Are Our Decisions Made by Free Will or Decided by Fate?

An Excerpt from Art Di Nick’s Book

“As Fate Would Have It”

Rolling hills and green woodlands abound the northern part of New Jersey in contrast with the flat countryside of south Jersey was where Art grew up. The northeastern sector of the state, which borders on New York, was highly industrialized, but the rest of the state was rural with its countryside dotted with small towns. New Jersey is known as the Garden State, but the residents of the region of North Jersey where Art and Joy lived affectionately called it the Garden Apartment State. All Garden Apartments had a similar layout as if they had the same master architect as a father.

There was impeccable synchrony amongst them as if they had been built with extreme precision, even calculating the distance between them. All had a porch or patio which faced onto a central courtyard. One or two-story apartment buildings were set uniformly around the perimeter of a neatly manicured courtyard. One apartment was indistinguishable from the next, and if you weren't paying strict attention to what you were doing and where you were walking, you would occasionally find yourself trying to enter your neighbor's apartment. Garden apartments were everywhere, and it seemed that everyone, including Art and Joy, lived in one. It was a clear, crisp day in early April 1966. The snows of winter had all but disappeared, and lush green foliage was slowly returning to the trees. Art had been working for Exxon for almost a year. The nature of his work was something that demanded responsibility, and Art was determined to give his all.

While he was at work, Joy spent her days socializing with the neighbors and watching after little Pat. Joy was a social butterfly, and she loved to spend her free time socializing around the courtyard so that she could spend her free time unproductively. Pat, now seventeen months old, with a full head of curly strawberry blonde hair, was walking under his own power, climbing on everything, and babbling partial sentences which only his mother and father could decipher.

It is these moments that make you want to stop time and not let it slip by like grains of sand from your fist. The pace at which children grow up can be very overwhelming, and seeing them get all independent can be the most beautiful feeling in the world. It was 5:30 P.M. when Art parked his bright yellow Mustang in the parking lot behind their apartment complex. The problems of work were now tucked away for the evening, and Art eagerly awaited spending a pleasurable evening with Joy and little Pat. Walking up the path through the courtyard surrounded by the two-story red brick apartments, Art wondered what Joy would be preparing for dinner. Opening the front door of the one-bedroom apartment, Art braced himself as he prepared to be attacked customarily by little Pat, but to his surprise, there was no attack.

"Hi, I'm home!" reverberated Art’s voice in an inquisitive tone.

“Where is everyone?”

Lady, their little brown and white collie dog, scampered out of the kitchen and stood by Art wagging her bushy tail.

"Joy," Art called again with a tinge of concern in his voice, but there was no response.

"That's strange," he pondered. "Where could they possibly be?"

"Joy and Pat should be home at this time of day," he said with his forehead showing signs of apprehension now.

He contemplated for a moment and then concluded that they must have gone to the store to pick something up for dinner. He casually walked into the kitchen. In the middle of the barren wooden table was a single sheet of white notepaper. Curiously he picked it up and read the message scrawled across the paper.

"So long, sucker." The note wasn't signed. His mouth dropped, and his heart momentarily slammed to a stop.

What did it mean, "So long sucker." It had to be a joke, a bad joke.

In a panic, Art ran into the bedroom and threw open the closet door. All of Joy's clothes were gone, not even a crumpled dirty pair of shorts remained. Now his heart was pounding like the drop forges from the steel plant. Pat's diapers were gone. Art ran to Pat's crib. His tattered and well-chewed little blue security blanket and his companion, the little doll called "Bebe," were gone.

The sight which Art beheld was something that he had not even thought of in his wildest imagination. How could Joy just make this one-sided decision and leave the house unattended and that too suddenly? Who gave her the right to walk out on him, and that too, along with their child? Art was in a state of complete shock, and his vision was getting blurry. It was now sinking in. Joy had gone, but why and where? What had he done to deserve this? His head was spinning in all directions, and he couldn't figure out what had just happened. It was just too much to digest at once.

