risk or regret

8/7/2019 RISK OR REGRET

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RISK OR REGRET

February 2, 2001

"Get out of the way, slowpoke!" Jack shouted, slamming his fist on the horn. "Get that pile of junkoff the road!" He yanked the steering wheel hard to the left and sped past the slower car, the hornblaring as he passed. Darkness closed quickly between the two cars.

Suddenly, blue lights began to flicker in his rear-view mirror. "Oh, GREAT!" he grumbled aloud."Of all the cars on the highway tonight, I WOULD pass an unmarked police car!"

Pulling over to the curb, he parked under a street lamp and watched anxiously in the mirror whilean oversized patrolman unfolded himself from behind the wheel of his car. It seemed to takeforever as the policeman stood up beside his car, settled his hat on his closely cropped head, andthen adjusted his belt and holster.

Jack was fidgeting impatiently when the big man finally began to amble slowly forward. Jack satmotionless in his seat until a harsh circle of light shone on his lap, then on his face. A sharptapping on the window prompted him to press the button on his armrest; the glass slid quietlydown into the door.

"Good evening, sir. Do you know why I pulled you over?" "Yes sir, officer. I know I was speeding,and I was kind of reckless back there, I guess, but I've got an explanation!" "I'm sure you do, sir.May I see your license and registration?"

While Jack was searching through his wallet, the policeman continued. "You know you weregoing fifty-eight in a forty-five mile-an-hour zone, don't you?" Jack looked up from his task. "Mygosh! I didn't know I was going that fast! You see, I've driven over seven hours to get here and I

just got off the highway. My sister called me at work and told me that I needed to come home.They're not expecting our mother to make it through the night; she's got cancer and she's beengoing downhill for the last six months."

His voice trailed off. "I'm sorry I was speeding; I was just trying to get home before it was toolate." The policeman wrote on his clipboard for a moment, then tore off the top sheet and handedit and the license back to Jack. "I'm sorry your mother's not well Mr. Beckman, but you weredriving much too fast. I've considered the circumstances, thinking about what I would do if I werein the same situation, and I decided I would only give you a warning ticket this time."

"Thank you, officer! Thank you! I really appreciate that!" "That's all right. Now drive safe; it wouldreally be bad for your family to have to deal with you being in the emergency room at a time likethis." "You're right. Thanks again! I'll be more careful." "I hope so. Good night Mister Beckman."

Fifteen minutes later, Jack wheeled his car into the driveway of his boyhood home. As heentered, the old house was quiet except for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the old

familiar complaints of the floorboards under his feet. His sister Suzie was in the kitchen, making asandwich.

"Jack! You made it!" she exclaimed, standing to give him a consoling hug. "I was so worriedabout you driving so far! How was your trip?" "Fine, no problem. Has Bob gotten here yet?" "Yes,he got here about a couple of hours ago, just before midnight. He went to bed a little while ago."

She saw Jack looking at the kitchen table which was piled high with cakes and pies and bucketsof fried chicken and plates of cold cuts. "You hungry?" she asked. "Want me to fix you a plate?Some of the ladies from Mom's church brought this food by; it's been a real help! There's even a



ham in the refrigerator!" "No thanks, I want to see Mom. How is she?" "She's gone down fastsince yesterday, but she's not quite as bad as she was when I phoned you earlier." "Good, I'mglad to hear that! I'll see you in a little bit."

He turned and made his way hurriedly across the living room floor and down the hall to hismother's bedroom. He paused for a moment outside her door. "Mom?" he called, softly, gentlypushing the door open. "Mom, it's me, Jack."

He was not prepared for what he saw next. The bedroom looked the same as it had been sincethe beginning of time. Except for one thing: lying in the middle of the bed, in a circle of pale yellowlight, was the frail emaciated form that had once been his mother.

"Mamma!" he cried, rushing to her side. His heart lay frozen in his chest until, at last, she moved,turning her head to see him. "I came to see you, Mamma!" Slowly, she opened her tired, blueeyes; they brightened, and a smile bloomed across her face. "Jackie!" she said weakly, placing ahand on his cheek. "You're here!"

"Yes! I'm here, Mamma." A broad smile formed on his face in spite of the tears that werethreatening to escape from his eyes. "I'm here!" "I've been waiting for you; I knew you'd come!""Yes, Mamma; I came as fast as I could. I had to be with you!" "Thank you, Jackie," she said,

patting his cheek lightly. "How are things going with you?"

"I'm okay.... But you don't worry about me. I came here to see how you're doing!" "You know howI'm doing, Jackie; I'm dying. I want to know how YOU are doing. How's that restaurant situationworking out?" Jack let out a long sigh. "Same as before. Nancy says I can look into it if I want to,but she doesn't seem to be very enthusiastic about the prospects of me leaving the real estateagency. She says I should be satisfied with what I'm doing now."

