He Reached His Seventieth Birthday, Having Raised Three Children Alone. His Wife Passed Away Thirty Years Ago, and He…

Arthur reaches his seventieth birthday, having raised three children. His wife died thirty years ago, and he never remarried. He never found another partner; there were countless reasons, but none matter now. His two sons, James and Thomas, were always fighting and causing trouble. He shuffles them from one school to another until a brilliant physics teacher spots a clear talent in them. Overnight the fights, arguments and problems stop.

His daughter, Ethel, also struggles socially. The school psychologist suggests a psychiatrist, but a new literature teacher launches a writers club. Ethel starts writing from dawn until dusk, and her stories first appear in the school paper, then in every local literary society.

Soon the boys win scholarships to a prestigious university for maths and physics, while Ethel heads to a literature degree. Arthur is left alone and suddenly feels the quiet around himlike a wolfs howl in an empty field. He turns to fishing, gardening and raising pigs on the large plot beside the River Thames behind his house. He earns a decent income, especially after discovering that a factory engineer earns far less than he does. Now he can buy his children modest cars, give them pocket money and decent clothes.

Time slips away faster than ever, spent on the farm and a small trading sidebusiness, but he enjoys it. Ten more years pass and his seventieth birthday looms. He plans to celebrate in solitude. The sons are tangled up in a topsecret defence project for the Ministry of Defence, unable to take a weekend off. Ethel roams writers symposiums across the country. He decides not to bother them with an invitation.

Maybe Ill just have a whisky and remember Martha, he thinks, alone, just me

The day arrives. He rises at dawn to tend the pigsspecial feeding requiredthen steps out onto the starlit clearing in front of the house. In the middle of the clearing lies a strange, elongated object wrapped in a tarpaulin.

What on earth is that? he exclaims. Suddenly, bright spotlights flash, illuminating the clearing and a crowd that emerges from the houses doorway: his sons with their wives and grandchildren, several relatives, and Ethel accompanied by a tall man in thicklensed glasses, Mr. Howard. Everyone holds balloons, whistles, and noisy airhorns, shouting, waving and trying to hug him.

Happy birthday, Dad! they roar. He forgets the wrapped object as the crowd blocks his way back inside, where the wives rush to set the table.

Hold, Dad, hold, Ethel says, let me tie your eyes. He nods. She wraps a dense cloth over his eyes, spins him a few times, and leads him onward.

What are you doing? he asks.

A present for you, James replies.

I hope its cheap, Arthur worries.

Its just a little token, a sign of gratitude, Thomas adds.

They guide him to the object and pull away the cloth. Music blares from speakers, drums pound. The tarpaulin is ripped away, and under the bright lights sits a classic British sports cara JaguarXK120! Arthur nearly faints from the shock and almost collapses, but they catch him and seat him on a chair.

Oh my God, oh my God, he mutters.

Calm down, Dad, Ethel splashes water on his face, youve wanted this car your whole life.

But its incredibly expensive, he stammers.

It isnt more than a few thousand pounds, one son says.

Come on, sit in the cabin, we want photos, Ethel urges. He opens the door, only to find a cardboard box inside.

Whats that? he asks.

Open it, Ethel says. He lifts the lid and two bright eyes stare up at him. He pulls out a tiny, fluffy kitten and holds it close.

A real Thai cat! Just like the one we had with your mother. Remember? Bombka? You loved him as a baby

Yes, we remember, Dad, the children answer.

He never sits in the car. Instead, he goes upstairs to his bedroom, shows the kitten the photograph of Martha, and tears run down his cheeks.

Martha, can you see? I did it. Theyve not forgotten can you see? he whispers to the picture.

The children keep him from staying alone. The table below is set, toasts begin. Ethel leans in and whispers that shes four months pregnant and that she and her fiancé have come to stay. She will remain here, her new novel can be written anywhere, and her fiancé will travel to his parents in New England, with a wedding planned in their village church in a few weeks.

Will you be okay, Dad? she asks.

It feels like a magical dream, he says, kissing her forehead.

The day passes in conversation, snacks, drinks and reminiscences. In the evening he walks to Marthas grave, sits for a long time and talks to her. Life now holds a new meaning, especially the Jaguar. He thinks of buying period clothing, sitting behind the wheel and driving to the nearby big city.

On the bed a small Thai kitten naps.

Tommy, the man says, repeating, Tommy.

Tommy purrs, stretches his tiny body fully, and the man lies down, stroking the warm, fluffy belly until he falls asleep.

Morning comes early. He must feed the pigs, tend the garden, and continue fishing. Downstairs, Ethel and her fiancé still sleep. The sons leave with their families, and silence returns. Tommy follows his owner, tumbles into the pig trough, gets tangled in the boats netting, and tries to nibble at fish bait. The man laughs, talking to the mischievous kitten.

It feels like Im young again, he says, rubbing the kitkats back.

Tommy mews and bites his hand with tiny teeth.

You rascal! the man exclaims, laughing.

The tale is simple, a reminder to anyone who can still visit their parents: dont wait for tomorrow. Go now.