Chapter 6
I moved home the following Friday.
June made us take three bags of leftovers. Dad said she was feeding us as if we were going to a country without kitchens.
“You burn eggs,” she reminded him.
“I improve every year.”
“Very slowly.”
I laughed in the back seat.
It felt strange to laugh on the way to our house.
Dad helped carry my bags upstairs. I unpacked my clothes and put Mom’s photograph beside the bed.
Then I stood in the doorway and waited.
For almost three years, coming home meant checking Claire’s mood before deciding what kind of evening I would have.
The kitchen was quiet.
Dad called up the stairs.
“Pizza or soup?”
“Pizza.”
“Excellent answer.”
We ate on the sofa while watching an old movie Mom liked. There was enough for both of us, and Dad put the last two slices in the refrigerator without making a speech about saving them.
I knew they would still be there if I wanted one later.
The next week, I met a counselor named Dr. Ellis.
She asked whether I liked sports, books, or games.
I told her I liked drawing buildings.
“What kind?”
“Ones with lots of rooms.”
“Why?”
“So everybody has somewhere.”
She nodded as if that made sense.
I talked about Claire in pieces.
The cake came first.
Then the headphones.
Then being told Mom’s picture made Dad unhappy.
Sometimes I stopped because I felt disloyal.
Dr. Ellis asked, “Would telling the truth about something kind Claire did be disloyal?”
“No.”
“Then telling the truth about something hurtful isn’t either.”
At home, Dad began asking questions differently.
Before, he asked, “Everything okay?”
I could always say yes.
Now he asked, “What was the hardest part of today?”
The first time, I told him math homework.
The second time, I said somebody at school asked whether my party ended because I threw a tantrum.
Dad looked up.
“Who said that?”
“A kid whose mom knows Claire.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That Dad ended it.”
“Was that enough?”
“He said I should have shared.”
I laughed once, but it was not funny.
“How do you share something you never got?”
Dad sat with that.
Then he called Ms. Parker and explained the rumor. She did not make an announcement about me. She spoke privately to the children who needed it and reminded our class that we did not know everything about other families.
Tyler approached me at lunch.
“My mom said your dad got mad about cake.”
“He did.”
“I told her you didn’t have any.”
“Thanks.”
“I should have said something at the party.”
“You offered me yours.”
He shrugged.
“I felt bad taking it.”
“I know.”
He sat beside me, and for the rest of lunch we talked about a science project.
I was grateful he let the subject end.
Dad and Claire’s separation became permanent. He met with a lawyer, and they started dividing property.
Claire wanted to come to the house for more belongings. Dad arranged a Saturday when June could take me out.
I was getting my jacket when Claire arrived early.
She stood at the open front door.
“Hello, Ethan.”
My hands went cold.
Dad came from the kitchen.
“We agreed on noon.”
“I’m here now.”
June’s car had not arrived yet.
Claire looked at me.
“Can we speak privately?”
Dad answered.
“No.”
She gave him a sharp look.
“He needs to hear my side.”
I surprised myself.
“I heard your side at dinner.”
Her eyes moved to me.
“You know that isn’t fair.”
“I know you gave Tyler another piece when I had none.”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“You told Mason I didn’t need one.”
She looked at Dad.
“This is what happens when adults encourage resentment.”
Dad stepped between us.
“We’re finished.”
I went upstairs without running.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
Five minutes later, Dad knocked.
“June’s here.”
“Is Claire gone?”
“She’s waiting in her car. I’ll handle the pickup after you leave.”
I sat on the bed.
“I talked back.”
“You told her what happened.”
“She’ll say I was rude.”
“You don’t have to accept that description.”
I picked up Mom’s photograph.
“Do you think Mom would be upset?”
Dad sat beside me.
“Your mom would want you safe.”
I looked at him.
“Are we?”
May you like
He put his arm around my shoulders.
“Yes. And I’m going to keep making sure we are.”
