Read Online Found by Tatum O'neal - Free Book Online Page A

the stereotypical “perfect family” of a sitcom, but it was, finally, perfect for me.
    A CLOSE, STABLE family was something I wanted for as far back as I could remember. When my ex-husband and I were together, we built our unique version of a close family. We always brought all the kids with us when we traveled. Christmases we spent home in New York with a big tree, lots of presents, and a feast with ham, turkey, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, string beans, and stuffing—all recipes I’d learned from my mother and John’s mother. Those holidays were a new experience for me. I had a window into what having a big, happy family might be like. It was the first time I’d felt any real sense of family . . . and still I couldn’t stay.
    John and I were so young when we married—I was just twenty-two and he twenty-seven. There were ups and downs. We both brought our own issues to the marriage, and mine were more obvious, but what brought them all to the surface was the fading of his career. After having an amazing year in 1984, John lost his number-one ranking. Around the time Kevin was born in 1986, John took a six-month sabbatical. When he rejoined the tour, he had a hard time facing the young power hitters Ivan Lendl, Boris Becker, and the up-and-comers who had adopted their new style of playing. John’s ranking started to slip. He was in his late twenties, which for tennis was a reasonable age to begin declining, but what professional athlete who has been at the top his entire life is prepared to start losing? I felt that he was blaming me for the end of his streak. I understand it better now—that kind of adjustment has to be horrendous for a world champion.
    From what I see and hear of him now, my ex-husband is a different person from the one I knew. He’s nice, gentle, caring. But at the time there was so much tension between us. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to John that I’d gone through so much before our marriage. We were young; we had little kids; we traveled constantly. It was a lot of pressure and I just couldn’t hack it.
    When I left John, I knew I was dissolving the family dynamic that had meant so much to me, but I had no idea how hard it would be to live alone and to raise kids by myself. The years that followed were the hardest, and the only ways I found to face my own darkness were illegal and destructive.
    By 2010, in my forties, clean and sober, I noticed for the first time that I still longed for that big, happy family. I even questioned my decision to leave, especially after watching John get married again and reinvent the family life we might have had together. Had I made a mistake in sacrificing that? I myself was hesitant to remarry, partly because I wasn’t sure I wanted to go that route again, and partly because I didn’t want my kids to have to get to know someone else. I had always felt displaced by my parents’ companions. And hadn’t I put my children through enough already?
    My children were out of the nest, and for now, at least, I was not trying to replicate that traditional family structure. But the moments Sean and I spent with Ryan, in the place that had once been my home, were happier than I had imagined possible. Life could not have been better. A brief golden age with the perpetual golden boy.
    THEN, ONE NIGHT in July, Ryan and I went to dinner with my then-agent, at an Italian restaurant. While we were chatting, my father abruptly turned to my agent and said, “You want to represent me?”
    My agent said, “Sure.” Suddenly, he was representing my father, too. Didn’t that muddy the waters a bit? I sat there, thinking, What about good old Tatum? Sitting right here at the table. Anybody want to run this by me? Boundaries, anyone?
    As we ate, my—our—agent said, “You guys have a good rapport.” He started asking if we’d want to work together, and if so, on what? In the past, I