Lately, Joy had been extremely moody and bitchy. They had argued on numerous occasions, but Art loved her and believed she loved him. Their life together wasn't that bad, at least not bad enough to end a marriage. She had never given him even the slightest indication that she was thinking of leaving. What was Art going to do? His world had fallen upside down. He felt as if someone had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. He was hurting badly.

Yes, it was not a perfect marriage. Art wasn't the best and most perfect husband either, but who is? Every marriage is exposed to insecurities and certain ups and downs that may cause the relationship to falter. These ripples are meant to be taken as challenges, and there's nothing that cannot be resolved with negotiation and dialogue. If Joy, for once, would have brought up the matter with Art, things wouldn't have deteriorated to this extent.

The fact that Joy had taken such a huge step out of the blue made Art furious, and if he could just see and meet her once, he would make her realize what a grave step she had taken. It was just not him and her in the relationship, but they had a life attached to them as well. Did she not think of Pat even once? How heartless was she as a mother to expose their little kid to the darkness of a broken family. Is the future she wanted for her child?

A thousand questions now rushed through Art's mind. Where did she go, and why did she take little Pat with her? What was he going to do? Momentarily, the hurt turned to anger. "She can't take my kid away from me. If she really wants to leave, that's okay, but she can't have my son." A state of panic overcame him. He was shaking. His hands were cold and clammy. "Okay, calm down. You've got to calm down; you've got to get a hold of yourself. She's gone. You have to find out where." Art racked his brain to figure out where Joy could possibly have gone.

Not able to come up with anything, he decided to call her mother in hopes she might know something.

"Hi, it's Art. Is Joy there?" he asked in a flat tone, in an attempt to hide his apparent anxiety.

"Joy? What do you mean? Why would she be here? What's the matter Art, is there something wrong? Isn't she there with you?" her mother bombarded Art with all sorts of questions.

"No, she's gone, and she took Pat with her, and I don't know where. Did she say anything to you? Please tell me if you know something," heaved Art with a sense of urgency and irritation in his voice.

"No, honestly, she never said anything to me," her mother replied, trying to pacify Art.    said Joy’s mom in one breath, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"No, I don't think so. Nothing happened that would upset her so much. I thought everything was all right. She won't be back; I know she won't come back. She took all her things. If she had any intention at all of coming back, she wouldn't have taken everything." Art exclaimed in an exasperating voice. He couldn’t keep his calm anymore. The crucial step that his wife had taken was so fool-proof that he had no hopes of her returning.

"I'm so sorry for you! I really am! I know how difficult and demanding she can be at times. She's my daughter, and I love her, but I'll be the first one to admit that she has a nasty temper and can be a real bitch at times. She doesn't confide in me, and I doubt that she will call me, but if I hear anything from her, I'll give you a call and let you know what I find out," said Joy's mother in a rather anxious voice. She realized the gravity of the situation and could sympathize with Art. She knew her daughter really well, that once she would have her bitchy mode on, no force on earth could make her go back on her decision.

Now it was time for Art to check with Joy's friends. There was no place that Art wanted to leave to check for Joy. His fury had filled him with an extraordinary level of energy, and he was adamant about finding Joy. One of them might know something.

Diane and her husband, Bob, lived three apartments away. Art and Joy had socialized with them on several occasions, and Joy spent a lot of time with Diane during the day while Art was working. Art knocked on their apartment door. He asked if she had seen Joy anytime today. "No, I haven't. Why do you ask?" she asked inquisitively

"Joy left this afternoon and took little Pat with her. Do you know where she could have gone?" inquired Art, trying to take out information that Diane might have.

"No, I have no idea." "Did she ever tell you that she was thinking of leaving?"

"No, she never mentioned it," said Art in a sulky voice. He was starting to lose hope. He realized that getting mad was not really the solution.

