“We rode our bikes all around the park.”
“You must be tired.”
“Kinda.” He took a seat in his usual spot at the table.
Emma rubbed the top of his head, which only added to the chaos of his windblown hair. Then she turned to Ruth. “When will supper be ready?”
Ruth bent over the pot, inhaled, and gave the soup a gentle stir. “I’d say it needs another five or ten minutes.”
Taking that as a cue to start a conversation, Emma sat down across from Matthew. “Well, since we have some time ... before we eat ...” She nervously cleared her throat. “I have something important to tell you.”
He stared at her with sleepy eyes.
“We had a visitor today. It was unexpected and ...” Emma swallowed uneasily. “I have to admit, I was caught off guard because I hadn’t seen him in a long time and ...”
Matthew propped his elbow on the table, rested his chin on a hand. “I’m hungry.”
Emma reached for the bread basket. “Help yourself to a slice. There’s some butter right there.” She pointed at the butter dish.
While Matthew buttered a slice of bread, Emma waited patiently for him to take a bite, chew, and swallow.
“I might as well come right out with it,” she finally said. “The visitor today was ... it was your father.”
Matthew stopped chewing and spoke with his mouth full. “What? My dad was here?”
Emma nodded.
“When?”
“This afternoon,” she replied. “He left about a half hour ago.”
Matthew stared at her with wide eyes, then threw his bread onto the plate, shoved his chair back, and stood. “Why didn’t you get him to stay?”
Emma’s heart began to beat with a ruckus. She’d hadn’t expected this from Matthew. “Because I didn’t want you to be shocked when you got home. I wanted to prepare you first.”
“Where is he?” Matthew asked, with rising panic. “Can you get him back?”
“Uh . . .”
Ruth approached the table. “Don’t worry, Matthew. We asked him to come back tomorrow.”
“No!” Matthew cried. “What if he changes his mind and leaves? I want to see him! I need to see him now!”
Emma stood up. “He won’t change his mind. I promise.”
“How do you know? You don’t know everything!”
“Matthew . . .”
“Get him back!” he sobbed. “Please, Mommy!”
Emma turned to Ruth, who checked her watch. “He was walking to the ferry terminal. If I take the car now, he’ll probably still be there.”
“Yes. Please do that,” Emma implored. “I’ll set out an extra plate for dinner.”
Ruth hurried to the door. “I’ll try my best to catch him.”
Matthew refused to speak. He was perched on his knees on the sofa, his chin resting on his arms on the back cushions, looking out the front window.
