Chapter 13 - The Things Children Hear
Noah did not want to sit at the kitchen table.
He wanted to sit on the floor, with his back against the couch and his
soccer ball between his knees. Sophia had suggested pancakes before the
conversation, hoping breakfast would make the morning feel normal.
Vincent had offered to bring Noah’s favorite comic book. Neither
strategy worked.
“Are we moving?” Noah asked.
Sophia placed her coffee cup down. “We might. I have a job opportunity
in Seattle, but I haven’t made a decision.”
“Is it because of me?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“Is it because Vincent doesn’t come over anymore?”
Vincent felt the question land in his chest. He had prepared for anger,
tears, even silence. He had not prepared for the directness of a child
who had spent months trying to solve a problem that adults had created.
“Noah,” he said, “look at me for a second.”
Noah lifted his eyes.
“Nothing about the move is because of you. And nothing about the changes
between your mom and me happened because of something you did.”
“Then why did you stop coming?”
Sophia looked down. Vincent did not rush to answer.
“I made mistakes,” he said. “I let grown-up problems change the way I
showed up for you. I should have explained what was happening instead of
letting you guess.”
“Were you mad at me?”
“No. Never.”
“Were you mad at Mom?”
Vincent glanced at Sophia. “Sometimes I was upset about things. But
those were things between adults. You were never the reason.”
Noah rolled the soccer ball under one foot. “If we move, will you
visit?”
“I want to.”
“That’s not the same as saying you will.”
Vincent swallowed. “You’re right. I can’t promise every weekend. Seattle
is far away, and there will be school and work and weather and all the
things that make travel complicated. But I can promise to call on the
days we agree on. I can come to important games when we plan them early
enough. And if you want me at a school event, you can ask. I’ll do
everything I reasonably can to be there.”
“Reasonably?”
“It means I won’t lie to you just to make you feel better for one day.”
Noah considered that.
Sophia sat beside him. “I haven’t accepted the job. I wanted you to know
before I made a decision. You get to tell me what you’re worried about.”
“I don’t want a new school.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want to leave my friends.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t want Vincent to forget me.”
Vincent moved closer, leaving enough space that Noah could choose
whether to come to him.
“I won’t forget you,” he said. “But I also don’t want you to feel like
you have to keep me in your life. You get to have a childhood. You get
to make friends and play soccer and worry about homework. You don’t have
to manage my feelings.”
Noah looked at the ball again.
“Can I still call you Daddy sometimes?”
The room went quiet.
Sophia’s eyes filled, but she kept her voice steady. “You can call
people what feels right to you, as long as you’re comfortable and nobody
is making you do it.”
Vincent nodded. “And you don’t have to call me that to prove anything.”
Noah’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t want everything to change.”
“I know,” Vincent said.
The boy leaned forward and rested his forehead against Vincent’s
shoulder. Vincent wrapped one arm around him, careful not to turn the
moment into a promise the child had not asked for.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Afterward, Sophia walked Vincent to the door.
“I appreciate that you didn’t tell him you’d fly out every weekend,” she
said.
“I can’t guarantee that.”
“I know. That’s why I was worried.”
Vincent nodded. “I don’t want to become another person who tells him
what he wants to hear.”
Sophia folded her arms. “There is something else. The job isn’t just a
job. My sister lives in Seattle. She has offered to help with Noah. I
could have a better schedule there, and the salary would give us some
stability.”
“Then you should consider it.”
She looked surprised. “You aren’t going to argue?”
“It’s your decision. You’re his mother.”
“You used to act as if I needed your permission.”
“I know. I was wrong.”
Sophia studied him for a long moment. “I don’t know what to do with this
version of you.”
“You don’t have to do anything with me. Just decide what’s best for
Noah.”
She gave a small, tired laugh. “That sounds simple when you say it.”
“It probably isn’t.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Before Vincent returned to Claire’s apartment later that afternoon,
Sophia sent him a message asking whether he could call Noah before
bedtime. He did. The boy answered with a mouth full of cereal and a
comic book balanced on his knees.