"I knew you were having some problems, but everybody has problems. She never mentioned anything to me about leaving you," said Diane in an empathetic tone.

"Well, she may not have mentioned it to you, but she left, and I have no idea where she went,” sighed Art.

"I'm sorry, Art, but I don't know anything. I really don't. If she contacts me, though, I'll let you know. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know. Why don't you ask some of the other neighbors, someone has to know something?"

"Thanks, Diane. I'll check with some of them." Art was expecting Diane to know something as she was the one Joy spent most of her time with. If she didn't know of her whereabouts, then it was highly unlikely that anyone else would know.

In desperation, Art began to check with all the neighbors that he thought might possibly know something, but to no avail. Stanley lived two apartments away, and of all the neighbors, he was by far the strangest and most unconventional. He was a 23-year-old free spirit who never worked but always had plenty of money.

Good looking girls and strange-looking guys were always cavorting around his apartment. His apartment had a reputation for being a haven of sexual freedom. His front drapes were usually open, and his friends were very uninhibited. In the courtyard in front of the apartments, you could witness sexual gymnastics of partly clad or nude females and males cavorting about in his apartment. When you knocked on his apartment door at any time of day or night, you were usually greeted by a charming and scantily clad female. Although Stanley was a self-professed bisexual, he was a pleasant, likable guy. He was always sociable and a good neighbor. He was always inviting Art to one of his impromptu parties.

Their daily interchange, however, was usually limited to exchanging the pleasantries for the day, and on certain occasions, a shallow conversation about the Yankees or Art's racing activities. With no other option left and rule out any discrepancies, Art decided to approach Stanley and ask him if he knew anything at all about Joy's disappearance. Still, he really didn't expect Stanley to know anything.

Art was shocked when Stanley informed him that Joy had left for California early in the day with Kim, one of the girls that had been camping in Stanley's apartment. He informed Art that Joy had often spent the afternoons over at his residence and that she and Kim had become good friends. She and Kim had been planning the trip for several days. He also said that he had advised Joy not to go with Kim, but she was too excited to stay, especially with the prospect of the carefree lifestyle in California promised her by Kim.

"Where are they going to stay? How is she going to take care of the baby?" Art queried, unable to take in what he had just heard. It was like a bomb dropped on him. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice became shaky. Maybe they were tears of relief, you never know.

"I don't know," Stanley replied, "but I'm sure Kim will call me when they get there. When I hear from them, I'll let you know where they are,” he said reassuringly.

Art was both upset and relieved by this revelation. He felt like a great stone had been lifted from him. He now knew where she was going, but he didn't know how he was going to get her or his son back. His senses felt numb, and he couldn't figure out what the next step should be.

Should he go after them, looking for them, or should he just wait for Joy to get in touch. His fatherly instinct was getting the best of him, and he felt helpless in the face of fate. While Joy was spending her days basking in the California sun and nights fighting off the overzealous advances of the sexually liberated California party time boys and enjoying every minute of it, Art was spending his time fighting off depression and loneliness. Racing became his primary interest in life and his only escape from all problems in his life. Art was racing two to three nights a week - an almost impossible schedule for someone holding down a full-time job. To accomplish this feat, he had to race at some pretty strange and rundown tracks located in remote areas all over the northeast.

Meanwhile, in another world – Joy’s side!

Joy moved into an apartment with three of Kim's friends in Los Angeles. She managed to get a job as a waitress in a go-go bar and was learning to live the carefree lifestyle of a bimbo with no responsibilities in life. One of her roommates kept a partially closed, sleepy eye on little Pat while Joy was working, or more often, cavorting around. Now, for the first time in her life, she was free to do whatever she wanted when she wanted. No parents or husband was there to place demands on her time.

Her only burden was little Pat, but, for the time being, her girl friends served as full-time nannies. She had always wanted to live a life of freedom and not be bound by any cultural or family restrictions. Now when she was finally living her dream, everything seemed to materialize in front of her, and she was a free bird ready to take the world by storm.

