What I did know was that he came out of those sessions different. Lighter in some ways. More willing to look me in the eye and say the thing instead of carrying it. That was Teaghan’s doing before it was Dr. Wayans’. She saw it before I did. She sat across from me in Norwood’s office and told me Malone wasn’t the problem, and she was right, and I thought about that more than I wanted to admit.
I thought about a lot of things more than I wanted to admit.
“The S is crooked,” Malone said from behind me. I turned, and he was standing in the doorway of the store with his arms folded across his chest, head tilted, studying the sign with a critical expression. He had Leslie’s eyes and her way of finding the thing everybody else missed.
I looked back at the sign. “Lone, it’s straight.”
“It’s your name on the building. It should be right.”
“It’s her name on the building.”
“Aye, that S it’s crooked.”
We both stood there looking up at it and the installer made a small adjustment on the left side and the whole sign shifted slightly and Malone made a sound of satisfaction. “There. Now it’s straight.”
I put my hand on the back of his neck, sitting in this moment.
“You happy dad?”
The question landed, and I took my time with it because he deserved a real answer and not the automatic one. I looked at the sign. Leslie’s name up there in dark green like something permanent. Three years of telling myself I didn’t have time, didn’t have the bandwidth, couldn’t do it without her here to see it. And then six months of something shifting. Something cracking loose. I looked at the sign, and I feltproud, and I felt her absence, and I felt the absence period. I refused to say her name. But hell yeah, I missed her.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m happy.”
Malone nodded slowly. Kept looking at the sign. “It would feel better if she were here.”
I took my hand off his neck. “I know. Trust me, I know.”
“Not mama.” He looked up at me. “Ms. Tea. Don’t you miss her? Think you overreacted?”
I didn't say anything. One of the installers called something down from the lift, and his partner answered, and the sound of their work filled the quiet Malone left between us. I watched the sign and felt my jaw tighten, and told myself to let it go.
“You hungry? We can go get something after?—”
“You always do that,” he said, moving out of my embrace.
I looked down at him. He wasn’t looking at the sign anymore. He was looking at me with those dark eyes that had seen more than any nine-year-old should have to see, and he had his arms folded again and his chin up, and everything about him said he wasn't moving until he finished what he came over here to say.
“Do what?” I said.
“Change the subject when you don’t want to talk about something. Dr. Wayans calls it deflection. Not a good look, Dad.”
“Malone.”
“That’s what it is, though. And you can’t fool me.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Watch your mouth.”
“I’m not being disrespectful. I’m saying what I see.” He shifted his weight.
“Where did this come from?”
“We talked about Ms. Tea in my session on Tuesday. And it may be easy for you to act like you don’t miss her, but I do. I miss the you, you are with her.”
I brushed my hand down my face, hoping we could breeze right over this. This was the conversation I wasn’t ready for. I turned to look at him fully, and he held my gaze the way I taught him to, steady, not backing down. He had learned that from me and was using it on me. Ididn't know whether to be proud or frustrated, so I settled somewhere in between.
“That’s between you and Dr. Wayans.”
“Nice try. She said I could tell you if I wanted to. I want to.” He unfolded his arms and put his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I told her I was mad.”