“Are you still coming to my game?” Noah asked.
“Yes. Your mom will send me the date.”
“Even if you’re busy?”
“Even if I’m busy. I’ll make a plan, and if something changes, I’ll tell
you.”
Noah looked at the screen for a moment. “Can we talk on Wednesdays too?”
“Yes. Every Wednesday at seven, unless we agree on another time.”
“Okay. I’ll write it down.”
Vincent smiled. “I’ll write it down too.”
When Vincent returned to Claire’s apartment later that afternoon, she
was folding tiny clothes on the couch. Eleanor slept in a basket beside
her.
“How did it go?” Claire asked.
“He asked if I’d forget him.”
Claire’s hands stopped.
“What did you say?”
“That I wouldn’t. But I didn’t promise something I couldn’t control.”
She nodded. “Good.”
“He wants to keep calling me Daddy sometimes.”
Claire placed a folded onesie on the pile. “How do you feel about that?”
“Sad. Grateful. Guilty. All of it.”
“Those feelings are yours to manage. Noah shouldn’t have to.”
“I know.”
Vincent sat at the opposite end of the couch. “Sophia hasn’t decided
about Seattle. I told her she should choose based on what works for her
and Noah.”
Claire looked at him. “And what do you want?”
“I want him close. I want to see him grow up. I want to be there when he
scores his first goal in a real game and when he hates school and when
he gets his heart broken. But wanting those things doesn’t give me the
right to keep him in one place.”
Claire studied him. “That’s a difficult distinction.”
“I didn’t understand it before.”
Eleanor stirred. Claire leaned over to adjust the blanket.
Vincent watched her. “I also want to be here for her. Not just on
visits. I want to be close enough that if she has a fever at two in the
morning, I can come.”
Claire’s expression changed. “You are her father. You don’t need my
permission to care about her. You do need to respect the schedule and
the home she’s living in.”
“I do.”
“Then we’ll keep working on that.”
He nodded.
A few minutes later, Claire’s phone rang. It was Margaret.
“Your father and I are coming into the city tomorrow,” she said. “We’d
like to take you and the baby to lunch.”
Claire smiled. “That sounds nice.”
“And Vincent, if he’s available.”
Claire looked at him.
“I’ll ask him,” she said.
Margaret hesitated. “There’s something I want to tell you before we see
him. Your father ran into someone from Vincent’s company at the hospital
fundraiser. Apparently, Vincent is considering a major change at work.”
Claire frowned. “What kind of change?”
“I don’t know. The man said there may be a merger. He also said Vincent
might be moving back to Boston.”
Claire glanced at Vincent. He was watching her now.
“Did he say why?” she asked.
“No. But I thought you should know.”
When the call ended, Claire put the phone down.
“Are you moving to Boston?” she asked.
Vincent didn’t answer immediately.
“I’ve been exploring the possibility.”
“Since when?”
“Since Eleanor was born.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I wanted to know whether it was possible before I brought it up.”
Claire’s expression hardened. “You keep confusing a decision with a
conversation. You don’t have to have the answer before you tell me
there’s a question.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked toward the sleeping baby. “I was afraid you’d think I was
trying to buy my way back into your life.”
“Then say that. Don’t make plans in secret and expect me to be grateful
when you reveal them.”
“I understand.”
Claire returned to folding clothes, but her hands were no longer steady.
Vincent stood. “I’ll go.”
She didn’t ask him to stay.
At the door, he paused. “I haven’t signed anything. I haven’t made a
decision. I wanted to see if the company could operate from Boston
without putting everyone else’s jobs at risk.”
Claire looked at him.
“Then the next time you have a question that affects our daughter, tell
me before you start answering it alone.”
“I will.”
After he left, Claire stood in the quiet apartment.
She wanted to believe he was changing. She did believe it, sometimes.
But the old pattern had not disappeared. It had simply learned to wear
better manners.
May you like
And she was no longer willing to mistake good intentions for
partnership.
