.
    â€œWell, you can hang out with me, Daddy,” Danielle said.
    â€œNo, he can’t; you’ll be with me,” Daniel said.
    â€œListen here, Daniel, enough is enough,” Lucy said. “Let me tell you what happened.”
    â€œNo, you’re not,” Elliott jumped in.
    â€œLook,” Daniel said. “He doesn’t want us to know what he did.”
    â€œI told you before,” Elliott said, looking around to make sure no other patrons were listening to their conversation, “this was none of your business. Lucy, we agreed that we would deal with this ourselves. The children should not be in the middle of it.”
    â€œYou act like we’re kids or something,” Daniel said. “Shoot, we know the truth anyway.”
    â€œWe’re going to continue our meal talking about pleasant stuff, if that’s okay with you, Daniel,” Elliott said. “If it’s not, then too bad.”
    Danielle snickered. “That’s funny to you?” Daniel asked.
    â€œThis is your last warning,” Lucy said. “You hear me, Daniel?”
    â€œI hear you, Mom,” he said, staring at his father.
    There was no more drama the rest of the meal, but the animosity Daniel—and to a lesser degree, Danielle—felt grew over time. Elliott went on with his life, occasionally speaking to his daughter, who did not relay to her brother that she was in touch with their dad.
    It ate at him that his relationship with his children was less than great. It was important to him. Elliott had a close relationship with his father. But the toll of his arrest and conviction wore heavily on Walter Thomas, and his health faded slowly and then rapidly while his son was incarcerated.
    By the time Elliott was released, his father was a fraction of the active, jovial man he had been. Depression led to physical breakdowns that doomed him, no matter how many letters Elliott