Art tried to get custody of little Pat, but it went in vain as Joy refused to give him up. After several months, however, her newfound freedom was brought to an abrupt end by a court order obtained by Art's attorney. Forced to return with little Pat to New Jersey, she reluctantly settled into her mother's house to take advantage of having another full-time nanny for Pat. She slept days and spent evenings hanging out at the Melody Bar in Atlantic City. This arrangement was short-lived for obvious reasons. Joy's mother didn't relish the idea of being saddled with the full-time responsibility of caring for a baby. She was at a stage when she herself was in quest of some support. Living at home was also cramping Joy's pursuit of pleasure and happiness. Her mother started giving her a scolding about dancing and partying all night and dragging her ass home in the wee hours of the morning like a stray cat in heat.

 Her culpable negligence and evasion of duty was now unbearable for her mother, and she refused to put up with her carefree attitude. Her actions were nowhere close to being a mother, and if she didn't turn over a new leaf, it wouldn't be long enough before everyone gave up on her because of her attitude.

Joy soon saw the light and decided her life would be much easier if she gave Art the custody of little Pat. Now free of all burdens and responsibilities, she moved out of her mother's house and into an efficiency apartment in the Ventnor Motel. It was a long hard struggle, but now Art finally had custody of his little boy. However, now that he had Pat, what was he going to do with him? How was Art going to raise him? He couldn't afford a maid, and he couldn't even find a baby sitter to take care of Pat during the day while he worked. Art's job required him to travel frequently to refineries all over the world. What could he do with Pat when he was away on a business trip? Art found himself in a position which was a tough nut to crack. As much as he loved his son, he was in a fix when it came to juggling being a businessman and a father.

Art now came to the sad realization that he couldn't raise Pat by himself, so he turned to his mom and dad for help. The only problem was that mom and dad lived in Atlantic City, and Art lived 115 miles away from them in North Jersey. They readily agreed to raise Pat, and every possible weekend Art made the tiring trip to Atlantic City to visit him.

Sometimes, life puts us in a situation where we are forced to make some decisions for it to keep going smoothly. Art wanted to give his son the comfort of a real home where he would be looked after by his blood relations, so he had to take this decision of moving Pat out with a heavy heart. No love can be compared to that of a loved one. Even though Art had to take this cumbersome journey every week, it was worth it.

Tony, a Fork in the Road

Art was 25 years old. His wife had deserted him, and for all practical purposes, his little boy was gone. Arts parents were raising little Pat, and Art could only make the 150 mile drive to Atlantic City to see him on the weekends. He was in the middle of a custody battle. He was hurt, depressed, lonely, and feeling sorry for himself. Loneliness was like a vice on his heart, squeezing with just enough pressure that it persisted like a constant prick in the heart.

Every day the pain would increase just a little bit more, and he would be struggling for fresh air. Even his old buddies, most of whom were now happily married, couldn't seem to cheer him up. When you're down, you're really down, and nothing seems to go right. The one or two dates he managed to get were with real losers. He was beginning to feel that that's all there was out there.

All the women of his choice were either married or engaged. No one that he was attracted to seemed to want to go out with him. Art thought he was doomed to be a lonely bachelor for the rest of his life. Loneliness is something that chips away at your liveliness and swallows you in one hole, depriving you of every ounce of hope that you once exercised. It feeds off your happiness, leaving an empty void inside you, full of despondency and certain memories that you cannot keep inside you anymore. It's like keeping your heart tightly clenched into claws, squeezing the very energy out of you, sucking the very energy out of you, and constricting blood flow. You crave a warm embrace and a supporting shoulder to cry on.

