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“He didn’t say sorry to me,” Noah pointed out. “He never said sorry!”
I blinked, realizing that he was right. Ashton had apologized to Marley in front of the group, but he hadn’t apologized to Noah. And Noah hadn’t even been there to see his apology to Marley.
“That’s true,” I said. “He said sorry to Marley and to me, but not to you. Would you like him to say sorry to you?”
“Yeah,” Noah said, looking almost embarrassed.
“Alright, buddy,” Marley said. “We’ll talk to him and ask him to say sorry, okay?”
“That won’t make him mad?” Noah asked, looking up at her.
Marley shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. But even if it does make him mad, we can make it better. We won’t let him be mean or rude to you, okay?”
A few moments later, Ashton reappeared with some other pack members, about eight of them, all looking interested in the movie or the pizza or maybe both. Noah continued glaring at Ashton from his hiding place against Marley’s chest.
Ashton looked a little awkwardly between the three of us before clearing his throat. “Uh, everything alright?” he asked.
“Well,” I said, “I’m sure you could imagine why Noah might feel a little apprehensive around you, yeah?”
“Ah,” Ashton said. “Yeah, right.”
A couple of the other pack members watched the situation until one of the women elbowed him.
“Apologize, dumbass,” she hissed to him under her breath. Then she looked between me and my son with a startled expression. “I—I mean—”
I shook my head, lifting a hand. “Don’t worry about it. If Travis hasn’t corrupted him, no one can.”
There was a little trill of understanding laughter around the group, which gave me a little sense of pride, to be honest. Travis had been around and made enough of an impression that they all knew exactly what I was talking about.
When the laughter died down, there was a bit of an awkward silence, and I looked over at Ashton again. Ashton was looking at Noah, who was looking back at him. I watched Ashton’s mouth work a little, a bit of tension flagging in his jaw. I could tell it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to apologize; more like he was trying to figure out how, or maybe wrestling with the shame of what he’d done.
“Um, Noah...I’m really sorry for trying to attack Marley,” he said. “And I’m really sorry for scaring you and hurting your dad. It wasn’t okay for me to do, and I won’t do it again.”
Noah looked at him skeptically for a long time, his little hands balled up in Marley’s sweater as the wheels in his head turned.
“What do you think, Noah?” I asked.
My son looked up at me, those wary eyes growing wide before looking off elsewhere. “I don’t know,” he said. “I know I’m supposed to say it’s okay, but I’m still a little mad.”
“That’s okay,” Ashton said with a quick nod. “It’s fair for you to still be mad. You don’t have to say it’s okay until you really mean it, Noah.”
Marley looked a little surprised at that, and then she smiled over at me. I could already tell what she was thinking—that this seemed like a good development on Ashton’s side, and I couldn’t agree more. I didn’t butt in yet, though. I wanted to see how the interaction would unfold.
“It’s okay that I’m mad?” Noah asked Ashton.
Ashton nodded again. “Yeah,” he said. “I know at school, a lot of people probably tell you that you have to accept apologies as soon as someone says them, but that’s for smaller mistakes, right? Like accidentally bumping someone’s head or taking their turn without asking. I made a pretty big mistake, so it’s fair for you to be mad.”
“I really don’t want you to hurt my dad again,” Noah said.
“I don’t want to hurt your dad, either. Or anyone else,” Ashton agreed.
“So why did you try to?”
I decided to step in, so Ashton didn’t feel like he was in the hot seat with an almost-six-year-old. This could be a chance to teach Noah some empathy. “Noah, remember the last time we went to the toy store?” I asked him.
His eyes went up to the ceiling as if he was trying to recall the information. “Yeah,” he said. “To get toys for the kids room.”
“That’s right. Do you remember what happened while we were there?”
