Chapter 9
A year after the birthday party, Noah turned six.
This time, the party was in our backyard again.
I almost chose somewhere else.
A park.
A play place.
Anywhere that did not remember the slap.
But Noah asked for home.
“I want new birthday memories,” he said.
So home it was.
Blue balloons.
Superhero cake.
A small bounce house.
Friends from school.
Aunt Lily.
Thomas.
Ms. Claire from the visitation center, invited by Noah because he said she “helped Daddy be less weird.”
Even Daniel came for one supervised hour.
He stood near the fence with a wrapped puzzle in his hands, waiting until Noah ran to him.
No Evelyn.
No Vanessa.
No forced smiles.
No one telling my son who his mother was.
At cake time, Noah grabbed my hand.
“Stand by me.”
“Always.”
He looked at Daniel.
“You can stand there.”
Daniel smiled softly.
“I’d like that.”
We sang.
Noah blew out six candles.
Then he looked at the untouched corner of the cake and whispered, “Last year I was scared.”
I knelt.
“And this year?”
He smiled.
“This year I’m hungry.”
I laughed and hugged him.
That was healing.
Not forgetting.
Eating cake anyway.
After the party, Daniel stayed behind for five minutes with the supervisor.
He looked at the patio.
“I replay this place a lot.”
“I do too.”
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry for telling you to apologize.”
“That sentence changed everything.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
He swallowed.
“Do you think Noah will ever feel normal with me?”
I looked through the window.
Noah was showing Emma how to bang blocks together.
Emma laughed every time.
“I think he will feel whatever you earn.”
Daniel nodded.
“That’s fair.”
“Fair is all I’m offering.”
“I’ll take it.”
He left quietly.
Noah slept with frosting still near his ear.
Emma woke twice.
The house settled around us like it had finally forgiven itself.
In the morning, I found Noah in the nursery.
He was standing by Emma’s crib.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“When Emma turns five, nobody will make her call someone else Mommy, right?”
I walked in and knelt beside him.
“Right.”
“And if someone tries?”
“What would we do?”
He stood taller.
“We say no. Then we call Mr. Tom Lawyer Man.”
I laughed so hard I woke Emma.
Noah looked offended.
May you like
“That’s the plan.”
“You’re right,” I said, wiping my eyes. “That is absolutely the plan.”