One Saturday night after little Pat was asleep, Art and his old buddy Voodoo were sitting at the bar in Gables Night Club on the Gold Coast in Margate, New Jersey. If you were young and single, it was the place to be on a Saturday night in the summer. The place was packed, and everyone except Art was having a great time. Young, good looking women were everywhere, but what good was that. In Art's mind, they were all probably going with someone or, if by chance, some of them weren't, they wouldn't be interested in him anyway.

He was a loser; He was worthless, and nobody would ever be interested in someone as worthless as him. He was a boiling pot of sadness and hopelessness. Every other emotion seemed to be pushed out of his body. Every inch of him that was formerly filled with the light, the love and the laughter of his wonderful life, was now aching in hollowness. A good looking woman pushed her way through the crowd and paused next to Voodoo. She seemed familiar. Art knew her but couldn't quite remember from where or when.

"Hi, Voodoo. How are you doing?"

Turning to Art, she asked, “How have you been? It's been a long time." She said with an easy-going, friendly tone. No girl had talked to Art like that in a long time.

Suddenly the cobwebs which clouded his memory were swept away. How could he have ever forgotten her?

"Hi, Tony. It has been a long time," he reciprocated with equal enthusiasm and fervor in his voice.

Art first met Tony when he was 19 years old. She was a pretty girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and now she was a beautiful woman. They had dated a couple of times, but for some reason or other, never got serious.

"I'm okay, I guess, but things haven't really been going well for me. Joy left me and took my little boy with her."

I know she replied, "I ran into Ray a couple of weeks ago, and he told me about it. I'm so sorry for you," She said nonchalantly.

"What about you, Tony? How have you been?" "Oh, I'm fine," she said. "I'm working in a hospital."

"You and Tom ever get married?” Art queried hesitatingly, fearing the answer.

"No, we were engaged for the longest time, but it just didn't work out," she admitted in a 'matter-of-fact' kind of way.

"Are you going with anybody now?" asked Art in an undertone to not sound very nosy.

"No, not seriously," she said. “Once in a while, I go out with a fellow from the hospital.” She seemed to be quite chill about it, and it didn't seem to bother her much. Maybe she had gotten enough time to get past this stage in her life, and she had moved on.

Sometimes, it's only about taking that one leap of faith that will liberate you from ruminating on your past and finally find your true self in the process. She sat down next to Art, and they talked about old friends, old times and new. Time passed quickly. Art soon forgot how bad things were and how miserable he was. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. Something about her presence was calming and soothing for Art's soul. The good vibes helped calm the inner storm inside him. Even though they were just making casual conversation, there was something about the time spent that made him feel at home. A person who had been lonely for so long had finally felt the warmth in someone's company. It was like his old self had been ignited, and he wished he could feel that way more often.

 At 2 A.M., he drove her home. She was still living at her parents' home a couple of miles away. They parked outside just as they had done years ago and talked for hours. Time seemed to be fleeting by, and he didn't want the moment to stop existing. Everything was so pleasant and straightforward for a change. Just as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, they kissed good night and made a date for Sunday afternoon. Art went home to his mom's house; he was a much happier man now.

Tony and Art dated regularly every weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons were shared with little Pat. They swam and frolicked in the rough waters of the ocean and built sandcastles on the beach. They took long walks in the woods, enjoyed quiet picnics by smooth mirror lakes and babbling brooks, or shared breathtaking adventures on the wild rides of the amusement piers on the boardwalk. Saturday evenings, however, were reserved for just the two of them, quiet candlelit dinners, slow dancing to romantic music in one of the little out of the way clubs, romantic walks on the deserted beaches, or rock and roll to the loud heart-pounding music of one of the Gold Coast clubs.

The two were young and falling in love. Art was in love all over again; Tony would never leave his mind. She was always there mentally, if not in person. The feeling was inexplicable and incomprehensible. She seemed to be the only constant in her life and the ray of sunshine that had given him hope to start fresh. In a world full of chaos, she was something he desperately needed in his life. He believed that life had given him a second chance in the form of Tony.

