Chapter 12 - The School EventIn late October, Lucas and Mia’s school hosted Family Art Night.
Before the birthday dinner, I would have invited Dad automatically. Then I would have debated whether inviting him meant inviting Diane. Then I would have imagined Diane criticizing the cafeteria decorations, the children’s art, the folding chairs, and somehow my parenting.
This time, I texted Dad directly.
“Family Art Night. Friday at 6. You may come alone.”
He replied in under a minute.
“I’d love to.”
Friday arrived with rain tapping against the windshield and Mia singing loudly in the back seat. Lucas held a cardboard portfolio against his chest.
“Do you think Grandpa will come?” Mia asked.
“He said he would.”
Lucas looked out the window.
“People say stuff.”
“Yes,” I said. “They do.”
At 5:58, Dad stood outside the school entrance under a black umbrella.
Alone.
Mia ran first.
“Grandpa!”
He crouched and opened his arms, but still waited until she crashed into him. Lucas walked slowly behind her.
Dad smiled.
“Hey, buddy.”
Lucas nodded.
“Hi.”
Inside, the cafeteria walls were covered with construction paper masterpieces. Mia’s painting showed a dragon, a birdhouse, and five birds wearing crowns. Lucas’s drawing was quieter: a tree, a house, and three people standing underneath it.
Me. Lucas. Mia.
In the corner, smaller, was Dad.
He noticed.
His eyes lingered on the page.
“I’m in it,” he said softly.
Lucas shrugged.
“You came to soccer.”
Dad swallowed.
“I did.”
“And you ate the orange.”
“I did that too.”
Lucas studied him.
“You can be closer in the next picture if you keep showing up.”
Dad’s face broke open with feeling.
“I’ll try.”
“No,” Lucas said. “Don’t try. Do it.”
I covered my mouth to hide my smile.
Dad nodded solemnly.
“You’re right. I’ll do it.”
For an hour, we painted clay tiles and ate cafeteria cookies. Dad helped Mia glue sequins onto a paper crown. He praised Lucas’s careful shading. He asked questions. He listened to answers.
It was ordinary.
It was miraculous.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photo appeared.
It showed Dad’s truck in the school parking lot.
The message said:
“So this is where he is.”
My body went cold.
I looked toward the cafeteria doors.
Diane stood outside the glass entrance, rain shining on her cream coat.
She had found us.
Dad saw my face and turned.
His expression changed from warmth to stone.
“Stay with the kids,” he said.
For the first time in my life, my father walked toward Diane before she walked toward us.
I couldn’t hear through the glass.
But I saw his posture.
Straight.
Firm.
No lowered eyes.
Diane pointed toward the cafeteria. Dad shook his head. She tried to step around him. He moved with her, blocking the door.
Mia tugged my sleeve.
“Is Aunt Diane coming in?”
“No,” I said.
Lucas stood very still.
Outside, Diane’s face twisted. She said something sharp.
Dad did not move.
Then he pointed toward the parking lot.
Diane stared at him.
He pointed again.
Finally, she turned and stormed into the rain.
Dad came back ten minutes later, wet at the shoulders.
“What did she say?” I asked quietly.
He looked at the children first.
Then at me.
“She said I was choosing you.”
“And?”
May you like
His voice was steady.
“I told her I was choosing right.”
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