miserable as I felt, and I was the only one to blame.
I moved toward him with light steps and lowered myself
down the wall, stretching out my legs as I sat beside him. He jerked forward,
startled at first, then jumped into my lap and hugged me tightly around the
neck. I held him close, kissing the top of his head. My entire body relaxed. He
was my home.
“Daddy!” He pulled back, smiling big, but with a hint of
concern still lingering. I wanted to clear it away immediately.
“Sorry I was late. Did you have fun today?”
“Lots. Let’s go home.”
He stood up and held out his hand to help me do the same.
I took it and lunged forward to my feet. “When did you get so strong?” I placed
my hand over my heart, my expression one of exaggerated mock intrigue. “You
nearly lifted me in the air.”
He laughed, pleased with himself.
“Me air! Me air!” Charlie called out, running toward us.
He crashed into my legs and wrapped his arms around my knees. “Me air!” he
demanded once more.
Laughing, I swooped him up above me and swayed him from side
to side, aware of Lawrence’s uneasy presence when he entered the room a moment
later.
“All right, Charlie, say goodbye,” Lawrence told him. “It’s
about time for dinner.”
I squatted down to set him back on the ground. “We’ll see
you Monday morning, buddy.” He gave me a big hug, choking my neck, which only
made me grin wider.
Oliver was already yelling out a quick goodbye to Charlie
and attempting to open the heavy front door, which he couldn’t budge.
I pretend to unlock the door. “Try again. It was locked.”
He pulled the handle, squeezing his eyes shut tight,
using all his strength. I wrapped my finger near the top of the long ornate
handle above his hand and pulled the door open.
“I did it!” he boasted, twisting back to make sure
everyone saw. Katherine clapped, building Oliver’s confidence. “It was easy.”
I chuckled. “Told you you were strong.”
Before we stepped outside, I zipped his coat and placed
his hat over his ears. Impatient as ever, the second I moved back, he ran right
for my car.
“See you Monday morning,” Katherine said softly.
“Thanks for everything,” I replied, glancing from her to
Lawrence, who was now holding Charlie in his arms. His expression was
thoughtful but pleasant. It told me we were good—that there were no issues
standing between us. That was the thing with my family: As quickly as an
argument arose, it was put to rest.
I walked out, and Katherine closed the door behind me.
“How about we go home, make some pasta, then hang out in
the studio tonight?” I suggested, buckling him into his booster seat.
“I want ham.”
Smiling, I agreed. My boy was like me: He knew what he
wanted, and wasn’t afraid of making it clear.
“You got it.”
I stood upright and shut his door. When I climbed in the
front seat, I glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “I think we
have some cupcakes left for dessert.”
“Choc’lat!?” he squealed, eyes bright.
“I believe so.”
“Hurry!”
I laughed, relieved the day was ending the way it was
supposed to: with a smile on my son’s face.
W e spent Saturday at the local children’s museum,
Oliver enthralled with all things dinosaur. His visit to the gift shop had us
up late, transforming his bedroom floor into a rough terrain of voracious
carnivores and friendly herbivores that Oliver tried to convince me could talk
in voices that sounded a lot like dancing chipmunks. We played until he could
hardly keep his eyes open, and he dozed off soon after I’d read the first page
of his new book on fossils.
When Sunday morning rolled around, I woke early to make
breakfast only to find Oliver’s bed empty when I went to his room.
First came the tug of panic, then the racing down the
hall only to be stopped abruptly by his giggles echoing from the kitchen. They
were soon followed by the familiar hum of my sister. My rush of
I moved toward him with light steps and lowered myself
down the wall, stretching out my legs as I sat beside him. He jerked forward,
startled at first, then jumped into my lap and hugged me tightly around the
neck. I held him close, kissing the top of his head. My entire body relaxed. He
was my home.
“Daddy!” He pulled back, smiling big, but with a hint of
concern still lingering. I wanted to clear it away immediately.
“Sorry I was late. Did you have fun today?”
“Lots. Let’s go home.”
He stood up and held out his hand to help me do the same.
I took it and lunged forward to my feet. “When did you get so strong?” I placed
my hand over my heart, my expression one of exaggerated mock intrigue. “You
nearly lifted me in the air.”
He laughed, pleased with himself.
“Me air! Me air!” Charlie called out, running toward us.
He crashed into my legs and wrapped his arms around my knees. “Me air!” he
demanded once more.
Laughing, I swooped him up above me and swayed him from side
to side, aware of Lawrence’s uneasy presence when he entered the room a moment
later.
“All right, Charlie, say goodbye,” Lawrence told him. “It’s
about time for dinner.”
I squatted down to set him back on the ground. “We’ll see
you Monday morning, buddy.” He gave me a big hug, choking my neck, which only
made me grin wider.
Oliver was already yelling out a quick goodbye to Charlie
and attempting to open the heavy front door, which he couldn’t budge.
I pretend to unlock the door. “Try again. It was locked.”
He pulled the handle, squeezing his eyes shut tight,
using all his strength. I wrapped my finger near the top of the long ornate
handle above his hand and pulled the door open.
“I did it!” he boasted, twisting back to make sure
everyone saw. Katherine clapped, building Oliver’s confidence. “It was easy.”
I chuckled. “Told you you were strong.”
Before we stepped outside, I zipped his coat and placed
his hat over his ears. Impatient as ever, the second I moved back, he ran right
for my car.
“See you Monday morning,” Katherine said softly.
“Thanks for everything,” I replied, glancing from her to
Lawrence, who was now holding Charlie in his arms. His expression was
thoughtful but pleasant. It told me we were good—that there were no issues
standing between us. That was the thing with my family: As quickly as an
argument arose, it was put to rest.
I walked out, and Katherine closed the door behind me.
“How about we go home, make some pasta, then hang out in
the studio tonight?” I suggested, buckling him into his booster seat.
“I want ham.”
Smiling, I agreed. My boy was like me: He knew what he
wanted, and wasn’t afraid of making it clear.
“You got it.”
I stood upright and shut his door. When I climbed in the
front seat, I glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “I think we
have some cupcakes left for dessert.”
“Choc’lat!?” he squealed, eyes bright.
“I believe so.”
“Hurry!”
I laughed, relieved the day was ending the way it was
supposed to: with a smile on my son’s face.
W e spent Saturday at the local children’s museum,
Oliver enthralled with all things dinosaur. His visit to the gift shop had us
up late, transforming his bedroom floor into a rough terrain of voracious
carnivores and friendly herbivores that Oliver tried to convince me could talk
in voices that sounded a lot like dancing chipmunks. We played until he could
hardly keep his eyes open, and he dozed off soon after I’d read the first page
of his new book on fossils.
When Sunday morning rolled around, I woke early to make
breakfast only to find Oliver’s bed empty when I went to his room.
First came the tug of panic, then the racing down the
hall only to be stopped abruptly by his giggles echoing from the kitchen. They
were soon followed by the familiar hum of my sister. My rush of
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