She was a ray of sunshine in his dark, troubled world. The weekends were great, but the weekdays were the pits. Art dreaded the arrival of Sunday nights and the long drive to North Jersey, where Art lived and worked. It was just too far away. A long-distance romance over the phone was difficult and painful, but she had her job, and he had his, and neither one could readily move. Art was legally separated from Joy and well on his way to getting a divorce. All the necessary legal papers were filed. He already had custody of his son and only had to wait for the formality of a court hearing for the Judge to grant a legal divorce.

Art was seeing Tony every weekend and was falling in love deeper with her. What more could he ask for? Too many long and lonely weeknights, too much time to think. His conscience started to play a number on him. All of the years of his Catholic education went to work on him. What good was a legal divorce? In the eyes of the Catholic Church, he would still be married.

From the very early days of his Catholic education in a Catholic grammar school, it was drummed into him that you could only get married once and only once. He couldn't escape. Over and over again in his mind, he reflected on his wedding and the struggle he went through to make his wedding vows.

"Do you, Arthur, take this woman, Joy, to be your wife for better, for worse until death do you part?"

“Well, no, not for worse. I don't know. Maybe, I'm not sure," he thought.

Art didn't know how to answer. He knew he was supposed to answer with a loud, clear 'yes,' but he couldn't. He started to think of all the ramifications. What's she going to be like in five or ten years? She's impulsive and has a nasty temper. It seems like she always has to have things her way; we never seem to agree on anything.

'She could be a really difficult person to live with, and I'll be stuck with her until I die. How can I be expected to live with someone for the rest of his life that I don't get along with? I don't know, I just don't know, we're friends, and I love her, I think. I'm so confused. I'm just not ready to get married. What am I going to be like in five or ten years? How do I know I'll want to stay married to her for the rest of my life? That's a very long time. We may drift apart and have nothing in common. We may get completely bored with each other. Maybe I'm just scared now; perhaps it's too big a commitment to make now. Maybe everybody feels this same way when they get married.'

All these thoughts storming in made Art's mind take spins. Art never talked about this with anyone and did not know if it was normal to feel this way. How could he agree to stay married to her for the rest of his life? Too many things could go wrong. Why do we only get one chance for this thing? We could be making a big mistake when choosing someone, he thought. "Shit! The priest is looking at me and waiting for an answer. Joy is waiting for an answer. Everybody in the church is waiting for an answer." His silence was beginning to be obvious. What am I going to do? He wanted to say, 'no, I'm not ready! I'm not sure. I need more time to think about this.' But he couldn't. It would be too embarrassing. He came this far; he had to go through with it. He had to say yes and hope for the best.

Well, the best didn't come about; the worst did. His worst fears were realized, and now, he could never get married again. He believed he was doomed to lead the lonely life of a single person or else stay married to someone he didn't get along with, and all because he was born a Catholic and made a vow to stay married for the rest of his life. He pondered, "Why does the Catholic Church want me to live with someone I don't get along with? Why do I have to live with her or else live by myself for the rest of his life? It doesn't make any sense to me. Why wasn't I born a Presbyterian or Methodist? If I was, then I could get married again. They get a second chance, but I don't. It's not fair. It's just not fair." He struggled with these thoughts in his mind, but he couldn't make peace with himself even though he believed that the church was just plain wrong. Too many years of blind, unquestioning obedience to the rules of the church had to be overcome. He couldn't really convince his conscience that the church was following archaic rules it developed centuries ago to hold a family together in times when women and children would have been destitute and helpless if their husbands left them.

That was the situation 2000 years ago, but that was not the situation today in the 20th Century. Women are no longer helpless. The husband no longer has to hunt for food for the family. Women today can survive quite well without husbands, and with alimony and child support, they can even survive much better than their ex-husbands. Art, however, was fighting a losing battle with myself.

