Chapter 3
Monique told me Friday had been a mistake.
She said traffic held her up after a meeting. She said Malik knew where the spare key was and could have gone inside.
“He doesn’t use the spare key,” I said. “We moved it after someone found it under the flowerpot.”
Monique frowned.
“I forgot.”
“Then why tell me you picked him up?”
“I didn’t want you worrying over a late pickup.”
I stood in the kitchen, trying to decide which part frightened me more: that Malik had waited outside or that Monique had kept me from knowing.
“How many other pickups have you missed?”
“Darius, I said I was sorry.”
I took out my phone and changed my work schedule for the next day. I could leave early. After that, I would make a longer plan.
“I’ll handle Malik’s pickups for now,” I said.
Monique’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re acting like I left him on the side of a highway.”
“I’m acting like he’s my son.”
“He’s part of my family too.”
“Then talk to him like he is.”
She went upstairs without answering.
I stayed awake long after the house settled. At breakfast, Malik came down in the same green hoodie. Monique had already left for work. Ava sat with a bowl of cereal and looked up as he entered.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said.
Malik stopped.
“You didn’t tell me I couldn’t come.”
“I believed Mom when she said you had plans.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
He pulled out a chair. It wasn’t a perfect conversation, but he ate beside her. For that morning, I was grateful.
I drove both children to school. Malik’s teacher, Mr. Lewis, caught me at the classroom door.
“Could I speak to you for a minute?”
I told Malik I would see him after school. He gave me a worried glance.
Mr. Lewis waited until he was inside.
“Malik’s been tired lately,” he said. “And he stopped going to the after-school art club.”
“He loves art club.”
“That’s what I thought. He said he had to go straight home.”
I remembered the drawings taped over his desk. He used to tell me about art club every Thursday.
“Was there a change in the schedule?”
“No. I sent a notice to both parents when he missed three weeks. Monique replied that you’d decided he needed more time for homework.”
I hadn’t seen the notice.
I thanked Mr. Lewis and asked him to copy me directly on school messages from then on. I checked my email in the parking lot. My address was still listed with the school, but the art club message had gone into a folder I rarely opened.
I had let Monique handle most school emails after we married. I couldn’t place all the blame for missing this on her.
I could change it now.
At lunch, I called the art club coordinator. Malik could return next week. I signed the form myself.
When I picked him up, he looked startled to see my car.
“I told you I was coming.”
“I know. I thought you might get stuck at work.”
“Not today.”
He climbed in and fastened his seat belt.
I asked about art club.
“Monique said I needed to be home on Thursdays.”
“Did she tell you why?”
“She said Ava had a class and she couldn’t make two trips.”
Ava’s class was across town. I understood the scheduling problem. I didn’t understand why no one had asked me to drive.
“I can take you,” I said.
His face changed.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He turned toward the window, but I caught a small smile.
At home, I checked the family calendar on the refrigerator. Ava’s classes and Monique’s appointments covered it. Malik’s art club wasn’t there. His school concert wasn’t there either.
I added both.
Then I called my sister, Renee.
She had been telling me for months that she barely saw Malik. I had thought she was angry because I worked so much.
“He called me last month,” she said when I asked. “He wanted to stay here one Saturday. Monique said no.”
“She never told me.”
“I figured you’d agreed with her.”
“I didn’t know he’d asked.”
Renee was quiet for a moment.
“Darius, I should’ve called you.”
“We both should’ve checked.”
She offered to help with pickups whenever my shifts ran late. I accepted.
That evening, Malik spread his art supplies across the dining table. He was drawing a row of houses. One stood apart from the others, with a tiny figure at a bright window.
“What’s that one?” I asked.
He covered part of the page with his hand.
“Just a house.”
I didn’t press him.
Monique came home and saw the school calendar.
“You put art club back on,” she said.
“I’m taking him.”
“And if your shift runs over?”
“Renee can help.”
Her face changed at my sister’s name.
“You told Renee what happened?”
“I told her I need help with pickups.”
“She’s never liked me.”
I looked at Malik, who had stopped drawing.
“We can discuss that later.”
Monique saw him watching us. She put down her keys and went upstairs.
Malik stared at the little house on his page.
“Is it my fault everybody’s upset?”
I sat beside him.
“No. The adults are fixing things we should have noticed sooner.”
He reached for a blue pencil.
“That house has a room for everybody,” he said.
May you like
I looked at the tiny figure in the window.
“I’d like to see the rest when you finish.”
