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“But we could visit her, couldn’t we?”

“I don’t know if she’d like that.”

“We could call her and ask.”

“I doubt she’ll answer. She probably has a new number.”

“You could try anyway. Please?”

Try saying no to an honest, sincere, and slightly heartbroken four-year-old who is all earnest and big-eyed and smiling softly and sadly. Yeah, there’s no way I can deny Shade. He doesn’t know what happened. To him, it’s obvious Feeney would want to talk to him because why wouldn’t she?

I don’t sigh. Instead, I take out my phone and act like nothing is wrong. But then slowly, I put it away. I know I have to tell Shade the truth, or at least some version of it—a version he’d understand. He deserves to know.

“Shade, there’s something I have to tell you. Feeney didn’t leave because she had another job. She left because she was mad at me. I did something to make her upset and unhappy, and she didn’t want to stay in the house anymore because she didn’t want to see me or to talk to me. I really hurt her feelings, and she didn’t want to be around me. It had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry. I know you liked her a lot, and I should have been smarter. Better. I should have thought…”

“What did you do?”

“I…I just…I lied to her about something, and it hurt her a lot. So much so that she had to go.”

“Why didn’t you just say sorry?”

“Sometimes, saying sorry doesn’t fix things.”

Shade looks crestfallen. He’s four and doesn’t understand the workings of adult relationships even though he understands far more than he should about life and all the hard things. I wish, for once, that I could just do something to make him happy. To make sure he stays a kid for as long as possible.

“You could try and say sorry to her again. She’s been gone for a while. Maybe she’s not mad anymore.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s going to stay mad about this for a long time.”

Shade thinks about it, and I can see he’s thinking hard. “She’s mad at you, and she doesn’t like you. But she’s not mad at me, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll call her.”

“She won’t know who’s calling. She won’t answer.”

“I could leave a message.”

“She’ll think I made you do it. That it’s a trick.”

Shade actually rolls his eyes at me. “I’ll tell her it’s not. No tricks. No treats. Just me and how I miss her.”

Dear god. How did I wind up with such an amazing kid? Shade’s four-years-old, and he’s already a heck of a lot smarter and kinder than I will ever be. He’s way more open and honest, and he has a huge heart that wasn’t dampened by the loss of his mom and the constant disruptions in his life after. None of the radiant shine he has was dampened by Britt’s parents, my dad, or anyone else.

Shade is four-years-old and already, he’s living up to his name.

“Okay.” I pass the phone over. “I’ll dial, and you can leave whatever message you want. If she doesn’t call back, it’s not because of you, okay? It really is because of me.”

“Well, maybe after I’m done talking, you can say sorry too. Then she’ll know for sure. Maybe you can say no tricks and no treats.”

“Okay.” My eyes feel like they’re on fire. So does my throat, my nose, and my chest. “No tricks. But maybe not the no treats part. That’s just for Halloween.”

Shade nods at me, and he has a huge grin on his face now. He looks happier than he has been, well, since Feeney left. I dial the phone and hand it over. As predicted, it goes to voicemail. Shade hesitates, suddenly nervous, but he pushes through much better than I could and probably much better than I will.

“Hi. It’s Shade. Feeney, I miss you! I miss you so much! We got a new nanny, and she cooks good. She never burns anything. It sucks because now we never get pizza or burgers or anything. I hate it. She’s nice, but she’s not funny like you. I asked her if she knows what an opossum is, and she said yes, so that sucks. If I ever see one again, I can’t tell her it’s a cat to get her to come and look. She never says chicken nuggets, she never lets me have the extra treat at the grocery store, and she hates going to the splash pad. I miss you a lot. Will you please come to visit us? Dad says that you won’t because you’re mad at him because he lied to you, but I still want you to. He’s sorry for real. He didn’t tell me to say this. No tricks and no treats.” Shade fumbles with the phone and ends up hanging up. Then, he sheepishly passes the phone back to me. “Sorry! I forgot you were supposed to say no tricks. And I forgot to not say no treats.”

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