Squeezing Out an Apology

    “What was that!” my mother said.
    She occupied the back seat. I was the driver. My father sat beside me.
    We had been rear ended. The accident happened at a stop sign. No injuries.
    I stepped outside. The other driver, a middle aged woman, stayed put. Her vehicle was a school van. Aside from herself, the van was unoccupied.
    She rolled down her window. She expressed an opinion that the accident was meaningless. Oh really? A crack had formed on the bumper of my father’s car. The van did not sustain damage.
    The woman was at fault. But was the crack worth reporting to the insurance company? I wasn’t sure. The car is a 1998 sedan. Even before this accident, it appeared old. Dents and previous cracks were visible on both ends.
    We exchanged paperwork and went our separate ways. 
    Later she telephoned me. She had some insurance questions to clarify.
    I said to her, “There’s an easy way to make this go away.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “If you apologize to my father, I’ll advise him to not file a claim.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me that after the accident?”
    “Because if I had, the apology wouldn’t have been sincere.”
    She laughed. The tone of her laugh sounded haughty.
    I said to her, “Would you like to speak to my father?”
    “All right.”
    I put him on the line. He listened to her apology. It was brief, maybe eight seconds long. He said with graciousness, “These things happen.”
    Dad handed me the phone. I told the woman that no claim would be filed. She offered a terse acknowledgement. She never said thank you.
   The matter had reached a conclusion. I said goodbye.
   That woman’s apology was lukewarm. But hey, an insincere apology is still an apology.