So, if he didn't want to live by myself for the rest of his life, he had to patch things up with Joy. No matter how difficult it would be, he had to patch them up. He had no other choice. Sometimes in life, you have two paths – the right and the left. It might be a struggle between your heart and mind, and the outcomes can be drastically different. Just like in Art's case, he could either choose to mend ways with Joy and stay true to his vows that he made to her as a Catholic. The other path would require him to go with his heart and not live with the woman with whom he wasn't happy. He would give himself another chance and live his life to the fullest. However, choices cannot be undone.

Like they say, time heals everything. Even though things had deteriorated between Art and Joy to the extent that there was no going back, Art was left with no choice but to accept whatever fate had decided for him.

Irreparable damage had been done, but if they were to raise Pat as a healthy child, they had to meet midway and unanimously decide upon how they would take things ahead from now. Parents have a big responsibility to shoulder when it comes to their kids, and they have to act as mature adults if they do not want the mental health of their child to suffer.

Enough time had now passed. The bitterness and anger he had felt over Joy's leaving without warning had gradually subsided. She had given him custody of Pat, and he no longer felt any animosity towards her. Pat was living with his parents in Atlantic City, and Art only got to see him on weekends. Art missed not being able to see him during the week, but without having a wife, he had no way of taking care of him. Even though his parents gave little Pat all their love and care, Joy was the only one that would enable little Pat to grow up in a normal family environment. Art did not want Pat to have a disturbing childhood and internalize these feelings to become someone rebellious and stubborn in the future. Hence, for the sake of his child, he was ready to make things work between him and Joy. Life doesn't always give chances, but when it does, you need to have the maturity to avail it and make the best of it.

Mentally confused and lonely, Art began to think more fondly of Joy and started to wonder how much he really contributed to the failure of their marriage. He was no longer sure. Time had changed a lot between them. Just like your anger subsides and you start thinking clearly, the same had transpired between Art and Joy.

Realization is something that can completely change the way you think as you start seeing things in a totally different light. He began to think of times gone by, and the little girl that used to follow him around when he was a teenager. He began to remember the good times' Joy and he had together in those carefree days of long ago. Going down memory lane had been quite overwhelming. The rush of bitter-sweet memories enveloped him in a blanket of reminiscing, instantly making him realize what he had lost. He wondered how it would have been, had their marriage not fallen apart, and they would still be sharing a life together. Nostalgia hit him hard, but all he could do was bask in the memories.

Art phoned Joy one day and asked her if she would like him to bring Pat over to her apartment for a visit. Art had given in to his heart and mind who kept urging him to bring back those sweet, dreamy days when love was what held them together, not Pat. But their son was his only excuse left to spend quality time together as they both let go of those bitter-sweet times.

 She said: “Yes, sure! Why not? You’re most welcome. I would love to have both of you over.”

“Okay! Then I’ll be there by 12 noon,” said Art ecstatically.

“Sure, what would you like to have for lunch? Your favorite cheese Bolognese and apple pie?” she asked casually.

That moment hit like anything. Art spiraled into thinking about all those times Joy cooked for him and some of the good times they had shared. He wished he could go back in time somehow and restart his life with Joy.

While they were visiting, they started to discuss their problems and what went wrong with their marriage. They reminisced about the past. In time, his visits became more frequent, and they even went out on a few dates. They seemed to be getting along much better. They stopped arguing and actually managed to have good times during their dates. After several months, Art and Joy agreed that for the sake of little Pat, they should try again to live together as a family.

They had been seeing each other for quite some time now and were more accepting of the changes that had come with time. Maybe, the time that they had gotten apart from each other had helped them understand where they were going wrong. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Spending time with each other had rekindled the spark within them, and they were ready to give each other another chance. For old time's sake and for the feelings that they once harbored for each other! Young first love and a lovable little child is an inexplicable feeling that makes a man do things a rational person would not do, but the hope that in the end, it may be all. The last vestiges of crimson and gold leaves had all but disappeared from the trees, and there was a chill in the air. With sadness in his heart and tears in his eyes, Art told Tony of his decision to patch up his marriage with Joy. She was hurting as much as him. She pleaded with him and even offered to give up her job and move to North Jersey, but Art couldn't be swayed.