"But, how do YOU feel about it?" "Actually, it kind of scares me. I'm pretty well situated at RealtyOne; I've been with them over sixteen years and I make pretty good money. We have all weneed...and most of what we want...."

She fixed her gaze on him. "But what?" she asked, pointedly. Her eyes were old and weary, but

they were still sharp enough to see that there was more on his mind than what he was saying.

He shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. "But... it's not enough. I'm just not happy withwhat I'm doing anymore. The money's fine, but the work doesn't satisfy me anymore. Do youknow what I mean?"

"Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes and nodding her head in agreement; she knew what hemeant. She laid her hand on his and gave it a delicate squeeze as he continued.

"When I first got into real estate, I loved it! I really enjoyed working with people and helping themfind the exact house they wanted. I used to love the look in the eyes of a young couple when Ihanded them the keys to their first new home. It used to be such a thrill!"

"What happened to that thrill?" she whispered from her pillow, eyes still closed, resting. "Nothingchanged. Everything stayed the same. I guess that was the real problem. Nothing changed; over the years, my life became a routine. I got good in the business, and I sold more and morehouses. After a while those excited expressions didn't seem to have the same effect on me thatthey used to."

He sat there a moment, his mind wandering off. What happened to the good old days? Slowly, hedrifted back to the present and he became aware that his mother was snoring softly. He held her hand a while, marveling at how warm it felt; shouldn't it have been cool?



Rising, gently from the bed, he laid her hand tenderly on her lap and settled into an easy chair that had been placed next to the bed. For the next half-hour, thoughts flowed freely through hismind while he watched his mother's chest rise and fall.

Where had all the years gone? Where had his dreams gone? What could he do to get themback?

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked, as if there had been no break in theconversation. Jack looked up from his reverie, startled.

"Well... Giovani, the owner of Fratelli's, still wants me to consider coming on as his apprentice. Isaw him a couple of weeks ago at the restaurant, and he asked me if I was still considering hisoffer."

"Are you?" she asked, weakly, almost dreamily.

"I'd really like to learn to be a chef," he said, moving back to her side at the edge of the bed. "Youknow I've always enjoyed cooking, and I could afford to invest in the restaurant. But, most of thetime I feel like it's just a silly, selfish dream.

She reached out until her hand found his, then she gripped his fingers, clutching them firmly."Jackie, there's nothing selfish about wanting to be happy. If Nancy doesn't object to it, what'skeeping you from it?"

"Lots of things, Mom. I enjoy cooking and all, but what if I'm not 'chef' material? Remember thatChateaubriand I made for the family reunion a few years ago? Doing that was a lot of fun. Andone time, Giovani even let me come back into the kitchen and he showed me how to cookScallops Bonne Femme. That was an awesome experience! He's a master chef, you know. Buthaving an interest, or even a knack, for cooking is different from being a professional chef. What if I don't have what it takes to make it?"

"You'll never know unless you try, Jack."

"But, Mom, I can't gamble our future on a whim; retirement's not all that far over the horizon, youknow. It's really a risk; I don't know anything about the restaurant business. I think that is the partthat concerns Nancy the most; I would hate to get us into something that might go sour on us."

"Listen to me son," she said in a stern but tender tone. "A poet once said 'Of all the sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!"' If you don't take a few risks now andthen, you'll live a life full of regret!"

"I know. You're right, Mom. You know, Giovani did say that he would teach me everything heknows, and he's been in the business for almost forty years! If things go well, it could actually turnout to be very beneficial for Nancy and me. When Giovani retires, he'll give me the opportunity tobuy him out. This could actually be very good for us if things were to go right. I just don't knowwhat to do; it really is a gamble! What should I do, Mamma?"

Silence. Lost in thought, it took Jack a moment to notice how quiet the room had become. Hesmiled, looking at how peaceful his mother was resting. He laid his hand gently on hers and heldit. Something squirmed and slipped sideways inside him. He looked more closely at her, grippingher hand tighter. "Mom?" he said. "Mom!" More silence.

Jack lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. He was surprised at how warm they stillwere. A tear rolled quietly from his eye. Rising, gently from the bed, he laid her hand tenderly onher lap and made his way haltingly out of the room, calling for his brother and sister as he went.



Later that morning, after the nurses and the coroner and the men from the funeral home had allgone, Jack sat alone on the front porch. The sky was turning gray in the east and the stars weredisappearing one by one and Jack sat reflecting on the last things his mother had said.

Looking eastward, he said to the brightening sky "I hear what you were saying, Mamma! I won'tlive a life of regret! I will take the risk! I'm going to do it!"

risk or regret

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