Chapter 4
On Thursday, Malik went back to art club.
He talked all the way home about a painting he had started. He talked while we bought groceries, and he kept talking as he helped me put them away.
I had missed that sound.
At dinner, I asked him to tell Ava about the painting. She asked whether she could see it when it was finished. Malik nodded.
Monique ate quietly.
After the children went upstairs, she showed me a message from her office. She had been offered more hours. She wanted to know whether I still expected her to drive Ava to class.
“I can help with Ava too,” I said. “We need to plan it together.”
“We used to manage without a committee.”
“We didn’t know what Malik was giving up.”
“He could have said he missed art club.”
“He’s eleven.”
Monique put her phone down.
“You keep speaking as though I don’t care about him.”
“I’m telling you what he experienced. I want to know whether you understand it.”
“I’ve apologized.”
“You apologized for how he felt. Have you told him you were wrong to leave him out?”
She stared at me for a long time.
“No matter what I say, it won’t be enough for you.”
I wanted her to prove me wrong. I wanted her to walk upstairs and speak to my son.
She didn’t.
The next afternoon, Renee picked Malik up while I finished a shift. She took him and Ava for pizza after Ava’s practice. I had checked with both children first. They came home laughing about how Renee had gotten lost on the way to the restaurant.
Monique was waiting in the living room.
“Ava, go upstairs,” she said.
Ava’s smile faded.
I told Renee I would call her later. Once she left, Monique faced me.
“You sent my daughter off with your sister without asking me.”
“I texted you this morning.”
“You told me. You didn’t ask.”
She was right. I should have made sure she agreed before changing Ava’s ride. I said so.
Monique seemed surprised.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I should’ve waited for your answer.”
She sat down, some of the anger leaving her face.
“I don’t know how we got here,” she said.
I sat across from her.
“Neither do I. I thought we could talk about both children without keeping score.”
Her eyes filled.
“I tried to make everyone happy when we moved in together. Ava felt like you and Malik already had a life she didn’t fit into. I kept making time for her.”
“She needed that,” I said.
“Then Malik started asking why she got special trips.”
“He was asking to come sometimes.”
“I know that now.”
For a moment, I thought we might finally reach each other. Then she said, “He tells you every little thing I do, and you believe him.”
I felt the hope drain out of me.
“He told me about nights he was alone. Should I have ignored him?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“It’s what he’s afraid I’ll do.”
Ava appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mom, he doesn’t tell Dad every little thing.”
Monique looked up.
“I asked you to go to your room.”
“I heard you.”
Ava gripped the railing.
“Malik hardly ever says anything when he’s upset. That’s why I didn’t realize how bad it was.”
“You have no idea what I’ve done to keep this family together,” Monique said.
Ava’s face crumpled.
“I know you love me. I don’t want Malik to hurt because of it.”
I stood and asked Ava to let us finish the conversation. She went upstairs, but the sound of her bedroom door closing stayed with me.
Monique wiped her cheeks.
“I feel like everyone’s against me.”
“I want us to get help talking about this,” I said. “For both kids.”
She said she would think about it.
That night, I found Malik’s drawing on the kitchen table. He had finished the row of houses. In the one with the bright window, he had drawn four people inside.
I was still looking at it when my phone rang.
It was his school counselor, Ms. Carter. She apologized for calling after hours, then explained that she had been reviewing the notes from a meeting with Malik earlier that week.
“He gave me permission to tell you he’s been feeling unwelcome at home,” she said. “I wanted to check that you knew.”
“I do now.”
“He said he wasn’t sure whether he could ask you for help without causing trouble.”
I sat down.
“Can I come in tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
After the call, I went upstairs. Malik was awake, reading beneath his blanket.
“I’m coming to school tomorrow to talk with Ms. Carter,” I said. “She told me you asked for help.”
He tensed.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No. I’m glad you told someone.”
His eyes searched mine.
“I didn’t know if you’d believe me.”
I sat on the edge of his bed.
May you like
“I believe you.”
He reached out for my hand. I held it until he was ready to sleep.
