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“No! It’s notfair.” West stamped his foot. “I’m allowed to still like her, and Aunt Sarah too. And even if I’m not allowed, I like them anyway.”
Something cracked in Tad’s chest, maybe his heart. “I’m sorry,” he said. He caught West and lifted him, held him on his lap. “No, look at me. I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? Of course you’re allowed to like whoever you want. And I’m not saying you can’t play with Beth, just…”
West scowled. “Just what?”
“West, do you… Is there something you need I haven’t been—” He bit his tongue hard. “What I’m trying to tell you is, I got your candy.”
“My candy?” West’s expression wavered between confusion and upset.
“The candy for your stocking. I want you to know I’m trying to be a good dad. To make sure you get all the good things in life—that you’re not left out. That there’s nothing missing.”
“But thingsaremissing,” wailed West, and Tad’s heart plunged to his boots. West looked up at him, wet-eyed, blinking back tears. “Gram’s gone,” he said. “I miss her all the time. Beth said I could share hers, but I haven’t seen her in days.” He choked back a sob. “You’re the best dad, but I want my friends. Can’t I go see them? Just for a while?”
Tad couldn’t speak. Was this what Sarah had been trying to show him? That he couldn’t be West’s whole world, try as he might? That when it came to providing for his son, he couldn’t just focus on money in the bank?
“I love you, Dad,” said West. “But it’s like Aunt Nancy says. It takes a village.”
“What takes a village?”
“I don’t know.It.” West scrunched up his features. “I think she means everything—getting things done. Like, you’re my dad, but you don’t know how to bake. So if I wanted cookies, I’d go to Aunt Sarah. At least, if you’d let me go to her house.”
Tad sat holding West. When had his little man got so wise? And how had he been sostupid,rebuffing every lifeline Sarah had tried to throw him, every hand of friendship extended his way?
“We’ll go tomorrow, okay?” Tad’s voice was thick. “We’ll go see the twins, and it’ll be great.”
“You mean we’ll be there for ugly sweater day?” West leaped up, beaming. “I had an idea, to make ours even worse. We could get musical cards and take out the chips—”
“West—”
“—and tape them under our arms, so when we go likethis,it plays a song.” He threw up his arms and did a little spin. Tad stood up slowly, shaking his head.
“That sounds horrible,” he said. “Genius-tier awful. But I actually meant we’d stop by before that.”
“We can’t do ugly sweaters?” West dropped his arms. “Because you’re mad at Aunt Sarah?”
“Because she’s mad at me.” Tad scratched his chin—how to explain this so West would understand? “You know how when you’re worked up, you sometimes say things you don’t mean?”
“Like when you yelled at me, and I called you an old poop?”
“You didn’t call me that.”
West cracked a grin. “I did in my head.”
“Well, okay. Like that.” Tad looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t call Sarah names, but I said some hurtful things. Things that made her sad. If I come to sweater night, she’ll remember those things, and she won’t have fun.”
West thought that over, chewing his lip. “If I made Beth sad, you’d make me say sorry.”
“I would,” said Tad. “But I’m not sure ‘sorry’ will cut it this time.”
“Then, you need abigsorry. Like that time I filled my Super Soaker with paint, and you almost cried. But I cleaned it up, and I set the table all summer. And you’re not still mad, right?” West grabbed Tad’s hand and tugged him toward the door.
“I didnotalmost cry,” said Tad. “And where are we going?”
“To the store. To fix this.”
“Wait—fix this how?”
“Come and I’ll show you.” West tugged his hand again. Tad glanced at his blueprints, but then firmly looked away. They’d keep. Whatever this was, it felt more important.
