I talk to my father now, regularly. He has remarried. Florida has been good for his health, it seems. He and his new wife travel quite a bit -- can you imagine my father travelling now? They go to Las Vegas, to Salt Lake City, New Orleans. Her son owns a chain of motels. "He's a computer genius," my father says proudly. "He's a whiz kid. Just like you were, you know. Smart as a whip."

He asks me what Z. should call him. What should she call him? What should she call this man she has never known, never heard me speak of? I say, "I don't know, Daddy, what do you want her to call you?" He says, "Well, I was kind of hoping for --"