He loved her, but too many years of Catholic education with blind obedience to the church had to be overcome. His conscience dictated that he had to try with Joy again. Did he really have the ability to change his decision, or was it decided for him by fate? He was adamant about keeping the past behind him and embarking on a new journey for the sake of their son, Pat. Sometimes, in life, you've got to make a conscious effort to turn things in your favor.

Mike

Three years later, Deep in thought at work, Art's concentration was broken by the loud ringing of the phone in his office. He picked it up on the third ring.

"Dinick speaking." He spoke into the phone, sitting upright

"Art, Art, come home right away. It's time! Hurry! The contractions are coming every three minutes. You've got to get me to the hospital soon." Catching her breath, almost on the verge of a breakdown. Her squeals and moans made it evident how much pain she was in.

"No, Joy, it can't be. The baby isn't due for another six weeks," he replied, unable to understand what was happening. He couldn't register the conversation as it seemed really bizarre. He was inexperienced, obviously.

"I don't care when the baby is due; it's coming now. Hang up and come home immediately." She said frustratingly. She didn’t understand why Art was wasting time on the phone and not listening to her.

"It's going to take me at least 45 minutes to drive home. Maybe you had better get a cab.” He said, freaking out.

"I'm not getting a cab. Just hurry home as fast as you can." She screamed into the phone and shut it in anger.

Art hung up and rushed out to the parking lot. He jumped into his trusty 1966 Ford Mustang, thrust the key into the ignition, and began cranking the engine

The car ignited as he reversed from the parking space, and with a sharp turn, the car screeched out from the unground parking lot. The traffic was at its peak, and the rain was copiously pelting on the windshield, but that didn't slow him down as he pressed on the gas pedal firmly. The 45-minute ride became a 30-minute one as he came to a sharp stop.

He hastily opened the front door and noticed his very pregnant wife squirming on the staircase, trying to come down with a plain duffel back in her hand. He acted without giving it a second thought, and within a flash, helped her get to the car. He asked Pat to close up everything behind him. Despite the rainstorm, Art dodged and skid through the traffic carefully.

About 15 minutes of wild driving, he pulled in front of the hospital. The past few hours seemed like a race against time, but Art was relieved that he had made it in time, and now his wife was safely at the hospital. His mind was flooded with so many thoughts that he felt it would explode anytime. But he needed to keep his calm. If not for himself, then for his wife, who needed him badly at this time and only his emotional support and reassurance would help her get past this.

He had to be there for her, as promised, through thick and thin. Soon they would be blessed with a new life, and nothing could compare that feeling. He was positive that life would change for the better. He and Joy would together make this the biggest blessing of their life.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of the roller coaster ride that he had with Joy in the past few years and how destiny had ultimately reunited them. This was God's way of rewarding him for his undying spirit and support. Love and family had indeed prevented them from drifting apart, and now he was going to become a father again. His heart warmed up with warmth and compassion for the little bundle of joy who would very soon be in his arms.

He would love him with all his heart and soul and do anything to give the best possible life. After all, he was a sign of their love. If he followed his heart and started a new life with Tony and didn’t get back with Joy Mike would never have come into his life. So maybe some things happen for a reason.

Epilogue

Seven years later Joy and I got a divorce. Our problems became insurmountable. My hectic overseas travel for Exxon contributed to our marriage problems. I spent every weekend and summers with my boys. I continued to work for Exxon, got 20 patents, won their most valuable Patent award twice for making them billions of dollars, and got the Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award for engineering accomplishments. I eventually remarried and have been happily married for 36 years. So again you can say everything happens for a reason..

 ‘As Fate Would Have It’ book excerpt and book cover photo provided by Art Di Nick.