“I take it you’ve heard about the store’s collaboration with the Dominion?” I ask.
“You never liked the sport before, funny that you do now.” He scoffs.
“You’re such a ridiculous fart of a man.” I straighten, unsure where that zinger came from, but I keep going anyway. “I’mdoing what I can, David, since you couldn’t. Theo didn’t suddenly stop needing a dad just because you decided to go off and figure yourself out.”
His silence crackles. Which is fine with me. Silence always seems to say more than we know it does.
“Things are changing,” he says finally.
I don’t bite. I’ve learned better.
“Congrats on that,” I reply.
We sit in fraught silence before he speaks up again. “Have you planned anything? Something I can help with?”
Oh, here we go. I can’t deny that part of me is about to take some joy out of telling him this.
“No, thank you for the offer, but I’ve already got everything set up.” Wait for it. “We’re going to a Dominion game.”
A short laugh. “Of course you are.”
“Don’t,” I cut in. “Theo was offered a box, so if you’re coming, I need to make sure I can add you to the list. Please try to keep it front of mind that this isn’t about you, nor is it about me. This is for Theo.”
“Well, if you had called me back when I was trying to get a hold of you, we probably wouldn’t have this problem now would we?”
Oh he did not. He has a point, but…nope. Not today.
“David,” I begin in my calmest tone, usually reserved for irate customers. “You don’t get to dictate that part of our lives when you’re not here for the everyday. In retrospect, I should have called, but I didn’t. I’ve been busy raising our son and running a business to keep the lights on. Can we not get into the finger pointing thing?”
There’s a huff of air at the other end of the line. I can almost see the furrow in his brow forming from here. Let it. The man deserves a deep trench that screams for Botox for the rest of his life.
I wait for him to speak, and soon I’m rewarded. “Fine, no finger pointing.”
“Thank you. I will message Sawyer to ask about you coming as soon as I can.”
“Please do, but I hope there’s no issue.”
“If there is one, again, we’ll figure it out. This is about our son.” I take a huge gulp of air, meant to be a calming breath, and let it out slowly. “When do you leave?”
David’s trips are usually fast. He’s in and out, gone over a weekend. He usually wraps a visit in to see Theo with business; I can’t recall a time he’s ever just gotten a ticket to fly in and spend time with Theo and only Theo. No, our son is packaged into his day, another appointment he needs to keep and check off the to-do list.
“I don’t have a flight out booked yet.” He clears his throat. “I might be in town for a while. Longer than my usual visits.”
My pulse ticks up, steady and ominous. Well, that’s curious.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be in touch once I know more.”
And as I hang up, staring back through the glass at my son laughing with Charlie, I get the unsettling feeling that nothing about this is going to be simple anymore.
The apartment isquiet in the way that only happens once Theo is settled. His bedroom door is closed, a movie murmuring softly through the wall—animated voices, a swell of music, something reassuring and predictable. I listen for a minute longer than necessary, waiting for the familiar sound of his laugh. When it comes, I exhale.
I’m in bed, lamp on low, book open in my hands.
I’ve been on the same page for ten minutes. I reread the same paragraph for the third time and still can’t tell you what it’s about. My mind keeps sliding sideways—back to David’s voice, the way he’d said he could be in town for a whilelike that explains everything.
I close the book, set it face-down on the nightstand, andreach for my phone, hesitate, then check the time. It’s later in Chicago, but not so late I’ll wake anyone up if I dial the number now.
I call before I can overthink it. The phone barely rings once before she answers.
